A/N: This is the first thing I've written in about five years so forgive me for being a little rusty. This fic will hopefully be a little different for you readers as I am unfamiliar with the lovely fanfic canons that you guys have developed over the years of waiting for the books to be published. This is a story that has been in the back of my mind for about a year, so let's see where it goes. I'd love to hear your thoughts so please review.
THE OTHER CHOSEN ONE
Chapter 1: Eternally Looped
The dull glow of the waning moon sullenly pierced the clouds darkening the sky but no eye turned to the heavens to witness it. No one was permitted a window in fear that a view of the outside world would inspire hope. But the Ministry needn't have worried; the crashing of waves for miles in every direction until their intersection with the ash-flecked horizon reinforced utter despair and isolation. After He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named promised the Dementors of Azkaban innumerable souls, most of the wraiths abandoned their posts immediately. The few rogue Dementors that still guarded the prison ensured that the interior remained as gloomy and forlorn as ever in return for a steady supply of souls. Desperate to maintain the loyalty of the Dementors and to ensure continued protection from the remainder of the prisoners in Azkaban, the Ministry secretly surrendered weekly a few prisoners whose presence would never be missed.
The man inside the cell did not care about the Dementors lurking outside. He lay there on the ground, eyes wide open staring up into the void of darkness all around him seeing nothing, feeling nothing but the heavy iron manacles digging into his skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that the acrid stench in his nostrils was a mix of coppery blood and fecal matter. Upon his first arrival, his examination of the cell had revealed torn fingernails and dark stains, evidence of the assured descent into madness in solitary confinement. His strength had quickly waned as the desolation settled in. The silence was deafening; no wails of despair, no rattling of chains in frustration, no screams of vengeance. There was nothing to penetrate the quiet. There was nothing to distract from the memories that looped infinitely in his head. They were the reminders of his failures, these scenes that were burned in the backs of his eyelids.
***
"The boy will come tonight," whispered a cold, high voice.
"Yes, my Lord." He knelt swiftly and kissed the hem of the robes.
"Bring him to me. Kill any others."
"Of course, my Lord."
"No mistakes, Lucius. You have already failed me once. Do it again and suffer my wrath." The snake eyes seem to bore right through him, infiltrating his very mind. Unwittingly, the image of a black diary flickered in his mind's eye. He shuddered slightly.
"I will not fail you, my Lord."
"If you do, I will punish you until you beg for death."
***
The visitor strode through the prison, his cape billowing behind him. From deep within his hood, dark eyes flicked in disgust at the prisoners around him as he passed. Most were so far beyond insane that they huddled in their cells in silent agony, not even bothering to wipe the drool of their blank, wasted faces. He wondered how many of them would be useful after the Dark Lord liberates them, how many of them would even remember how it feels to hold a wand in their grubby hands. No matter. Any who were incapable of recognizing the superiority of the cause would be useful for teaching methods. After all, there were still several Slytherin children remaining at Hogwarts that needed to hone their Dark Arts skills. Musing thoughtfully, the visitor decided their lack of knowledge of the finer things in life was one of the great downfalls of the schooling system (thanks no doubt to the champion of the Mudbloods himself, Dumbledore naturally). He made a self-note to talk to the Dark Lord about solutions to this problem. Approaching his destination at last, his lip curled derisively as he stared down at the prisoner inside.
Azkaban had changed Lucius Malfoy. So covered was he in dirt, grime, and blood that he was hardly distinguishable from the filthy cell floor that he now lay on. The visitor had never seen Lucius with a single hair out of place, yet here he was drooling and muttering to himself just like every other nutter in this place. The visitor had to admit that the sight filled him with more than a small amount of satisfaction. Without Lucius' failure, his own ascendency would not have been possible. With Lucius taken care of, the only thing standing in his way to being the Dark Lord's right hand man was that bitch Bellatrix. She would be far more difficult to supplant with her obsessive infatuations and tits and all. No matter. She was a brilliant witch, but she was reckless and likely unbalanced so her time would be short. Not to mention that the Malfoys were on a downfall. Obviously.
Remembering the task at hand, the visitor spoke the incantation to enter the cell. He was eager to share the message of the Dark Lord's rage.
***
"Don't go tonight, Lucius." Narcissa stood in the doorway of the study, her face drawn and pale. Lucius looked up irritably from the book in his hands.
"It's my duty to go."
"Let someone else go. Let someone else worry about the prophecy." Eyes gleaming almost feverishly, she went to stand beside his chair, wringing her hands in agitation. He rose to face her, his thin lips pressed to a hard line.
"The Dark Lord has given me the order. He has given me a second chance to prove our family's loyalty. If this succeeds, our family will be honored beyond any of the others! Why do you want to jeopardize this for me – for us?" Lucius spoke coolly. Although his demeanor would not betray it, he found his wife's behavior alarming.
"Lucius , something will go wrong tonight, I know it! If you fail, what will become of Draco and me? Don't let this tear our family apart!" Narcissa desperately plucked at his clothes and touched Lucius' cheek with cold, clammy hands. "Please."
"Narcissa, stop grabbing me." Lucius shoved Narcissa off, holding her wrists in effort to still her. "Stop being hysterical. Think if Draco saw you like this. Tonight is going to be simple and quick. The boy will not even know what is happening until it is too late. Think of the glory." He released her wrists.
Narcissa stood very still, her haughtiness and regality once again etched in every line in her face. She spoke with deadly calm even though her eyes remained glazed and distant.
"If you fail, he will punish you."
***
"I must say, Lucius, gray isn't really your color." Lucius jerked, sluggishly blinking half-focused eyes as Narcissa's face faded from his mind.
"Yaxley," he managed to hiss from between cracked lips. "Have you come to gloat or is there some other reason you're here to disturb me?" Lucius slowly managed to pull himself into a sit with great effort.
Yaxley laughed harshly. "To gloat? Never, Lucius! I come to bring a message from the Dark Lord himself." At these words, Lucius' sunken face drained of what little color remained. Using the wall for support, he struggled to his feet.
"You?! He sent you?!" he snarled in disbelief, breathing heavily through his nose. "Why would he send a worthless toad like you to deliver a message?"
"Times are changing, dear friend. As some fail, others must rise to take their places."
"Others must rise to take their places?" Lucius' eyes narrowed in barely suppressed fury. "Surely you aren't talking about yourself, Yaxley. You who were so low in the Dark Lord's favor that you were not even granted a glance, much less a word, at the rebirthing ceremony? You who were so favored by the Dark Lord that you were not sent on the most important mission to recover the prophecy? While we were battling dangers and Dumbledore's lackeys, where were you? No doubt cowering safely in some hole somewhere…"
Yaxley flushed an angry red but contorted his features into an ugly smirk. "Goad me all you want, Lucius. I am not the one locked in solitary at Azkaban. I am not the one who has disappointed the Dark Lord himself. Actually, I should be coming to thank you. After all, if it wasn't for your little fiasco at the Ministry, I wouldn't have the Dark Lord's ear as I do now. So, thank you."
Lucius bared his teeth furiously. Striding forward to stand eye to eye, Yaxley's tone turned more somber. "The Dark Lord is not pleased with you, Lucius. That prophecy was of paramount importance to him. Now it is lost forever due to your negligence." Slowly, circling the prisoner, Yaxley watched Lucius very carefully. Malfoy stood perfectly still, but his hands clenched tightly into fists, betraying his fear. He had been awaiting his judgment since his first day in Azkaban.
"Dumbledore and his accursed Order weren't supposed to be there." Lucius breathed. "It was supposed to be a quick retrieval mission. How were we to know—"
"The Dark Lord isn't interested in your pathetic excuses. You let the situation get out of hand. You are the reason the Dark Lord was forced to reveal his return. Do you even understand the advantage we had when the Ministry and the Wizarding World at large were conveniently ignoring his return? And as for Dumbledore and his minions, it was your job to retrieve the prophecy not duel with every Order member you see! You even managed to let Harry Potter evade our capture once more!"
"There was nothing I could do, surely the Dark Lord is aware of our situation—"
"You failed, Malfoy. The Dark Lord doesn't tolerate failure." Yaxley stepped away from Lucius, looming dark and terrible in the blackness of the cell. "The Dark Lord sends you this message. Crucio!" Lucius screamed and fell to the floor, his torn fingernails ripping the flesh on his face. Coldly, Yaxley watched as his former rival writhed on the floor in agony. With a jerk of his wand, the curse was lifted and Lucius lay still, eyes once more staring up into the darkness.
Yaxley knelt down on the ground beside him and spoke harshly into his ear. "The pain you experienced is nothing compared to what will happen to you the next time he sees you. There is only one who can save you and restore your family's honor. We are coming for him. We are coming for Draco."
"No…" Lucius pleaded weakly without a voice. "Not my son…" Yaxley's voice dropped to a lethal whisper.
"He will punish you."
With these final words, Yaxley stood and disapparated in a wisp of black smoke. Lucius felt the cold resettle into his bones and could do nothing but watch his failure over and over again as the memory replayed again and again…
***
"THE PROPHECY, GIVE ME THE PROPHECY, POTTER!" Lucius spat at the boy, clutching him in an iron grip. Struggling furiously, Potter desperately flung the spun-glass orb away from him.
"Neville – catch it!" The Longbottom boy caught it and tried to crawl away despite his flailing legs. Smirking, Lucius turned his wand on him, loosening his hold on Potter for half a second—
"Impedimenta!" Lucius hurdled backward through the air, crashing hard on the dais in the center of the room. From across the room, he saw Potter glaring at him with…was that defiance? At that moment Lucius wanted to kill him, to torture him slowly until he cried for mercy, to watch the defiance leak out of those eyes along with any life left after the Cruciatus . A jet of red light whizzed past his head.
"Get out of my way, Lucius, you fool!" Bellatrix kicked him as she darted forward to throw a spell at Black. "Come and get me, sweet cousin!" she taunted with a maniacal laugh.
Lucius clamored to his feet, his next curse on his lips as he aimed for the Potter boy once more. Suddenly, Lupin apparated in front of Potter. "Harry, round up the others, and GO!" he yelled, pointing to the stairs then deflecting the curse in one fluid motion. Snarling with anger, Lucius threw another spell at Lupin, who again deflected it away to explode itself on the staircase Potter was trying to escape. The stair crumbled, losing all footing for Potter and Longbottom. As they fell, Lucius thought he saw a tiny white ball fly from the grasp of one of the boys and smash into the floor.
"NOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOO!!"
***