Minutes later after the long hour, Scabior heard very soft footsteps, almost silent like they were sneaking as he was but with his alert ears, he had heard and immediately turned away from the wall and he was facing another hooded figure who appeared to be walking to that same room many others were in, but this one wasvery late.
Instead of black and almost death-like robes with a silvery mask, this person was wearing a really dark purple silk cloak, the sleeves in which covered the arms and hands, the hood which shrouded the new face, and the rest hiding whatever was worn underneath.
The person stopped and watched him and he, although he couldn't see the stranger's face, stared right back. The moments of silence were driving him crazy as his eyes took in the whole person again, bottom to top.
"Who're you?" he spat, glaring suspiciously.
The hooded person must've smiled or reacted somehow, he just knew it, but it was nothing he could see and he was sure the sleeves weren't long enough to have a wand hidden but even if it was, he was quick, he'd dodged a lot.
"Answer me!" Scabior ordered, his eyes narrowing.
The person's hand lifted up calmly but he jumped back and drew his wand so the other dropped their arm by their side again, passing him, looking straight at him until they opened the door and was gone, not saying a word to the Dark Lord by what he heard.
"Bloody 'ell," Scabior said, watching the door.
"Damn woman," he whispered to himself, his thoughts and words blocking the voices that came from the room.
Just for the moments he'd been around her, Scabior was sure it was a woman, probably older than himself too. What man would wear that color in silk or really even that much of that color? What man would have almost an entire inch of fingernails painted red? What straight man would walk the way that person just had?
"Of course 'e might no' be straight," Scabior smirked to himself but he honestly didn't think that was likely.
'Who cares about some woman, she's probably just an attention whore?' he thought, rolling his eyes and he turned back to the wall to listen some more.
Scabior had taught himself to notice a lot of little things most people would overlook and now it came easily, with no conscious, he simply noticed because it was in his interest to do so and only because it was. It never really had been in his interest to notice this "Lord" but some things just made him curious, curiosity was a weakness, but those smaller things such as a woman, a gash across someone's face, a person crying by themselves, for example, just annoyed him because he had no care or interest in them yet would still see.
Then again, his curiosity had only kicked up about the "Dark Lord" because he was spoken about at school, mostly just among the Slytherins and some of them had foolishly branded themselves with what they all called the "Dark Mark" which he thought a stupid name and a stupid idea to mark oneself with their loyalty, no matter how proud.
However, even with his wicked brilliance and his information finding skills and interrogation that seemed innocent, no one would ever speak the name of this Lord, no matter how scared they were that Scabior would hurt them they seemed too afraid or awed to say the name, something Scabior got so impatient with.
When you hit the spot, his temper could be murderous and every time their fear would lead them away from saying the name, they would get closer to seeing his true anger, not just that calm, sarcastic, coldness.
"Shut up," Scabior hissed to himself and he silenced his thoughts to listen in onto what they were saying again.
"This meeting is at an end, leave," a cold and commanding voice said, the voice of the "Lord" that the others were so afraid of, "Raine Lestrange, don't you dare leave, I need to speak with you and you will not leave this house until I do."
"Yes my Lord," an unfamiliar female's voice said.
As he heard dozens of footsteps, Scabior quickly left the hall and as quietly as he could, going all the way back to the living room, expecting many of the "Death Eaters" to come out the door but they all seemed to have apparated, yet he didn't stay to find that out.
"That fucking whore," someone said and Scabior quickly hid, seeing a blonde fourth year girl who had spoken to a darker haired fifth year who looked like she could be the darker version of the very proud-seeming blonde, both with skin as fair.
"I can't stand Rodolphus' cousin, we need to crucio her into telling us what is up with her and the Dark Lord," the darker one agreed spitefully.
"We know what's up, he trusts her more than he trusts you," the blonde said, opening the door to leave with her sister and their conversation faded.
'Bitches,' Scabior thought, going back into the room casually.
He knew both of them from school and both were sisters, as said, with the last name 'Black' a pureblood family, one was Narcissa and the other was Bellatrix and he knew they had a third sister in third year named Andromeda who seemed completely different, more sweet and kind and didn't seem a lot like a Slytherin sometimes.
"Hi," Lucius Malfoy, son of Scabior's guardians, said to Scabior.
Lucius looked rather sleepy and his platinum blonde hair was slightly messy, as if he'd just gotten out of bed and didn't even bother to comb his hair before meeting the Dark Lord with the rest of them.
"'ello fluffy," Scabior smirked.
They were like brothers who loved to pick on each other but Scabior just found happiness from bugging Lucius like that.
"I really should be saying the same to you," Lucius retorted, looking bored and tired.
"Scruffy maybe…but fluffy, ya kiddin me mate," Scabior said, "A cute little bunny rabbit you would make, eh Lucius?"
"I can't understand a word you're saying," Lucius lied.
"Rubbish pumpkin 'ead, you just don't like admitting I piss you off do ya?" Scabior smirked, "I think I'll stick with that."
"Just leave me alone, I'm not in the mood for this," Lucius growled.
"I am," Scabior retorted happily, yanking some of Lucius long-ish hair but not quite hard enough to pull any out.
"Scabior!" Lucius snapped, not liking that one bit.
"Ya?"
"Be nice, he only had four hours of sleep before having to get up again, something you, Scabior, would not understand," Abraxas Malfoy said, walking back into the room to join his son and Mrs. Malfoy was with him, also blonde but her hair was darker.
These two were Scabior's guardians and he hated it a little more than he really should but he dealt with it because it was also somewhat fun.
"Will I ever get to meet this "Lord" of yours?" Scabior asked carelessly.
"Not yet," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly.
"But Lucius gets to, every time you do he sees 'im, I know it," Scabior said coldly but he really didn't care.
He could easily 'run into' this "Lord" and meet him all on his own with his own skills but he had to try the easy way first because it'd use less time and he wouldn't have to plan it but his career interest had many obstacles where he'd most definitely have to use the hard way.
"Lucius is seventeen unlike you young man," Abraxas replied coldly, "Now go get ready for bed, brush your teeth, brush your hair, it's a mess, and sleep."
"Can you at least tell me your Lord's name?" Scabior asked crossly, his heart thumping in hope that he'd find that out finally.
That didn't happen.
"Now!" Mr. Malfoy said firmly.
Scabior sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and glaring and he walked up to the room he was given to stay in whilst he was here, swearing in his head the whole way up, not liking being younger cuz it was torture…no it was better, it was murder.
Although it was one of the smallest rooms in the entire manor, the room was rather large, too clean for Scabior's liking, too sophisticated too but it was better than an orphanage with a bunch of stinky muggle kids but he was thankful for the luxuries of a hot shower or bath, no matter how many days he could go without one.
The showers was actually one thing he felt that he couldn't live without, he could survive on his own without anything else but he wanted the showers and baths cuz they made him feel good and the feeling of being clean was nice once in a while.
This "Lord" that everyone kept talking about was actually the one who had told the Malfoys to go get him, knowing he was pureblood and a wizard and that was the only reason he was here so Scabior was to be thankful to a face he didn't know.
It bugged him, he did not like the whole thankful thing anyhow, yes he was happy to be alive but to be forced into thankfulness, let alone to someone or something he'd never known just wasn't something he was fond of.
Scabior took a long, hot bath before getting ready for bed and he slept in the comfortable, large bed, doing as much as he could to keep his mind away from the "Lord" so many had spoken about and to keep his mind away from annoyance before he slept.