Disclaimer: All the characters, creatures etc in the Harry Potter universe belong to J. K. Rowling. All original characters, plot etc belong to me – especially Tecwyn Malfoy, so hands off him! No money is being made.
Warning: Perhaps some OOCness from Lucius? Depends on your point of view.
A/N: Thoughts/conscience look like so: 'and'. Not beta read so all mistakes are my own.
Thank you for your review Sahrious!
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Chapter One
1973 – June, Midnight, Death Eater Meeting
Lucius peered up at the very tall figure striding about on the stage heart thumping wildly. His words set a fire in his blood for he was right. Why should pure-bloods come second – or even third – to Muggle-borns and half-bloods? After all, wasn't the threat from these mixed breeds and their Muggle parents and not from honest and true blood? Trembling with excitement Lucius leaned over to Mcnair voice almost shaking with the effects of the spell he was fast becoming entangled in. Yet excitement was not the only reason his voice resounded, making him sound drugged, desire also soared through his system.
Eyes catching for a single moment the pitch black of the Dark Lord Lucius felt his heart constrict and knew he was lost. In that single instant that their eyes met and held Lucius fell in love. As the tempo reached its peak Lucius forsook reason forever, eagerly drawing Macnair after him to sign up as a Death Eater.
His father had done his work well.
Two Months Later – Malfoy Manor, Initiation into the CircleLucius Malfoy surveyed the mingling crowd eager to catch a glimpse of his soon-to-be-Master. Soon he would be a Death Eater and his love's most faithful follower. He ignored the presence of Walden by his side his mind drifting to wonderful dreams of red satin sheets, flushed skin pressed upon them, and moans mixing in the heavy musk scented air.
Strong commanding hands stroking a blazing trail over his porcelain flesh, his legs wrapped around a thrusting man – his Master claiming him in every meaning of the word. A tight hot ball of need formed in the pit of his stomach forcing Lucius to return to the reality of the room before he made a spectacle of himself.
Tecwyn watched his son from the shadows, anxiety clenching his belly in a vice grip. How could he do this to his son? Why had he done this? 'To save your wife,' came the treacherous voice that tormented his sleeping and waking moments. Closing his eyes Tecwyn Malfoy wished he had not sold his son to the Devil's minion on Earth, but at the time, grief over the supposed loss of his wife drove reason out of his head.
Since when did a Malfoy serve anyone but himself or herself? But it was too late now to try and save his son, he had seen to that. All that could be done was to ensure his son's happiness under this cruel man obsessed with immortality. Not the immortality of legend but the immortality of body and mind. Insanity itself! Death was not to be cheated and was the order of things upon Earth, to attempt to trick it led only to madness and loss of self … loss of the soul. There was a stirring. He had arrived.
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Tecwyn Malfoy stepped out onto the balcony that oversaw the back garden. A rustle of clothing alerted him to the presence of others on the neighbouring balcony. Hastily he moved into the deeper shadows so that he would not be seen. He quietly observed the play unfolding in front of his eyes.
His son lent against the railing, silver hair glowing in the starlight. The moon hanging in the heavens added to the ethereal image that the young man cast. He seemed to be lost in thought. A darker figure joined his son causing his boy to turn in surprise. Without a sound the taller form strode to Lucius drawing him into his arms, dark eyes boring into his son's soul. Demon and fallen Angel they appeared. Light and dark. Tempter and tempted. The Dark Lord obviously liked what he saw for he ran a long pale finger down the side of his son's face ere brushing strong lips over pliant eager ones. Smirking in delight his voice held triumph.
"Mine, body and spirit."
Silent in his heartache Tecwyn withdrew. It wouldn't be long now.
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"We gather to initiate another into our family," came the cold booming voice of Voldemort. "Attend."
Tecwyn shifted, eyes never leaving his son's kneeling form enclosed in a tight, small circle of Death Eaters. Voldemort had deemed that his son should not have a full crowd to witness his birth into new life, only his most trusted and, since Tecwyn had begged, Lucius' father. Heart constricted with worry he wondered exactly what the Dark Lord would require as proof of his son's loyalty. However, while he worried he knew, (with not a little amount of pride), that his son would be up to the task – he was after all a Malfoy.
Voldemort moved forward to stand before the submissive figure.
"Hold out your left arm with the sleeve drawn back."
Lucius did so, calm eyes upon his soon-to-be Lord, breath barely escaping his mouth. Only a sliver of excitement showed in his grey orbs. Smiling ever so slightly at his eager recruit Voldemort grasped the arm in a hold as strong as steel. Pressing the tip of his wand to the porcelain flesh he murmured a series of words. A hot blinding flash later Lucius let out a short scream as the smell of smoking flesh filled the room. Blood driped. Tecwyn started forward to only be halted by a pair of arms. Raising the branded limb in the air Voldemort let out a cry.
"Behold our new family member! Welcome him!"
Lowering the arm he allowed a feral smile to grace his face. The congratulations were short. The Dark Lord signalled the end to the welcoming committee.
"Leave. Do what you will."
Passion burned hotly in his piercing dark eyes as he gazed at Lucius.
"And we? We have a prior appointment."
Stroking Lucius' face he pulled him to his feet.
"I have better ideas as to what to do with this silken skin than mere stroking. Time for me to fully claim you my love."
Lucius whimpered.
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1978, Five years later, Christmas Eve
Firm lips clashed, each duelling for dominance, even though the victor by now was preordained. Sampling the fine nectar within Thomas Riddle withdrew, smirking in victory as he observed his lover's state. His hot breath wafted over Lucius' flushed skin causing the younger man to shiver in anticipation. His fine long legs spread submissively on the rumpled bed sheets made Thomas hiss in delight. Seeing the absolute ardour and enamoured expression in sliver eyes he made his final decision. Leaning over the sprawled form he spoke in low tones, moist lips tickling the sensitive skin of the right ear.
"Can you yet comprehend after all these years what secrets I can tell you?"
The husky tones forced Lucius to close his eyes. Swallowing hard he opened them to lock the grey pools on the burning green above. Desire warred within him – the desire to be trusted with his Lord's most intimate secrets, and the desire for knowedlge and more power. Therefore the truth was best.
"No, but I still wish to try." A smile of satisfaction met this whispered confession.
"You are mine?"
"I can never belong to anyone else – I love you."
"Love is a weakness to be exploited, but I do not hold it against you my dragon. What I tell you now must not be repeated to another living soul, or – love or not – I must kill you. Something which I rather not have to do – understand?"
A gasp. "Yes."
"Then listen carefully my little dragon…."
- Lucius' Diary -
24/12/1978
I know what my father and grandfather did not know, that the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, is nothing more than a half-blood, one of those who he considers beneath pure-bloods. He is nothing compared to my blood status, purest of pure; no taint for centuries uncounted, if one listens, no adheres, to my teachings. Yet I serve power not blood.
For if I served blood status would I not simply follow Albus Dumbledore? But what does he know of power? No, my Master and Lord is Thomas Riddle, hailed by many names: Voldemort (by few), Master (by many), He Who Must Not Be Named (by still many more) and so on. I fear and love him; I am lost to darkness' embrace without hope, even should I wish for 'redemption'. LM
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1981, Halloween, 1500 hours
Voldemort leant over the oak table, upon which a map had been stretched across the polished wooden surface. A wavering finger pointed out his destination. Fear hung in the air, smelling of the most expensive incense. Licking his lips to catch the tangy taste while his nostrils twitched to capture the heady aroma the Dark Lord grinned cruelly. 'Soon James Potter, you and your pesky wife will no longer bother me and your son will never be given the opportunity to destroy me.'
Turning to his second in command he ordered him to keep an eye on Lucius while he was gone. In the bedroom he kissed the sleeping form before Apparating to Malfoy Manor to conceal some of his possessions in the attic. As he left, cloak billowing out behind him in the draft, he did not notice an item falling behind one of the chests.
It was a faded black diary with gold edging. There was only one symbol on the cover.
1942