The Beginnings of a Death Eater—Chapter Four
Macnair hovered at the foot of Lucius' bed, making no sound. He'd been waiting for over an hour for the youth to awaken, he'd wait indefinitely if necessary, his master's order being quite explicit. He didn't particularly look forward to speaking to Lucius at the moment, not with the news he had to offer. The young bloke, Severus, had healed him up and fed him a sleeping potion, that wasn't the problem. There was talk. Slytherin students, lamentably, loved to gossip as much as anyone else, meaning the visit by Mr. Malfoy would be well-circulated by now. If Lucius had any illusions of pretending none of this had happened, he was in for a rude shock.
It was a pity, Macnair mused. Of all the Slytherin students he knew, Lucius was not the most maltreated by a long shot, violent discipline being a hallmark of their House. Custom around this House dictated that when someone turned up brutalized, the rest affected indifference, they blatantly ignored the situation unless to render aid. It was a system that had worked for a very long time. Lucius would be mortified when he woke up to find his father's visit public knowledge even among the rest of Hogwarts students. He'd be far more displeased when Macnair told him the dark lord wished to see him. Macnair pulled up a chair and sat down to wait.
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"You don't have to go with me," Lucius said to Macnair. In truth, it more closely resembled a growl. Had he been a wild animal, he likely would have attacked the other boy and chewed his throat out. This was all Macnair's fault for suggesting he become a Death Eater, for taking him to meet the dark lord! If he'd minded his own business, Lucius would be a normal teenager with normal problems!
"My fault?' Macnair sneered, then guffawed at the shock on Lucius' face. "Lord Voldemort teaches his followers more than how to kill. You're way too easy to read."
"You read my mind?" demanded Lucius, not really believing it. Yes, the dark lord had done so, but that had felt like an invasion of his mind and soul. This time he felt nothing except vulnerable and weak.
Macnair gave a cocky toss of his head. "You practically threw it at me, Lucius. I can't get inside your head like he can. Yet."
"If I catch you trying, I'll stomp your head in."
Macnair rolled his eyes. "And, Lucius, you have nobody to blame but yourself. You got what you asked for, and if I was you I'd learn to guard my thoughts, especially when they're mutinous." He walked past, shoving into Lucius on the way out.
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The instant Voldemort Apparated into the odd little parlor, Macnair fell to his knees. Alarmed when Lucius failed to do the same, he tugged on the boy's belt, dragging the resistant Lucius down with him. If he hadn't been afraid to do so at the sight of the dark wizard, Lucius would have jumped back up. A Malfoy kneeling like a serf before another? Unheard of!
"You object to showing proper deference, young Malfoy?" cooed Voldemort in a sugary voice dripping with undertones.
"No, sir." He bowed his head to shield his eyes.
"Call me 'master'."
Lucius' lips refused to cooperate. He opened his mouth, desperately trying to placate the terrifying man in front of him. It was only a word, a word didn't have to mean anything. But it did! It meant a lifetime of servitude to a cruel, evil wizard, it meant leaving behind the chance to ever live a respectable life. It meant being a powerless slave. He couldn't do it.
"Crucio." Voldemort almost whispered the curse, yet it struck Lucius full force.
Screams poured from him, more powerful and numerous than he thought possible from one human being. Compared to the fire burning every pore of his body while he writhed on the floor, his father's canings seemed feeble, almost friendly. If he could have choked out a sentence, he would have begged for it to stop, yet all he could do was scream.
Voldemort lifted his wand. Lucius lay prostrate, panting and crying while feeling returned to his tingling limbs. It's a word, Lucius, he shouted at himself. Say it. Just say it!
"I believe I gave you an order," said Voldemort pleasantly, smiling, his demeanor completely out of touch with his deeds.
"I—why?" Lucius choked.
"Crucio," Voldemort murmured again. As Lucius rolled about shrieking in agony, he bent over next to his ear. "Because you will obey me, you will grovel at my feet and thank me for the opportunity to do so. And you will acknowledge me as your lord and master."
The torture continued at length with Macnair kneeling across the room, watching in horror, certain his friend's demise was imminent. At the same time, he was torn. Lucius agreed to follow Lord Voldemort. If he was punished for refusing, didn't he deserve it? Then again, if the dark lord killed Lucius, he'd have a hard time explaining to everyone what had occurred.
"My lord," he ventured, barely audible through the howls. "Master, give him another chance, please."
Voldemort shifted his gaze to the youth. "You expect mercy from me, Macnair?" He sounded surprised.
"No, my lord! It's just that you said Lucius could serve you well as an adult."
"I did, didn't I?" Once more he lifted the wand, though this time Lucius collapsed completely, making no movement, no cries. Only the faint rising and falling of his chest showed he still lived. Voldemort poked him in the side with his foot. "Who am I, Lucius?"
Eyes closed, throat raw, Lucius whispered, "Master. My master."
"I have a task for you, Lucius." With a flick of his wand Voldemort propped him up on his knees. Lucius opened his eyes weakly, barely able to focus and entirely unable to ask what this task might entail. Fortunately, Voldemort proffered the information. "Bring me a new follower."
"Who, my lord?" he croaked.
"I'll leave that up to you. Contact me when you're ready to present your offering." His voice hardened. "And I wouldn't delay too long. Your master's patience has limits."
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"Lucius?" Narcissa waved a hand in front of his face, smiling. "You seem so preoccupied lately, ever since your—since Sirius told on us."
Her smile dimmed at the recollection of the fallout. Her mother had sent a howler lasting nearly thirty minutes, rebuking her viciously in front of the whole cafeteria. She'd been thoroughly humiliated, nor had Lucius been spared. Mr. Malfoy, in his fury, had made a special trip to Hogwarts to beat his son for his underhanded, embarrassing courtship, which made Narcissa feel at fault for being the object of Lucius' affection. Although Lucius refused to discuss it, there was more to it. He'd left the grounds later that day, only to return after she'd already gone to bed. She couldn't imagine what his father might have done or said, but she read an underlying fear attending Lucius ever since then. Two weeks later, nothing had changed.
Lucius acknowledged his girl by cuddling up close and squeezing her, his only solace in the midst of the nightmare that used to be his life. Preoccupied? You could say that, if preoccupied covered even the tip of his assignment to lead another down the path to hell as Lord Voldemort's lackey! Some good had come from that day, he thought to himself. Now that their relationship was no longer clandestine, they were free to behave like teenagers in love, which was what he planned to do. There under a stately oak in broad daylight, they held each other in silence, a disquieting silence punctuated by the stares of passing students. To their credit, none of them commented openly on the relationship, save one fool.
"Cissy," came a mocking sing-song from a fair distance away.
Narcissa didn't bother to look, she knew that voice.
"Didn't your mother just finish chewing you out for being with him?"
"Get bent, pervert!" she bellowed, most unladylike.
Lucius gently pushed her away from him. "I'll deal with him, honey." He stood up and smoothed his robes.
"No, you'll get in trouble again." Her hand latched onto his arm, her fingernails digging in painfully as he pulled to free himself. "Lucius, please!"
He bent over to kiss her forehead. "The fierce dragon must assert his dominance, Narcissa, unless he wants to be a doormat for the rest of his life." It struck him like a blow to the chest that he was a doormat, for Voldemort, anyway. He would not give that power to another ever again.
When Sirius saw Lucius approaching, he scampered back to the safety of his gang. Lucius calmly continued, eyeing each one in turn. James Potter: Gryffindor seeker, smug, swaggering prig. Regis or Rebus or some such name: decent enough, never seemed to join in his friends' cruel games, shouldn't be hanging out with this motley crew. Peter Pelican, was it?: sniveling, backbiting rodent who probably couldn't get any other friends. What a bunch of losers!
He stalked right up to where the four stood gawking at him. In a level voice he said, "Sirius, I'd like to speak with you. Alone."
"You can talk in front of us," Potter said.
Peter and Sirius nodded and mumbled agreement. Only Remus looked as if he meant to leave. With the way the others teased him in the past, he hated to be the only one breaking with the group.
Lucius turned his head slowly until his eyes burned into the younger boy's. "I don't recall addressing you, Potter. However, since the coward is afraid to face me alone, I'll say my piece." To Sirius he continued, "Next year, after Narcissa and I graduate, we shall marry. Lamentably, this will make you family. I suggest you decide whether you prefer a cordial relationship or a venomous one. It makes no difference to me."
"If you don't care, why'd you come over here?"
"For Narcissa's sake."
"I think you're full of it," Sirius retorted, looking to his friends for support. Their laughter grated on Lucius. "You just don't want us picking on you, right?"
The Slytherin's back straightened a bit more, if possible. Haughtily he replied, "You've been warned." He spun on his heel to storm off. As he retreated back to Narcissa, their cackling felt like nails to his skull. They were asking for it, he'd make sure they got it. "Time to play hardball with the big boys, snotty brats," he muttered.
"What did you say to them?" asked Narcissa.
"I offered a truce, he threw it in my face," said Lucius.
She gave him a sad, consoling smile. "Sirius and I never really got along. He doesn't act like a Black, he acts more…"
"Like a Potter?" Lucius finished for her, wrinkling his nose.
Nodding, she said, "Yes, I suppose so."
Lucius took his place in the grass beside her, aware of the eyes observing him. Let them look, let them get a good look, he thought as he deliberately crushed her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers. She melted against him, returning his ardor. In an instant he forgot the prying eyes, the jeering laughter. All that existed, all that mattered was her.
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Excitement brimmed over in the Slytherin boys' dormitory, the sixth and seventh years, anyway. Tonight there would be, for the first time in over forty years, a hazing! For several days they'd met covertly, organizing their strategy under the tutelage of their prefect, who advised them quite strongly to keep this to themselves. As Hogwarts no longer condoned the fine game, the Head of House would be required to suppress or report any such activities, and all participants were subject to severe penalties. In a nutshell, they were bucking the rules and defying authority, which of course encouraged them all the more.
Come midnight, wands at ready, hoods up, the young men filed out in absolute silence, giddy with anticipation. When they reached Gryffindor House, the spy in charge of learning the password gained them entry, from where they broke into small groups according to plan and stole quietly into several of the boys' rooms. Notably they bypassed any room housing students of their own age and skill level.
On cue they broke into a raucous riot. Books and papers flew and scattered about, students were covered with blankets and pummeled by invisible hands, charmed pixies attacked noses and ears, bed curtains swirled around rooms like dementors, terrorizing the younger boys, who screamed and shrieked as they alternately tried to beat away the creatures and find their wands.
Before the older students had awakened fully enough to investigate and come to the children's rescue, the Slytherins ran en masse out the way they'd come. Arriving back to their own common room, they threw off their robes, eyes shining, laughing and chattering as they shared their exploits and merriment. A few minutes later, slinking in unnoticed, Lucius, Macnair, and two others joined them, grim smiles of satisfaction across their faces.
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"I truly am sorry, Mr. Malfoy, that our paths seem to cross only under unpleasant circumstances. I assure you, this incident has been fully examined, and I regret to tell you that your son appears to be the ringleader. As prefect, he is duty bound to prevent such chaos, making this scene doubly insidious."
"Professor Dumbledore, I apologize for his antics, but isn't one month of suspension excessive? He'll miss classes all the way up until Easter holiday."
Dumbledore bit back a reply that some of Mr. Malfoy's punishments might be deemed excessive as well. Before his father arrived, Lucius had pleaded with the Headmaster, had argued it was only harmless fun, a prank that got carried away. He'd nearly burst into tears as he recounted what his father would do to him. Dumbledore had seen many frightened students in his time, this had been no pretense.
"Mr. Malfoy, over twenty students were assaulted, some of them injured. One lad was found next to the woods badly beaten and hanging by one leg from a rope tied to a tree branch. He nearly lost his foot. This is not simply boys on a jaunt, it was calculated ruthlessness. Parents are demanding justice, and after Lucius' incident with the beater's bat, he's lucky not to be expelled."
"I understand, but Lucius isn't the only guilty boy. Why is he being singled out? You say the others fingered him as the ringleader, yet they participated. According to my son, he didn't lay a hand on anyone!" Abraxas' cool drawl had given way to seething resentment. "You're making him the scapegoat!"
From outside Dumbledore's office, Lucius overheard the argument, more than a little surprised to hear his father actually defending him. Not to say he thought it would in any way mitigate the thrashing he was in for, but it felt good nonetheless. He gave a wry smile; at least that little jackal Sirius had got his comeuppance. Too bad they'd saved him before his foot fell off. The Headmaster mumbled something else, then silence.
The door flew open. Abraxas stormed out, calling to his son as he passed, "Come, Lucius!" Like a puppy he trailed after the man, listening to him mutter angrily, "That Dumbledore is the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts!"
Lucius thought it prudent to keep his mouth shut. The less said, the less to be turned against him. As far as his books and personal items were concerned, they'd be sent tomorrow, no doubt. As for Narcissa… the thought of a month without her broke his heart. He'd see her over the break, Father had agreed to allow the courtship, but still, a whole month!
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Abraxas growled as they padded across the yard to the outskirts of Hogwarts, from where they could Disapparate. "You're a constant trial."
Lucius could have let it go, he knew he ought to let it go, but damn it he was upset, too. "You'd probably be happy if I let the dark lord kill me."
Abraxas whirled on him with an incredulous expression, then delivered a backhand that almost knocked him down. "Don't you ever talk like that again! You're a monumental pain in the ass, but you're my son and I love you!"
Lucius stood staring at the man, rubbing a hand over his throbbing cheek. The set of his father's face, the fear simmering behind his bravado… he meant it. He really meant it. Abraxas had grown up in the Malfoy tradition. Malfoy men weren't demonstrative with their children, they didn't coddle them, at times they were harsh with them…but they loved them. Until this moment he hadn't quite realized that.
"Father, I'm sorry to shame you again," he said softly.
"Why did you do this? What possessed you to organize this fiasco?" Not for a moment did he doubt the veracity of this particular accusation. "You're intelligent, Lucius, you had to know the truth would out and you'd be punished."
Lucius gave a weak shrug. "I figured if they found out, I'd only get detention and you'd never know."
"You lied to Dumbledore when you said you didn't lay a hand on any of the students, didn't you?"
"No, sir. I admit I used my wand, only he never asked about that."
Abraxas chuckled under his breath. How like his son to stand on a technicality. "You haven't explained why. This was more than a lark."
"Revenge," he admitted, ducking his head. "I only wanted to get Sirius for squealing to you about Narcissa. If I beat him up alone, I'd be caught immediately; the way it happened, no one can prove he was the objective all along."
"Very clever."
"Apparently not clever enough," answered Lucius, grimacing. "All my so-called friends turned on me."
His father took him by the arm and they Disapparated, then Apparated in front of Malfoy Manor. "Consider it one of life's lessons. Given the opportunity, most people will cut your throat if it gains something for them. Watch your back."
Lucius nodded, tucking away this morsel in his brain along with the rest of his advice offered over the years. It felt good to be having a real conversation with his father, comforting even. To his amazement, he wasn't even afraid anymore, even in the face of what he'd done.
"Father, since we've discussed my transgression, and I'm already being punished by Professor Dumbledore, it's not really necessary to whip me, too, is it?"
Abraxas raised his eyebrows in surprised amusement at the audacity. "Oh, yes. It is."
"Just checking."