Chapter Six: Avada Kedavra
Shit, thought Lucius as he gazed into the mirror, blood dripping off his face and onto the bathroom floor. He recalled the events of the past hour.
He'd done well enough convincing the boy, after his memory modification, that he had been his guardian for the past two years, and that he'd forgotten it all due to some bullshit disease.
But, for once, things did not go according to plan. Harry had reacted very strangely to the cup, and the evidence was on Lucius' face: two long gashes were bleeding profusely below his right eye. Lucius could only describe Harry, holding the cup, as possessed; when he snatched the cup from his grasp, Harry attacked him like a wild animal.
In the end, a stupefication was necessary.
Lucius flicked out his wand and whispered "curatio"; he winced as the gashes were reduced to superficial red marks, which were still quite inflamed. It would take a while to heal completely, but this was all he could do for now.
At the very least, Harry's reaction to the Cup and Diary proved to Lucius that, firstly, Voldemort knew how to make horcruxes and had, in fact, done just that several times; and, secondly, that Harry himself had some sort of connection with the horcruxes.
Lucius, however, was dumbfounded as to why the Boy Who Lived had done just that—especially in the face of a terribly nasty Killing Curse. He knew of no such protective spell that could shield off such a powerful curse, or why the caster would vanish after using it. It was one mystery Lucius couldn't solve, and it bothered him constantly.
Lucius glanced once more into the bathroom mirror, hoping perhaps the wounds had healed in the two minutes he'd spent thinking. After all, he couldn't show himself right now to Narcissa and the boy; they'd ask where he got the gashes, and he'd have to waste time and energy making up a believable story for them. He thought of every spell he could, but he couldn't recall an anti-inflammatory jinx.
As he gazed into the mirror, Lucius was suddenly startled by a strange noise coming from behind him. Behind him, Lucius was shocked to see that his house-elf, Dobby, had appeared in the mirror. Lucius turned around to address his servant.
Dobby was covered in mud, his large eyes were bloodshot, and he was shaking. Lucius could tell he hadn't slept in weeks. In his hand he held a large, squirming snake by the head.
"So you've finally returned . . . with the Dark Lord in tow, I see."
"Yes, Master," Dobby said shakily, "Dobby searched high and low, he did. Three separate countries. Of course, it was not difficult to find as large a Dark energy as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir. Even in his weakened state, sir, Dobby did." Dobby feigned a grin.
"Drop him," Lucius commanded.
"But, sir, he is still very dangerous—"
"Dobby, you have two weeks' worth of chores to get done, and I suggest you get started right away. Now, drop him."
With a snap of his fingers, Dobby disapparated; consequently, the snake feel to the floor with a thud and immediately rose to a defensive position, hissing and showing its fangs.
Lucius grinned to himself. "At last . . . I've finally found you, my Lord. My, you certainly have changed. You were once a terror whose dark aura could be felt miles away by any magical being. But look at you now—a mere reptile."
The snake hissed louder.
"Now, now, don't lose your head, my Lord. What are you going to do, bite me? I bet you didn't even possess a poisonous snake."
The snake struck forward, but Lucius managed to dodge; it hit the mirror, shattering it loudly.
"My Lord, I must commend you. Even in your unfortunate state, you have still managed to keep your short temper."
Lucius dodged another strike, and the snake hit the wall and fell to the floor, dazed.
"How does it feel for you, perhaps the most powerful wizard ever known, to have a simple Killing Curse utterly fail you and maim you so? To flee, in spirit, and hop from one living thing to the next, slowly sucking the life out of each one? In fact, with all the energy you're exerting trying to superficially wound your old servant you should be starting to feel more and more fatigued by the moment—"
The snake launched at Lucius, and, missing, hit the toilet, breaking several large chunks out of the porcelain. One landed on the snake's lower body; Lucius heard a crunch as the bones there were shattered. The snake seemed to scream out in pain; blood pooled on the tiled floor.
Lucius knelt down next to the Dark Lord. "Pinned down, I see," he said, glaring at the moaning snake as it tried, unsuccessfully, to free itself from the piece of porcelain. "You know, it's a shame you couldn't have a more dignified death, my Lord. You did teach me everything I know about the Dark Arts, after all. But, unfortunately, your schemes of revenge stand in the way of my plans. See, I plan to make Harry Potter my ally. That and the fact that I'm about to kill the wizard who nearly slayed the Boy Who Lived will be enough to grant me nearly unlimited power in the Wizarding World."
The Dark Lord screamed in agony.
"Don't worry, my Lord, I'll make it quick," said Lucius, standing. He flicked out his wand promptly and pointed it at the screeching snake.
"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius shouted—and a large, green orb shot out lightning-fast from his wand and struck the Dark Lord in the head. The snake's whole body glowed red, began to convulse violently for a few moments, and then fell lifeless to the floor.
An obsidian mist rose from the corpse's gaping eyes and mouth; almost instantly, Lucius felt an agonizing burning sensation on his forearm. Forced to the floor and screaming in pain, he lifted his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark burning, blood-red, off his arm. After a few moments, the blackness of the skull-and-snake was gone, leaving only a faint scar behind.
Lucius sat, breathing heavily, in the bathroom floor, the dead body of the Dark Lord only a few feet away from him. He used a Summoning Charm to call Victor; within a few minutes, the manservant arrived at the bathroom, his mouth agape.
"Victor," said Lucius softly, "prepare a bonfire in the south garden—quickly. I'll join you shortly."
"Yes, master." He nodded and sauntered off.
Lucius rose slowly, and, grasping his arm, walked to his bedroom and retrieved a large cloth sack. Returning to the washroom, he stuffed the Dark Lord's corpse in the sack and promptly apparated to his basement vault; there, he retrieved the Cup and Diary, putting one in his free hand and stuffing the other under his arm. He apparated again: this time to the south garden.
There, standing in front of him, was Victor; he had retrieved about a dozen logs of firewood from the conservatory and set fire to them. The blaze reached over six feet in the air.
"Ah, it's ready for you, sir," said Victor, eyeing Lucius' load.
"Leave me," muttered Lucius. Victor nodded and walked towards the manor, leaving Lucius alone. The sun was setting, and it was beginning to get quite chilly; the cold air burned the scar on Lucius' arm. Remembering what he was here to do, Lucius laid his sack and the Cup on the lawn and threw the Diary in the fire. He watched as the pages were engulfed; the flames emitted a dark, black smoke. Lucius thought he heard a faint scream.
Next, he hoisted the Cup and hurled it into the fire; within a minute, the metal was melting and the black smoke grew thicker.
Finally, Lucius grabbed Voldemort's reptilian corpse out of the sack. Holding it by the head, he spoke weakly:
"You could have done it all, my Lord. But, alas, you were foiled by an infant. And it is for that reason you had to be destroyed."
He tossed the snake into the fire and watched as the flames melted the Dark Lord's flesh. The black smoke covered the whole yard now, bringing with it a putrid stench.
Thus, the greatest Dark Wizard the world has ever known dies like an animal.
Though he knew his work was not yet done, Lucius was calm.
