A/N at bottom.

Acquainted with the Night

By Riddikulus

Chapter X: Of Some Very Unexpected Problems

"Out of the mud two strangers came..."

-From "Two Tramps in Mud Time" by Robert Frost

May 9, 1996

Lucius Malfoy folded his copy of the Daily Prophet and threw it upon the mahogany office desk in mild disgust. There had been some sort of meeting to which he had not been invited, and frankly, it was getting to him. There were secrets within the Death Eaters now, and Voldemort had now resumed his usual practice of playing favourites. Lucius had always expected that he would be amongst them; after all, Wormtail had been, though the Dark Lord despised the lowly rat. Right hand indeed. If that was all the Dark Lord had needed – he'd have persuaded Avery to do it.

Rather, Lucius had ended up with the detested fools who had claimed Imperius; he felt that he did not belong with such idiocy as Crabbe, Goyle and Avery, but dare he challenge his Lord and master? After all, a part of him deserved such treatment, but he had responded to the call, where others had not. Had he not been speaking to Avery at that exact moment, the snivelling coward may not have arrived at all. The Death Eaters were less-than-satisfactory as it stood, most being too cowardly to even go near the Dark Lord, and these had included Wormtail. Lucius and a select few others were the only ones who dared stand full height in front of him. Most of the valuable Death Eaters had been lost forever; there were the Lestranges, of course. Famous for their lack of denial and abundance of loyalty, but then, they were round the bend last Lucius had checked, and now they were missing. He had no idea where they were, which irked him even further. Severus Snape had been an asset to the Dark Lord, though he had turned even before the Dark Lord fell, Lucius assumed. He had been cleared inexplicably quickly, and with Dumbledore's word, which left room for suspicion. Moreover, he had been absent at the Dark Lord's resurrection.

Smart as he was for not turning spy for Dumbledore, as Lucius assumed he would do after Voldemort's return, Snape had been entirely absent from all Death Eater activity. And to even further Lucius' perplexity, Snape had even been teaching at Hogwarts the entire year, with no word to even Draco about his position in the War. Odd, but in any case, the Dark Lord had never pursued Snape to any extent, leaving Lucius feeling uncertain of his judgements. And what of the Lestranges? Surely if they were restored to their minds every Death Eater would be informed.

But if Lucius lacked information of that importance, could Snape be another secret weapon of Voldemort? A spy for the Dark Lord working within Hogwarts was always a convenience. Nevertheless, with so little information, Lucius was feeling growing vexation toward his current position to the Dark Lord, and a great desire to up his rank.

A brief lull in thought presented Lucius with the chance to leave his dreary green drawing room and head to the Ministry. Avery could surely report something of interest; he always found a way. There were many Death Eaters working within the Ministry now; all had rarely unimportant positions as far as information went, but Avery was the one person, much to Lucius' surprise, who could find the loophole and walk right through. Perhaps today would be one of those days; Lucius did feel rather contemptuous, and the House Elves were less-than-enticing as far as anger management could be concerned.

Lucius stood up from the desk, fully intent on grilling the first Death Eater within the Ministry for information, when one of the accursed elves entered the room. He never bothered with names anymore, but this was one of the ones whom he knew to be called...well, maybe he didn't know after all.

"Master Malfoy sir?" the lamentable creature squeaked. "Master Macnair is here to see you, sir."

Lucius' upper lip twitched. Macnair? What the devil did he want?

"Let him in," Lucius drawled, and he sat back behind the desk.

"Yes Master Malfoy sir. Pip is getting him, sir," the elf squeaked again, and bowed out of the open study door.

A moment later, the formidable-looking Ministry executioner stepped into the office. He wasn't smiling, but he seemed...upbeat. If it were even possible for Macnair to be even the slightest bit affable about anything.

Malfoy skipped preamble.

"What is it, Macnair?"

"I have some news, Lucius, that I thought may interest you," he said in his exhaustingly dramatic voice.

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Dare I ask what sort of news, or are you actually planning on telling me?" Lucius asked; poison dripping from his voice.

"Of course I was going to tell you, Lucius," Macnair returned, completely unflustered. "It would appear that Dumbledore has pinned a location on the Potter brat."

Lucius sat up, his interest keenly awakened. He didn't dare let his enthusiasm show, however. Being the Slytherin that he once was, he kept emotion down to when he was piqued or feeling particularly murderous.

"Dumbledore was looking for him, then?" Lucius replied calmly.

Macnair nodded. "Apparently he was spotted by a muggle in the States, of all places."

Lucius held back his confusion. "What made you think that this... occurrence, would interest me?" He fingered his wand, which was laying half out of its holster.

Macnair shifted slightly where stood. "You spoke of wanting to deliver his body to our Lord, Lucius," he stated pointedly.

"So I did, and so I still wish to do so," Lucius stated blandly. He wanted Macnair out.

"Avery's got his location," Macnair blurted suddenly, lips curling beneath a black moustache. "His exact location."

Lucius smiled and pulled out a piece of parchment from his desk.

"I'd very much like to speak with him then. Is he at the office?" He folded the parchment and stuck it under the holster of his wand.

Macnair nodded. "He was when I left. Shall I apparate back and inform him?"

Lucius shook his head. "No need. I'll floo and...surprise him." He let a small smirk play across his face. Avery may just have a heart attack. It would put both Lucius and Avery himself, no doubt, out of their misery.

Lucius stood and nodded to Macnair, who took the hint and bowed. "I don't suppose that I'll be seeing you later, Lucius. But if you get any ideas about Potter, do try and inform me of them." He smiled greasily and left.

Lucius strode over to an expensive vase, took up a bit of the floo powder inside of it into his hands, and threw it into the fireplace. He shouted his destination, and within moments, gracefully stepped into the dim offices of Avery and his associates. Well, as gracefully as one can when travelling by floo.

As Lucius had half-expected, Avery was no where to be seen. The blinds were shut on the windows, and his desk had evidently not been used that day, as the papers were neatly stacked where someone had left them, and were not in any particular order. The room was frigid, another sign of little activity.

He could wait, but not in this cold, so he pointed his wand at the fire, spoke the incantation, and watched as flames sprang to life. He dearly hoped that Avery would not be flooing into the office any time soon. He'd need the Potter brat's location first.

Barely a minute after starting the fire, the door to the office was roughly unlocked, and a very dishevelled Avery stumbled inside, slammed the door, and leant against it, panting as he had just run quite a distance.

Lucius smiled.

"Avery," he said, stepping forth. Avery was startled terribly, and he fell even further into the door.

"Lucius!" he exclaimed, his eyes darting round the office as though looking for an escape. "T-to what to I o-owe the pleasure?"

"You have the location of the Potter boy, do you not?" Lucius said nonchalantly.

Avery looked particularly shaken at this, and his face blanched. "Uh, I, um, well, I..."

"I haven't got all day, Avery!" Lucius stepped forward to intimidate his fellow Death Eater. It worked.

"T-the location's i-in m-my upper d-desk drawer," Avery stuttered between his pantings.

Lucius raised a bemused eyebrow. "Did you wish for someone to find it?" he asked.

Avery paled again. "No! No! I knew that you wanted it, Lucius! N-no one c-comes in here."

"You can never be so sure, Avery," Lucius remarked as he approached the desk. "Upper drawer, did you say?"

Avery nodded. He looked terrible.

Lucius pulled open the drawer and extracted the first parchment he saw. "Is this it?" He held the offending document up for Avery to see. He nodded.

"Ah, well then." He unfolded the paper and flicked his eyes across the messy black scrawl, holding back his shock to the fact that the Potter brat was in, of all places, the States. It seemed utterly ridiculous.

"I'll be going, then," he said as he folded the parchment and shoved it in his breast pocket. "Of course, I'll need you to do me a few favours first."

Avery looked sceptical, but reluctantly came forward. "Yes?"

Lucius pulled out the parchment that he had taken from his study, and dropped it onto the desk. "Fold this as you would any letter you would send by owl post, Avery." He stopped to make sure that the man was well enough to understand. Avery nodded, and Lucius continued. "And, once that is done, summon one of your own post owls and send it to the Potter brat's location."

He stopped as a thought flickered in his mind. "On second thought, I'll use one of my own. Thank you for this, Avery."

"What're you planning on doing, Lucius?" Avery asked, sounding rather angry.

"I'm playing favourites, Avery." And with that, Lucius put out the fire that was still crackling in the grate, and flooed back home.

He had been struck with an idea. It was a novel idea, to be frank. The Potter brat was the key in Voldemort's puzzle – to gain the boy and turn him in to the Dark Lord would be to gain the highest possible regard within the Death Eats, and even within the Dark Lord's own eyes. It was a position that Lucius coveted, and he would now have it within his grasp.

He folded up the mock-letter and proceeded to walk to his owlery. He would need one of the more, shall he say, appropriate ones for such a delivery. The screech owls would attract attention. Black would be such that the Death Eaters would use. Snowy was out of the question; Draco had informed Lucius of Potter's dear snowy owl. That left innocent tawny barn owls. Not the most reliable, but not the kind to attract unwanted attention, even to a trans-Atlantic delivery. It would be a long journey, but he was willing to chance it.

Now, to employ the second part of his brilliant plant – the part of the plan that would, undoubtedly, bring Potter to where he would be needed.

Lucius approached the first tawny barn owl that he could find, plucked a feather from the sleeping bird's body, and with a wave (or two) of his wand, had it set as a portkey to be activated about three hours before the expected delivery of the note. The note was simply a distraction so that the bird would deliver something, and so Wizards would not be suspicious of a bird delivering nothing. He magicked the feather back onto the bird, but made sure that he charmed it to fall off with the delivery of the letter; tied the letter to the bird's leg, and sent it flying through the open window.

Then he smiled. Only a few more days of waiting, and the brat would be his.

May 11, 1996

Lucius would be lying if he said that he wasn't the least bit pleased when the owl returned much sooner than he had ever expected. He was, quite frankly, ecstatic. The letter was gone, and the feather, once he had attempted to summon it, was gone as well. It would have activated just that morning. He wondered weather the brat would have picked it up by now, and he felt a twinge of worry that maybe he had.

He decided that he needed to have Macnair with him. The boy had evaded the Dark Lord multiple times. But then again, he had been missing from the Wizarding world for a year – anything could have happened during that lengthy duration of time. Perhaps the boy didn't even know how to utilize his magical powers anymore. The thought made Lucius extremely pleased, and he rose up from his desk, pinched a bit of floo powder from the vase on the mantle, and threw it into the fire.

Moments later, Macnair's grim office (more like a cell than an office, Lucius noted with mild disgust) swam into view. Macnair was seated at a rather corroded-looking desk, and was polishing some sort of blade. Lucius cleared his throat, and Macnair started.

"Bugger, Malfoy! What the hell d'you think you're doing?!" he shouted as he dropped the blade. An axe.

"You wanted to be informed when I came up with something to capture that Potter brat, did you not?" Lucius snarled. Macnair's mood visibly changed.

"So I did. And I'm assuming that, whatever this plan is, you wish for me to accompany you?"

"Horrid choice of words, but in essence, yes," Lucius sighed. "We'll need to leave immediately."

Macnair frowned and his eyes darted round his office. "Why? What was the plan?" he asked as he approached Malfoy's disembodied head in the fire.

Lucius groaned aloud (something he rarely ever did) and explained the owl and the portkey in as little detail as he could. Macnair was smiling wickedly when the explanation came to a celebrated end.

"Ingenious, Lucius," the executioner commented as he rose up to find some floo powder. Lucius agreed, but did not choose to comment. Rather, he left the fireplace with a small pop, and stepped back, anticipating the arrival of Macnair. It was already late afternoon, and getting darker than was usual for late spring. He desperately hoped that the brat was still asleep or not even aware of the feather's presence quite yet. And then he realised that the Potter brat may not even pick it up...

He shook his head and turned round to face the fireplace as Macnair emerged, brushing dust from his black executioner's robes.

"Where to, Lucius?"

Lucius smiled secretively and held out another object; a spell book, presumably a portkey. Macnair took two long strides and within seconds had his finger placed over the innocent-looking spell book. Lucius counted down the seconds and soon both men were hurtled forward to their new location – a desolate-looking graveyard.

Macnair landed with a loud grunt and steadied himself whilst Lucius merely brushed his robes and picked up the discarded spell book, which was lying open in the wet grass. Clouds were just beginning to leave the area, but it was evident that another storm was indeed coming back through. The area was darker than that around Malfoy Manor, and the air was thick with the stench of rain.

Lucius immediately scanned the area – the graves looking more innocent in the waning daylight than they had in the dark of the night. He suppressed a shudder that had been conjured up by the mere memories of that fateful night a year ago. Not even a year ago, but just about.

Lucius turned to Macnair, whose face had a rather puzzled, yet angry, expression. "You could have at least picked a new location. The brat will recognise this place and skitter out before we even know he's here."

Lucius remained imperturbable. "Oh? And you really think that he can hide from us, do you?" Macnair frowned, and Lucius continued. "Evidently you do, or you would have kept your mouth shut. His is a mudblood town, Macnair. No one could help him out in the least."

The executioner kept his mouth shut, but his eyes flashed dangerously. At least he didn't have the axe with him, Lucius thought dryly to himself.

"When's he supposed to get here?"

Lucius looked up at the sky. "Whenever he finds my gift. Do be patient."

"If he sees us standing here..." Macnair trailed off, evidently not in the mood to counter Lucius' better judgement of the matter.

"Yes, I suppose you're right for once. We'll have to vacate the area for now, but do keep a sharp eye out for his arrival." Lucius started to talk in the direction of the town, but Macnair grabbed the man's arm and grey eyes met beady black.

"And how, Lucius, do you know that he is not here already?" Macnair hissed in a low whisper.

Lucius violently wrenched his arm free of the executioner's grasp, and stepped closer, a sneer playing across his features. One that he was only too accustomed to wearing. "Because, Macnair," he paused and glared at the men for emphasis. "There is no sign of him."

Macnair only became angrier at this. "You don't know. We could end up standing out here for a bloody week!"

"And do you, as the smart and highly esteemed Death Eater that you are, have a better idea?"

"In fact, Malfoy, I do. We look for the little shit," he continued in his ominous whisper.

"You do that. I'm getting a drink," Lucius stated blandly, and he exited the graveyard without so much as glancing backward at the executioner, who has muttering inaudible phrases under his breath.

An hour passed. Two hours. It was getting on seven, and no sign of the brat had even appeared as of yet. Lucius was angry, to put it lightly. Macnair was beyond fury, and had taken to trashing as many of the muggle residences as possible; breaking windows, turning over bins...The man had anger management problems that would easily make Severus Snape appear an angel.

Worst of all, the muggles were noticing, and an angry woman had stormed into the tavern where Lucius had just been leaving, and raved and ranted until the windows shook. Macnair was about to hex her, when Lucius (against his better judgement, of course) stopped him. No need to cause any unwanted magical signatures; he had explained in as violent a way as possible.

Macnair quieted, and decided to go and check the graveyard.

Lucius stood outside of the disgusting muggle tavern and noted the lack of...anyone...at such a relatively early hour. The tavern had nearly emptied, but most people were now too afraid to go anywhere, what with some maniac loose and all. He smiled wryly at the thought, and directed his attention up the road. Macnair was returning, though his walk was much brisker than usual. Lucius walked forward to meet him.

"What?" he inquired without preamble.

Macnair smiled cryptically, his face illuminated in the flickering firelight of the tavern's only grate, which was shining through the window. Damn the executioner and his need to be overdramatic, Lucius thought to himself.

"He's here," Macnair said in an excited whisper. Lucius' heart jumped, and he didn't like the feeling of it.

"And that's not all, Lucius," continued the executioner. Lucius said nothing. "He's hurt. I saw him limping round the graves. I think he's planning on coming into town."

"Do you?" was all Lucius could say. "Well, let us greet him when he does, then."

To show his apparent frustration, Macnair sent a curse at a fairly nice-looking muggle home. Windows broke, and the flustered exclamations of the couple living inside could be heard.

"Stop!" Lucius shouted, pushing Macnair into the wall of the tavern. "Do you want to be seen? Do you want to alarm the Ministry? Damn it, Macnair! Think for a moment! It's not that hard to do, really!" And with that, he walked back into the deplorable muggle tavern and waited for his quarry to find his way to him.

Macnair followed, though reluctantly.

Another ten minutes passed, and the shouts of a muggle woman could be heard as she slammed the door to her home. Lucius couldn't help but smile. The woman had apparently just discovered whatever Macnair had done, the poor lamb. Hopefully nothing too valuable had been utterly destroyed. And then, he noted with some deadened amusement, that the woman had been the one yelling in the tavern earlier that evening. Macnair seemed to favour torturing her. Clearly, the woman was excitable.

Macnair, in his apparent frustration, dragged Lucius from the warmth of the tavern and into a cloudy and unusually dark evening. He began to yell. Lucius stopped paying attention. The yelling was obviously about going to get the Potter brat, perhaps something about his unquenchable urge to hex muggles (something which Lucius shared, but could control to a certain extent); perhaps about his finally coming to terms with his hideous moustache – whatever the reason behind the maddening frenzy of shouts, Lucius didn't care in the least. After a while of being yelled at, he decided he'd had enough, and shoved Macnair away.

In a raised voice, he said, "Good God! Control, Macnair. No wonder the Dark Lord puts you under the Cruciatus so damned much. We shall go get the brat, if that is what you so wish. And I thought that I was the one desiring the boy's company."

Macnair shorted indignantly, but followed Lucius as the man wandered back to the graveyard. He drew out his wand as he neared the gate, and apparated inside, so the hinges would not squeak. Macnair followed this action, but fell back in the shadows of a looming yew tree, whilst Malfoy kept onward.

Behind that very grave marked Tom Marvolo Riddle, was just the ticket to becoming Lord Voldemort's right hand man – a little less literal, but so much more rewarding, that Wormtail's sacrifice.

Lucius held his breath for a moment, but after he caught sight of the frightened boy sinking into the shadows, he couldn't help but smiled, and laugh.

He drew his wand and stepped out from behind the grave.

"Welcome home, Harry Potter." The phrase seemed overdone for some odd reason, but it was also oddly fitting. The boy was home, after all.

The boy gasped and began to back away, but Lucius was the Wizard with the wand, not the brave and wonderful Harry Potter who looked near to fainting at the moment.

"Stupefy!" Lucius shouted, and the boy slumped back into another tombstone just as rain began to fall.

That seemed oddly fitting as well.

A/N: Mwa-haaaaaaahahaha....snort. I got this one out a loooooot faster than I originally expected to.

Lady FoxFire: Unfortunately, as you must obviously know, it wasn't Snape. Poooor Harrykins.

Aeryn Alexander: Thanks much! In chapter 8, I vaguely mention Harry falling asleep and reawakening a while later. He slept a great deal past 5 AM. For the heck of it, we'll say he slept until 10ish. Not quite sure at the moment. I have to do my maths, which I HATE so I don't want to...

Starlette: Thanks a lot! So glad that you're linking it. As for the letter, it was sort of explained in this chapter, but basically, Lucius needed a reason for the owl to even bother delivering, so he gave him a "letter"...Tricky, tricky. Thanks again!

Alynna Lis Eachann: Yeah, Harry was with the Lestranges. Lucius' kidnapping was totally out of their – and Voldemort's – plan. Of course, now that Harry is away from the Lestranges, some not-so-great stuff is going to happen to him. He's left a house covered in spells and wards, all designed for a certain purpose, one which Lucius does not know about, and could not know about, because no one knows about it except for the Lestranges and Voldemort...Okay, I've spoken too much *clamps hand over mouth and backs away slooowly*

Rhiain: Thank you!! Oh cliffies...I love cliffies when I'm the one writing them. Heh.

Amy Potter 13: Don't worry! I'm speeeeeeding along so that no one gets a heart attack! I'm even putting off an English assignment for this one! Naughty me...Eh, oh well. Ever so happy that you're liking it!

The Kuro no Tenshi: Why yes, I am ;) Heh heh heh.