AN: Written for Round 9 of QFL
Wordcount: 3014
Prompt: Oh, that's such bad luck; giving a clock as a gift.
Optional Prompts:
(Object) Door
(Setting) Malfoy Manor
(Weather) Thunderstorm
Inevitable
A year ago, Lucius Malfoy had been exactly where he was supposed to be: second in command to the most powerful dark wizard the world had ever known. He'd had it all; wealth, power, and underlings who feared him.
For the past six months, however, Lucius had been reduced to roaming the halls of the manor, counting the days until his house arrest was over. His wand had been heavily restricted, leaving only the basic spells. He was prohibited from leaving the manor. The only contact he had with the outside world was the monthly check-ins from the ministry and the house-elf who came once a week to clean and provide any necessities.
Today was his final day; in moments, he would receive the paperwork from the Ministry which would release him. Thanks to the stupidity of that brat Harry Potter, he'd managed to escape Azkaban. The past six months had been infuriating, but it was all worth it to have freedom within his grasp.
The Dark Lord may be vanquished, he thought, but his vision remains, and I shall see it through.
Lucius jerked to attention as the Ministry owl came through the window, carrying not only his letter but also a large brown box. After sending the bird off, Lucius moved to his study and placed the box on his desk, focusing first on the letter.
Once he was satisfied with the document, he sealed it in his desk and turned to the nondescript box. Unwilling to take any chances, he cast a series of complex security spells but they didn't detect anything dangerous. Still, Lucius was cautious as he lifted the lid, prepared for anything.
The spells didn't detect anything dangerous, but Lucius was still cautious as he lifted the lid, prepared for anything.
Or so he thought.
Yellow glowing eyes.
Eyes he hadn't seen since the battle of Hogwarts.
Nagini!
Seized with terror, he threw a curse and ran to shield himself in a corner.
When Nagini didn't attack, Lucius inched towards her.
Surely, he hadn't killed her that easily?
As Lucius peeked into the box, it took all of his restraint not to scream.
When he realized the truth, he was infuriated with himself and mortified beyond measure.
It was nothing but an ornamental snake.
Admittedly, it was an extremely lifelike replica. The peridot scales were the exact same shade of green, the topaz eyes with onyx pupils, and even the onyx diamond patterns on its back looked exactly the same as he remembered.
The scales and eyes glistened in the glow of the fire. It was both mesmerizing and unnerving how the snake almost seemed to move, as though it were slithering in place, following him with its eyes.
Lucius removed the snake from the box. How could it be so heavy? He set it on his desk and took a step back to get a better look. As he took in the sight, his breath caught in his throat at the beauty before him.
It was a wall clock, set in an enormous gold slab, which had an intricate design of silver thorns and ruby-red roses weaving through it. The snake appeared to be coiled around the large piece, resting its head just above the face of the clock.
Lucius looked in the box once more for good measure, curious as to who would have sent him such a thing. At the bottom of the box, there was a piece of parchment he would have sworn wasn't there before.
From your friends at the Ministry, to commemorate your release.
For several moments, Lucius turned the parchment over in his hands. "Friends at the Ministry". Did that mean The Dark Lord still had followers hidden in plain sight? Followers who were looking to him to lead?
It was certainly possible; surely no one else would have sent him such a gift.
Grinning to himself, Lucius began to magically position the clock on the wall across from his desk, stopping when he noticed something unusual about the clock: it wasn't ticking.
Sneering, Lucius started to remove the clock, not wanting to display the useless thing. He hesitated, however, as he looked at the snake. He couldn't deny that there was something mesmerizing about it. Broken or not, it's still impressive, he thought as he fixed the clock in position and moved to his desk to better admire it. I can always say it's an antique. What harm could it do?
Exactly one month after he received the clock, Lucius found himself in his study a few minutes before midnight.
As he headed for his desk, Lucius came to a halt, realizing something was wrong. Slowly, he turned and approached the wall, unsure if his imagination was playing tricks on him.
The clock was ticking.
Not only that, the hands were pointed at the correct numbers.
As the clock chimed the hour, an ominous feeling crept over Lucius.
Why was it suddenly working?
Suddenly, a crack appeared in the clock.
Lucius jumped back involuntarily as a piece of parchment fell from the crack.
The world around him seemed to slow.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
He fired a curse, which promptly rebounded, striking his bookshelf and blasting it to pieces.
Pain lanced across his skull, and he blacked out.
When he awakened, a thunderstorm was raging outside. The wind was howling against the windows, and lightning crackled across the sky.
Shaking, Lucius rose from the floor and eyed the clock nervously. However, it was once again still, and the crack was gone. Hesitantly, he retrieved the parchment from the floor.
Cat got your tongue?
Lucius scoffed in frustration.
All of that for some ridiculous prank?
Shaking his head, Lucius tossed the note in the rubbish bin before setting his office to rights and attempting to remove the infernal clock.
He pried at it with his hands.
He cast spell after spell.
He threw curses at it.
In desperation, he even beat it with his cane.
It would not budge.
Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he apparated to the ministry and stormed up to the secretary, intent on demanding to see the Minister.
"Spossm velongs sellus menten nundit!"
Lucius froze as the receptionist looked at him with a mystified expression. "I'm sorry, can I help you Mr. Malfoy?" she said.
"Enchicion callmenthip sprify prestiment clivatio!" he shouted.
As quickly as he could without running, Lucius made his way towards the exit, nearly trampling over the brat Potter himself in his desperate attempt to escape.
Before thinking, Lucius shouted, "FIBBLE THAGED SHADRATUDE!"
He continued forward as Potter roared with laughter, yelling after him, "Nice seeing you too Lucius! I'll tell Draco you said hello!" Lucius clenched his teeth to prevent himself from responding, apparating home as soon as he was outside of the Ministry.
Upon entering his office, Lucius went straight for the rubbish bin and picked up the discarded note. 'Cat got your tongue?' Utter nonsense. I don't have a cat, and why would I allow a cat to touch my tongue... or any filthy animal for that matter?
Enraged, Lucius tossed the parchment into the fireplace.
He stood in front of the clock, staring at it bitterly. Someone had tricked him, and was using the infernal thing to make a fool out of him.
As he gazed at the clock, he noticed something he hadn't before: the twelve was missing! Had it been that way before and he just hadn't noticed it? But Lucius dismissed that thought; he would have noticed an imperfection like that right away. Why then, had it vanished?
Preoccupied as he was with the curse, Lucius put the number out of his mind. After a week of no change, Lucius gave in and went to Saint Mungos, only to be told that the curse, aptly called the Babbling curse, could only be removed by the caster.
This was also the day he realized that his home had been placed under a weather curse. He hadn't thought about it until he'd arrived in Diagon Alley to find the weather sunny and clear, where his home was under a constant downpour.
Wonderful, he'd thought to himself, what else could go wrong?
Three weeks later, he got his answer.
Last time, he'd been away from the Manor throughout the day, so he hadn't heard the clock ticking until he'd returned that night.
Now, he was in his study and flinched when the silence was interrupted so suddenly. Lucius remained in his study throughout the day, watching for anything suspicious.
Hours later, Lucius was calm and determined as the clock began to chime, and watched without reacting as the crack opened and the parchment dropped out.
Once the clock was still, he approached. The first thing he noticed was that once again, a number was missing: eleven. Lucius bent to pick up the note, frowning as he read.
This next curse was brought to you in part by duct tape!
Finding you can't keep anything to yourself?
Never know when to keep your mouth shut?
Then use duct tape!
After all, silence is gold, but duct tape is silver.
Consider this next spell magical duct tape.
"What in the name of Salazar is Duck-Tape?!" Lucius yelled. "What is this madman trying to pull?! How is silence gold?! I mean-" He stopped yelling with a gasp.
"The babbling curse wore off!" Relief swept over him, causing him to completely forget the note. It didn't matter. He was going straight to the Ministry first thing in the morning, and this mess would be over.
Lucius was furious as he entered the manor. Everything had been going fine, but every time he tried to tell someone about the curses or clock, he'd started spouting nonsense again!
He stormed to his office and inspected the most recent note. "Know when to keep your mouth shut… can't keep anything to yourself…" he mumbled.
Realization struck him.
"Someone gave me a gift. It was a zwinny mooglehorn."
They gave me back my speech, but I can't mention the clock or curses. Now, instead of the babbling curse, it's the tongue-tie curse. Marvellous.
Over the next few days, Lucius tried to work around the curse, but it caught him every time. After a few days, he gave in. People were already suspicious of him after the incidents at the Ministry. He couldn't afford to attract too much notice.
The only thing to be done for now, was wait.
The next card arrived right on schedule.
Have you ever heard of Hell?
There are many versions, across many cultures.
But, in many of them, a person like you would need tolerance to heat.
What do you say we work on that now?
As Lucius gripped his wand, he suddenly felt as though he had touched an open flame. Dropping the wand, he inspected his hand. There was no blistering or redness, but it still felt as though he'd been badly burned.
The words echoed in his head. "Tolerance to heat."
Every time I touch it, it will feel as though my hand is submerged in lava.
The flagrante curse...
Fear crept into his spine. Until now, he'd thought of this mystery person as an annoyance; a prankster who would reveal themselves. Clearly, there was something far more sinister at play.
The next four weeks were pure torment.
One day, something would burn him, and the next it wouldn't. It was as though someone was following him, making sure nothing was ever completely safe to touch.
Whoever this person was, they no longer intended to allow him use of his wand or freedom from his house. Once again, he was confined.
The midnight of the fourth month arrived with grim resignation, as did the note.
I would suggest investing in Nyquil.
Lucius didn't even try to decipher this note. The meaning would be revealed by the morning, and he didn't have the faintest clue as to what Nyquil could possibly be.
He woke in the morning gasping for air. His nose was completely blocked, and he felt as though an elephant was sitting on his chest. His entire body hurt.
Great… all of this and now I'm sick, he thought petulantly before pulling the covers over his head. He fell asleep almost immediately, hoping he would feel better when he woke.
He didn't.
Days, then weeks passed, and he didn't get any better.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that it was a bogey curse, but he didn't have the energy to care.
It was the day after the fifth month that he finally got some answers. Lucius woke up that morning feeling good as new, as though he had never been cursed.
If the bogey curse had worn off after a month, then maybe the flagrante…? Carefully, he touched his wand, screaming in agony as the phantom flames swept over his hand.
What were they playing at?!
Realizing he had slept through the dreaded midnight, Lucius made his way to his office, dismayed to see another note on the floor.
The eyes are useless when the mind is blind.
When Lucius lifted his eyes to the clock, his eyes swelled shut, overwhelming him with stinging pain, watering, and itching in his eyes; The conjunctivitis curse.
Each day over the next month was more miserable than the last. He could hardly make his way around the manor. Eating became more difficult than ever, as although food was mysteriously still being delivered to the Manor, he was hard-pressed to find any of it. Dressing and bathing were nearly impossible as well, and he discovered that although the bogey curse had worn off, he still had days where the stuffy feeling would return, adding to his misery.
Lucius was almost relieved when the next note arrived. Though he dreaded the next message, his vision cleared instantly.
Every word out of your mouth is dripping with filth.
Would you like to see what that looks like?
For the following month, he vomited slugs every few minutes. This, combined with the random bouts of blindness and blocked airways, drove him to despair. Every moment lasted an eternity.
Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down your hair.
On second thought, I think I'll just take it.
You don't deserve that kind of beauty.
Don't worry though, hair grows back… over time.
His hair… a source of pride he would never have admitted to… It was gone. "Over time"... they were mocking him now.
My favourite movie is a modern take on beauty and the beast.
It always gets me when the witch transforms Kyle.
She tells him, "As aggressively unattractive outside as you are inside."
I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about, but it made me wonder:
what does your reflection show now?
This was the one that broke him. Bald, sunken skin, and red eyes… and now his entire body was covered with enormous red boils. Even when the curse faded… his body was permanently damaged. He curled into himself and sobbed.
You've spent your life clinging to your twisted ideals and delusion of grandeur. What happens when you can't cling at all?
It felt as though all his bones were melting away
The jelly fingers curse… a childish prank, now being used to torture him further.
They that crouch to those above them, always trample on those below.
Now, you shall do neither.
He fell to the ground.
He'd practically lived in his office since this all began.
And this is where he remained for the next month, doomed to look at the clock.
He should have died, withered away to nothing, yet for reasons he could not fathom, he did not.
Somehow, he knew, this person was keeping him alive.
He was both desperate for the next note and petrified of it.
He found himself constantly mesmerized by the eyes of the snake, watching as it judged him, preparing to punish him further.
I've heard it said that statues of humans are actually victims of Medusa.
That got me thinking, how would she feel about this spell?
This should have been the worst torture yet.
Instead, it was a sweet relief.
He had long ago lost grip on his sanity.
As a statue, he had no further pain, and he had time to think.
He realized several things as the days passed.
The numbers had disappeared each month, starting with twelve.
Only the one remained.
Each curse was worse than the last.
Only one thing was worse than death.
He knew what would happen at the end of the month.
It was inevitable.
He was doomed from the moment he placed the clock on his wall.
All he had to do now was wait.
Three, two, one… and the clock began to chime.
His body was released from its prison.
Lucius watched in horror, too weak to move, as the snake began to shift.
The roses turned from ruby-red to pitch black.
The snake uncoiled from the clock and slithered towards him.
Stopping in front of him, it opened its mouth and began to speak.
"And so we come to the end of our game, Lucius."
That voice…
"Do you know what the roses mean? I was assured you would. Black roses symbolize revenge and hatred."
He knew that voice…
"Have you heard of Transmorgrification? It's a curse that causes the victim to die in the way they fear most."
Lucius jerked his eyes upwards. The snake… Nagini…
"No…" he croaked. "Not you… it can't be you… why?"
The snake seemed to grin in response. "Haven't I told you already, Lucius? Revenge for others, and hatred for what you did to them. Azkaban wasn't punishment enough. "
Of course…
My trial…
My release…
The laughter…
From the first moment...
Inevitable.
"Goodbye, Lucius. It's been fun."
Harry Potter.
Lucius closed his eyes, and the snake swallowed him whole.