Fickle Friend
Realisation resounded around the darkened room. The rain still fell in big gloopy droplets, splashing soundlessly onto the ground. Their wetness seeping through the wood turning the boards a sickly yellow.
The words floated through the air and sneaked into her ear.
At once Rowan felt her throat tickle, aching for fresh air. But only the choking staleness of her master could be found. Her limbs were helplessly slack under the nameless curse. Her body knew before the mind could react. Any chance of fleeing, of escaping this death trap had already passed. What would her father say if he could see her now?
Suddenly, as if she had already admitted defeat, her head lolled backwards. Her eyes shut and Rowan felt the uncomfortable heat of blood rushing through her tense body. She was a bundle of contradictions.
The figure took a examining glance around that infamous room. Its stark plainness, the overwhelming drabbiness, it was not fit for a slave, let alone a Dark Lord.
He saw his master stooped imposingly over something. He also felt that same clench, as Voldemort's smell struck him. He drew his head back involuntarily, noticing for the first time quite what the lord was next to.
The flowing folds of a cloak, stuck together with rain, were visible. Hanging out from underneath, a pair of leather shoes with limp legs attached. Moving his inquisitive eyes upwards, he saw the recognisable pleats of a Hogwarts' skirt, the white cotton of a shirt, transparent with that blasted rain and if he was right, the green and silver colours of Slytherin house.
A chill trickled it way down his spine like the water droplets clinging to the windows.
"Ah, Lucius." The voice came from his master. "Nice of you to join us."
Lucius Malfoy raised his eyebrows slightly, not quite sure what to make of the situation. "You, er, called my Lord." He answered stiffly. An illicit image had stealthily crept into his mind, distracting him. His eyes were still resting on the figure.
Voldemort let out a low chuckle. The air seemed to flinch at the noise. "You wonder, Lucius, what is going on?" Indeed, the Lord had seen the image floating in his servant's head. "You think wrong. No foul play has taken place tonight." He raised the right corner of his mouth into a half smile.
Lucius raised his head a fraction, still confused. Voldemort motioned for him to ask the question burning on his lips.
"Then why..?" Lucius pointed at the lifeless schoolchild, his face frowning.
Voldemorts face relaxed eerily. "Just Lennox." He replied casually, testing the servant's answer.
"Rowan?" He spluttered indignantly, giving himself away. "But, but why kill..?" His face had transformed into a picture of disbelief. His mind was filling with fluid. He seemed to be drowning in his own theories. He felt himself cough, trying hopelessly to rid himself of the fog collected in his eyes. What had Voldemort done?
That wry smile danced on the Lord's mouth. How he enjoyed seeing the Malfoy squirm under his own imagination. "Rowan, now?" He mocked joyfully. "My, my, we have become attached."
Lucius felt his forehead furrow. He did not like this. An idea nagged at the back of his consciousness. What if Voldemort turned on him? I mean, he's killed the girl who was getting Potter, he thought quickly, why shouldn't I be next.
The Lord, who was heartily enjoying see his thoughts unfold, put him out of his anguish. "I'm not about to kill you, Lucius. Calm down."
For a moment he sounded sane, Lucius thought wearily.
"In fact," He continued. "I haven't killed anyone... tonight." He added as an afterthought, seeing the sour face opposite him. "No, Lennox here has just had a little," He twirled his wand in his spindly fingers. "Something, applied to her. Just to teach her a lesson."
The anxiety level dipped slightly, but Lucius was still uncertain. "Lesson, master?"
"Yes. She thought it clever to go against me." Voldemort waited again for his reaction.
"Oh," He said, tucking a strand of hair behind his upturned ear. Voldemort felt Lucius' confidence levels returning. "Why on Earth would she want to do that?"
Voldemort shrugged sweetly. Their smug expressions locked together in a cesspool of malice. On his own Lucius Malfoy was nothing, but when he had his master's support, past ties did not matter. He would stand and watch his own mother's face contort with the back-bending pain he inflicted, if his master willed it.
He thought he was an individual. But Voldemort could see that Lucius Malfoy was one of the most addicted crowd followers of them all.
"My Lord?" He asked again, trying to snap Voldemort out of his daze.
"Yes, Lennox had a meeting with Potter this evening." He reached down and smoothed her hair, letting each of the dark strands slip between his pale fingers. He peered into her blank face. "The Corparius curse." He whispered tenderly. "So very very useful."
Lucius shifted up and down eagerly on the balls of his feet. The damp floorboards creaked rhythmically. He raised his eyebrows wanting more information. "Well?" He asked, the tip of his tongue meeting the corner of his mouth expectantly.
"She spun him some story, about you in fact." He looked up at Lucius, then slid his eyes over the girl. "It seems you like your Malfoys, red one."
Lucius could not help the feeling of satisfaction seeping through him. He knew he had got her all those nights ago. Although his master's fickle behaviour concerned him more than he would care to let on.
A/N: Review and I'll be very happy. :)
Realisation resounded around the darkened room. The rain still fell in big gloopy droplets, splashing soundlessly onto the ground. Their wetness seeping through the wood turning the boards a sickly yellow.
The words floated through the air and sneaked into her ear.
At once Rowan felt her throat tickle, aching for fresh air. But only the choking staleness of her master could be found. Her limbs were helplessly slack under the nameless curse. Her body knew before the mind could react. Any chance of fleeing, of escaping this death trap had already passed. What would her father say if he could see her now?
Suddenly, as if she had already admitted defeat, her head lolled backwards. Her eyes shut and Rowan felt the uncomfortable heat of blood rushing through her tense body. She was a bundle of contradictions.
The figure took a examining glance around that infamous room. Its stark plainness, the overwhelming drabbiness, it was not fit for a slave, let alone a Dark Lord.
He saw his master stooped imposingly over something. He also felt that same clench, as Voldemort's smell struck him. He drew his head back involuntarily, noticing for the first time quite what the lord was next to.
The flowing folds of a cloak, stuck together with rain, were visible. Hanging out from underneath, a pair of leather shoes with limp legs attached. Moving his inquisitive eyes upwards, he saw the recognisable pleats of a Hogwarts' skirt, the white cotton of a shirt, transparent with that blasted rain and if he was right, the green and silver colours of Slytherin house.
A chill trickled it way down his spine like the water droplets clinging to the windows.
"Ah, Lucius." The voice came from his master. "Nice of you to join us."
Lucius Malfoy raised his eyebrows slightly, not quite sure what to make of the situation. "You, er, called my Lord." He answered stiffly. An illicit image had stealthily crept into his mind, distracting him. His eyes were still resting on the figure.
Voldemort let out a low chuckle. The air seemed to flinch at the noise. "You wonder, Lucius, what is going on?" Indeed, the Lord had seen the image floating in his servant's head. "You think wrong. No foul play has taken place tonight." He raised the right corner of his mouth into a half smile.
Lucius raised his head a fraction, still confused. Voldemort motioned for him to ask the question burning on his lips.
"Then why..?" Lucius pointed at the lifeless schoolchild, his face frowning.
Voldemorts face relaxed eerily. "Just Lennox." He replied casually, testing the servant's answer.
"Rowan?" He spluttered indignantly, giving himself away. "But, but why kill..?" His face had transformed into a picture of disbelief. His mind was filling with fluid. He seemed to be drowning in his own theories. He felt himself cough, trying hopelessly to rid himself of the fog collected in his eyes. What had Voldemort done?
That wry smile danced on the Lord's mouth. How he enjoyed seeing the Malfoy squirm under his own imagination. "Rowan, now?" He mocked joyfully. "My, my, we have become attached."
Lucius felt his forehead furrow. He did not like this. An idea nagged at the back of his consciousness. What if Voldemort turned on him? I mean, he's killed the girl who was getting Potter, he thought quickly, why shouldn't I be next.
The Lord, who was heartily enjoying see his thoughts unfold, put him out of his anguish. "I'm not about to kill you, Lucius. Calm down."
For a moment he sounded sane, Lucius thought wearily.
"In fact," He continued. "I haven't killed anyone... tonight." He added as an afterthought, seeing the sour face opposite him. "No, Lennox here has just had a little," He twirled his wand in his spindly fingers. "Something, applied to her. Just to teach her a lesson."
The anxiety level dipped slightly, but Lucius was still uncertain. "Lesson, master?"
"Yes. She thought it clever to go against me." Voldemort waited again for his reaction.
"Oh," He said, tucking a strand of hair behind his upturned ear. Voldemort felt Lucius' confidence levels returning. "Why on Earth would she want to do that?"
Voldemort shrugged sweetly. Their smug expressions locked together in a cesspool of malice. On his own Lucius Malfoy was nothing, but when he had his master's support, past ties did not matter. He would stand and watch his own mother's face contort with the back-bending pain he inflicted, if his master willed it.
He thought he was an individual. But Voldemort could see that Lucius Malfoy was one of the most addicted crowd followers of them all.
"My Lord?" He asked again, trying to snap Voldemort out of his daze.
"Yes, Lennox had a meeting with Potter this evening." He reached down and smoothed her hair, letting each of the dark strands slip between his pale fingers. He peered into her blank face. "The Corparius curse." He whispered tenderly. "So very very useful."
Lucius shifted up and down eagerly on the balls of his feet. The damp floorboards creaked rhythmically. He raised his eyebrows wanting more information. "Well?" He asked, the tip of his tongue meeting the corner of his mouth expectantly.
"She spun him some story, about you in fact." He looked up at Lucius, then slid his eyes over the girl. "It seems you like your Malfoys, red one."
Lucius could not help the feeling of satisfaction seeping through him. He knew he had got her all those nights ago. Although his master's fickle behaviour concerned him more than he would care to let on.
A/N: Review and I'll be very happy. :)