Journeys
The carriage bumped up and down along the dirt track. The wooden wheels jerked uncomfortably and the sound of the creaking suspension met with Lucius Malfoy's ears. The coach was unashamedly old-fashioned but so was its owner. He refused to use modern transport methods just as he refused to compromise his beliefs.
Apparition would have been tricky, he had a valuable cargo after all. He slid his gray eyes down the leather-padded sides, worn with his use, over the pale figure of Rowan Lennox.
Her nightshade hair was splayed out behind her head across the soft seat opposite Lucius. Her eyes were shut tightly, their dark eyelashes folded below the lids. The bridge of her nose elegantly cast a shadow over her right cheek, which glowed with the moon's light outside.
His eyes rested on her, his mind wandered away, into distant memories he longed to capture again. The profile of the girl was not so unfamiliar as he might let on. Lucius had seen it before, the girl's mother held the same charms and yet, there was something different behind those closed lids.
Rowan had her father's mind. Indeed her upbringing differed dramatically from her mother's. Rowan had been bred for a life in the dark arts. Since she had been born the Deatheater's values had been pumped into her. Her father had got what he wanted; a child twisted into the shape he desired that would worship the same ideals and serve in the same noble cause as him.
Her father had been a close servant of Voldemort, of an equal level to that of Lucius. So close that he had insisted Voldemort attend Rowan's naming ceremony. Lucius had heard that the event had been less like a Christening and more like a drawn out initiation to the Deatheater circle.
Looking freshly at the girl, it was difficult to tell her real nature, though he supposed that was why she was so suited to Voldemort's latest plan. Her "innocence" was well constructed and he had heard Potter liked dark haired girls.
Lucius snorted conceitedly before slapping his hand dully to his forehead.
"Potter." He muttered. "At Hogwarts." He swore loudly, cursing himself for not thinking about it before. He looked hopelessly around for an owl but it was no good, Draco would have to wait until his father reached the Manor for news of his girlfriend.
Rowan's cheek took on a pinkish tone as the first light of day filled the carriage. The shadows floating on the walls were stretched somewhat painfully, curving over the quilted leather. Lucius pushed his hand into his cloak, recoiling slightly at the cold. He drew a weighty pocket watch from his waistcoat, feeling the chain clash with the smooth fabric.
The solid silver instrument had a similar flavour to that of his staff, set with emeralds and boasting a flowing engraving of entwined serpents. Her nimbly flicked open the front with a slight click. The sweeping hands pointed to the certain Roman numerals. It was quarter to seven.
Within minutes the vast turrets of his manor became visible. It sat proudly in the countryside surrounded by a mixture of evergreen and skeletal trees. As the carriage wheels crunched juicily into the gravel, Lucius cast his eyes in the direction of his bedroom window.
The heavy drapes hung down and Lucius knew full well that his wife was still cradled in sleep's embrace. The light scurrying sound of incompetent servants became apparent, he instructed them swiftly, clearing his path towards the grand entrance.
Without a second thought he scooped up the placid body and climbed down. His taught black shoes scuffed, coating themselves in the dust. For once, he did not care, simply continuing his journey deeper into the manor.
A/N: Nxt up, find out exactly what Mr. Malfoy is up to, that is, if u review..:)
The carriage bumped up and down along the dirt track. The wooden wheels jerked uncomfortably and the sound of the creaking suspension met with Lucius Malfoy's ears. The coach was unashamedly old-fashioned but so was its owner. He refused to use modern transport methods just as he refused to compromise his beliefs.
Apparition would have been tricky, he had a valuable cargo after all. He slid his gray eyes down the leather-padded sides, worn with his use, over the pale figure of Rowan Lennox.
Her nightshade hair was splayed out behind her head across the soft seat opposite Lucius. Her eyes were shut tightly, their dark eyelashes folded below the lids. The bridge of her nose elegantly cast a shadow over her right cheek, which glowed with the moon's light outside.
His eyes rested on her, his mind wandered away, into distant memories he longed to capture again. The profile of the girl was not so unfamiliar as he might let on. Lucius had seen it before, the girl's mother held the same charms and yet, there was something different behind those closed lids.
Rowan had her father's mind. Indeed her upbringing differed dramatically from her mother's. Rowan had been bred for a life in the dark arts. Since she had been born the Deatheater's values had been pumped into her. Her father had got what he wanted; a child twisted into the shape he desired that would worship the same ideals and serve in the same noble cause as him.
Her father had been a close servant of Voldemort, of an equal level to that of Lucius. So close that he had insisted Voldemort attend Rowan's naming ceremony. Lucius had heard that the event had been less like a Christening and more like a drawn out initiation to the Deatheater circle.
Looking freshly at the girl, it was difficult to tell her real nature, though he supposed that was why she was so suited to Voldemort's latest plan. Her "innocence" was well constructed and he had heard Potter liked dark haired girls.
Lucius snorted conceitedly before slapping his hand dully to his forehead.
"Potter." He muttered. "At Hogwarts." He swore loudly, cursing himself for not thinking about it before. He looked hopelessly around for an owl but it was no good, Draco would have to wait until his father reached the Manor for news of his girlfriend.
Rowan's cheek took on a pinkish tone as the first light of day filled the carriage. The shadows floating on the walls were stretched somewhat painfully, curving over the quilted leather. Lucius pushed his hand into his cloak, recoiling slightly at the cold. He drew a weighty pocket watch from his waistcoat, feeling the chain clash with the smooth fabric.
The solid silver instrument had a similar flavour to that of his staff, set with emeralds and boasting a flowing engraving of entwined serpents. Her nimbly flicked open the front with a slight click. The sweeping hands pointed to the certain Roman numerals. It was quarter to seven.
Within minutes the vast turrets of his manor became visible. It sat proudly in the countryside surrounded by a mixture of evergreen and skeletal trees. As the carriage wheels crunched juicily into the gravel, Lucius cast his eyes in the direction of his bedroom window.
The heavy drapes hung down and Lucius knew full well that his wife was still cradled in sleep's embrace. The light scurrying sound of incompetent servants became apparent, he instructed them swiftly, clearing his path towards the grand entrance.
Without a second thought he scooped up the placid body and climbed down. His taught black shoes scuffed, coating themselves in the dust. For once, he did not care, simply continuing his journey deeper into the manor.
A/N: Nxt up, find out exactly what Mr. Malfoy is up to, that is, if u review..:)