Author's Note: And now for something completely different . . . (I'm sorry
-- I just have to keep you all waiting a little longer)
Chapter Nine -- The Rise of the Storm
Lucius Malfoy sat before the assembly, looking down upon the menage of Death Eaters. It was the seat that Lord Voldemort used to occupy . . . But no more. Lucius smiled to himself. It was the end of an era. With Voldemort kept at Hogwarts, the Death Eaters were without leadership.
"Fellow Death Eaters!" Lucius called out into the crowd. Any whispering automatically stopped and a slew of masked faces turned to look at Lucius. "Fellow Death Eaters, we stand here today without a leader in our midst. We stand here today with no guidance, no organization, no central power." Lucius' lips curled up slightly. "This could all change, my friends."
"But what about Lord Voldemort?" A sharp little squeal came from the back of the assembly. Lucius turned to glare at the source. Yes, Peter Pettigrew -- Nervously edging his feet back and forth across the cold stone floor.
"Lord Voldemort can practically be considered one of them now," Lucius said, making his voice overly mournful at the thought. With that, everyone began talking.
"Couldn't be true! I've worked in the Dark Lord's service for years and . . ."
"Why would he leave the Dark Arts? He's just beginning to rise in power again . . ."
"Aware that he was bound to that young Potter boy but . . ."
"Doesn't that put him in the ideal position to gain inside information?"
"Enough!" Lucius shouted and the entire crowd fell silent. Lucius relished for a moment in his newfound power. "Lord Voldemort is nothing more than a common traitor. I have received news from various sources inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Lord Voldemort or Tom Riddle as he now calls himself is assisting Albus Dumbledore with certain projects -- Projects concerning the Circles of Aralise."
"The Circles of Aralise!" cried a Death Eater. "But those are simply a legend!"
"Not quite," Lucius said, tapping his fingers on the oaken arms of the chair -- Just like Lord Voldemort used to do when he was thinking. "If Tom Riddle and that fool Albus Dumbledore can somehow find a way to open the Circles of Aralise, our extermination with be inevitable."
A collective shudder went through the Death Eaters.
"What can we do to stop this?" Lucius asked, never expecting an answer. He rose from his seat, his voice becoming shrill and strained. "We need to choose a new leader -- Someone with the incentive to lead us to victory, someone with the determination to triumph over the opposing forces, someone with the power to rule over all!"
No more needed to be said. Avery fell onto his left knee, head bowed in reverence and respect.
"I pledge my loyalties to the Lord Malfoy," he said somberly. Lucius tried not to smile with mirth. Crabbe and Goyle followed devotedly, then Mulciber, Nott, and Pettigrew. One by one, the Death Eaters fell to their knees, pledging their loyalty to Lucius Malfoy. Eventually, only one figure stood among the lot of them. The figure walked to the center of the assembly, dark green hood concealing his face. He was a small figure, only standing about five foot four. Some of the Death Eaters narrowed their eyes at him, others simply sniggered.
The figure eventually fell onto his knee, pulling his hood back. He didn't wear a mask. His face was completely revealed to the assembly. He refused to bow his head in subservience though.
"I pledge my loyalties to the Lord Malfoy."
Lucius Malfoy walked down the stairway to stand in front of the petite child.
"This will all be yours someday, Draco," Lucius purred.
Draco Malfoy smiled.
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Lucius Malfoy sat at the desk in his study, working out strategies and plans. Draco sat by his feet, playing with a Persian kitten that had come into the Malfoy household a few weeks ago.
"Father," Draco asked idly, swinging a piece of yarn from between two fingers. "I was just wondering . . . Is there some personal vendetta between Lord Voldemort and yourself?"
Lucius Malfoy stopped writing and twitched with irritation.
"Please do not use that name in my household, Draco," he said, trying to keep his patience with the young boy. "Just refer to him as Tom Riddle. That's all the respect he's entitled to now."
"Oh," Draco said softly, scratching behind the kitten's ears. "Well, is there some personal vendetta between Tom Riddle and yourself?"
"Why do you think that?" Lucius asked, going back to his strategies.
"Just because," Draco shrugged. "You didn't seem overly upset about his betrayal. You seemed rather joyful. Why is that?"
Lucius laughed softly, reaching down to stroke his son's flaxen hair just as Draco was stroking the kitten.
"It's the rise to power," Lucius explained. "Aren't you joyful that your father is the new Dark Lord? Aren't you joyful that the Malfoy family has risen in power ten-fold over the past few hours? Well?"
"I suppose," Draco sighed, leaning into his father's touch a little. "I just . . . For a moment it just seemed as if there were something more to it."
"I assure you, my Draco," Lucius declared, "There is nothing more to it than that."
Draco nodded and Lucius kissed the child gently, almost sweetly. Draco sprawled out on the carpet and resumed playing with the kitten. Lucius went back to his work but memories kept prying at his mind.
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1976
Lucius Malfoy sat in front of the fireplace. The flames cast intricate designs of light upon his face. He was engrossed in a volume on the Dark Arts, supplied by the benefactor sitting behind him who was currently watching his every movement.
"Sir," Lucius declared. "I find this all very interesting."
"It is, my young Malfoy," the man declared. "Do you know how much power you currently hold in your hands?"
Lucius looked at the book in wonderment -- His wide silver-hued eyes scrutinizing the cover.
"Tell me, Lucius," the man said, interrupting the boy's train of thought. The man -- Voldemort, as he was called -- was in the prime of his life. His ebony hair was lightly streaked with gray but his face remained without wrinkle nor crease. He sat with his back straight and his head high. Lucius noticed for the first time that he, an aristocratic Malfoy, slouched.
"Tell me, Lucius, what do you want from life?"
Lucius thought about it for a moment, unsure what the basis for the question was. Was Voldemort asking out of curiosity or was this something that would effect Lucius' position as a Death Eater?
"I want power," Lucius said finally. Voldemort nodded in understanding. Lucius paused for a moment, wondering if he should continue. He decided to be truthful with his newfound friend.
"And I want you," he said quietly. Voldemort's left eyebrow arched slightly in surprise. Lucius blushed and bowed his head in shame and embarrassment.
"Keep your head up, child," Voldemort demanded and automatically, Lucius snapped to attention. Voldemort's lips curved up into a smile.
"If you want me," Voldemort stated. "Then come here and have me."
Lucius looked at the man in amazement, hardly believing what had just been said. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to where the man sat. He slid onto the man's lap, twining his arms around Voldemort's neck.
"Say it, Lucius," Voldemort whispered into the boy's ear.
"I am yours," Lucius stated before claiming the man's lips in a kiss.
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To have been left . . . For Severus Snape . . . For Harry Potter . . .
Yes, Draco. There is a personal vendetta.
Chapter Nine -- The Rise of the Storm
Lucius Malfoy sat before the assembly, looking down upon the menage of Death Eaters. It was the seat that Lord Voldemort used to occupy . . . But no more. Lucius smiled to himself. It was the end of an era. With Voldemort kept at Hogwarts, the Death Eaters were without leadership.
"Fellow Death Eaters!" Lucius called out into the crowd. Any whispering automatically stopped and a slew of masked faces turned to look at Lucius. "Fellow Death Eaters, we stand here today without a leader in our midst. We stand here today with no guidance, no organization, no central power." Lucius' lips curled up slightly. "This could all change, my friends."
"But what about Lord Voldemort?" A sharp little squeal came from the back of the assembly. Lucius turned to glare at the source. Yes, Peter Pettigrew -- Nervously edging his feet back and forth across the cold stone floor.
"Lord Voldemort can practically be considered one of them now," Lucius said, making his voice overly mournful at the thought. With that, everyone began talking.
"Couldn't be true! I've worked in the Dark Lord's service for years and . . ."
"Why would he leave the Dark Arts? He's just beginning to rise in power again . . ."
"Aware that he was bound to that young Potter boy but . . ."
"Doesn't that put him in the ideal position to gain inside information?"
"Enough!" Lucius shouted and the entire crowd fell silent. Lucius relished for a moment in his newfound power. "Lord Voldemort is nothing more than a common traitor. I have received news from various sources inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Lord Voldemort or Tom Riddle as he now calls himself is assisting Albus Dumbledore with certain projects -- Projects concerning the Circles of Aralise."
"The Circles of Aralise!" cried a Death Eater. "But those are simply a legend!"
"Not quite," Lucius said, tapping his fingers on the oaken arms of the chair -- Just like Lord Voldemort used to do when he was thinking. "If Tom Riddle and that fool Albus Dumbledore can somehow find a way to open the Circles of Aralise, our extermination with be inevitable."
A collective shudder went through the Death Eaters.
"What can we do to stop this?" Lucius asked, never expecting an answer. He rose from his seat, his voice becoming shrill and strained. "We need to choose a new leader -- Someone with the incentive to lead us to victory, someone with the determination to triumph over the opposing forces, someone with the power to rule over all!"
No more needed to be said. Avery fell onto his left knee, head bowed in reverence and respect.
"I pledge my loyalties to the Lord Malfoy," he said somberly. Lucius tried not to smile with mirth. Crabbe and Goyle followed devotedly, then Mulciber, Nott, and Pettigrew. One by one, the Death Eaters fell to their knees, pledging their loyalty to Lucius Malfoy. Eventually, only one figure stood among the lot of them. The figure walked to the center of the assembly, dark green hood concealing his face. He was a small figure, only standing about five foot four. Some of the Death Eaters narrowed their eyes at him, others simply sniggered.
The figure eventually fell onto his knee, pulling his hood back. He didn't wear a mask. His face was completely revealed to the assembly. He refused to bow his head in subservience though.
"I pledge my loyalties to the Lord Malfoy."
Lucius Malfoy walked down the stairway to stand in front of the petite child.
"This will all be yours someday, Draco," Lucius purred.
Draco Malfoy smiled.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
Lucius Malfoy sat at the desk in his study, working out strategies and plans. Draco sat by his feet, playing with a Persian kitten that had come into the Malfoy household a few weeks ago.
"Father," Draco asked idly, swinging a piece of yarn from between two fingers. "I was just wondering . . . Is there some personal vendetta between Lord Voldemort and yourself?"
Lucius Malfoy stopped writing and twitched with irritation.
"Please do not use that name in my household, Draco," he said, trying to keep his patience with the young boy. "Just refer to him as Tom Riddle. That's all the respect he's entitled to now."
"Oh," Draco said softly, scratching behind the kitten's ears. "Well, is there some personal vendetta between Tom Riddle and yourself?"
"Why do you think that?" Lucius asked, going back to his strategies.
"Just because," Draco shrugged. "You didn't seem overly upset about his betrayal. You seemed rather joyful. Why is that?"
Lucius laughed softly, reaching down to stroke his son's flaxen hair just as Draco was stroking the kitten.
"It's the rise to power," Lucius explained. "Aren't you joyful that your father is the new Dark Lord? Aren't you joyful that the Malfoy family has risen in power ten-fold over the past few hours? Well?"
"I suppose," Draco sighed, leaning into his father's touch a little. "I just . . . For a moment it just seemed as if there were something more to it."
"I assure you, my Draco," Lucius declared, "There is nothing more to it than that."
Draco nodded and Lucius kissed the child gently, almost sweetly. Draco sprawled out on the carpet and resumed playing with the kitten. Lucius went back to his work but memories kept prying at his mind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
1976
Lucius Malfoy sat in front of the fireplace. The flames cast intricate designs of light upon his face. He was engrossed in a volume on the Dark Arts, supplied by the benefactor sitting behind him who was currently watching his every movement.
"Sir," Lucius declared. "I find this all very interesting."
"It is, my young Malfoy," the man declared. "Do you know how much power you currently hold in your hands?"
Lucius looked at the book in wonderment -- His wide silver-hued eyes scrutinizing the cover.
"Tell me, Lucius," the man said, interrupting the boy's train of thought. The man -- Voldemort, as he was called -- was in the prime of his life. His ebony hair was lightly streaked with gray but his face remained without wrinkle nor crease. He sat with his back straight and his head high. Lucius noticed for the first time that he, an aristocratic Malfoy, slouched.
"Tell me, Lucius, what do you want from life?"
Lucius thought about it for a moment, unsure what the basis for the question was. Was Voldemort asking out of curiosity or was this something that would effect Lucius' position as a Death Eater?
"I want power," Lucius said finally. Voldemort nodded in understanding. Lucius paused for a moment, wondering if he should continue. He decided to be truthful with his newfound friend.
"And I want you," he said quietly. Voldemort's left eyebrow arched slightly in surprise. Lucius blushed and bowed his head in shame and embarrassment.
"Keep your head up, child," Voldemort demanded and automatically, Lucius snapped to attention. Voldemort's lips curved up into a smile.
"If you want me," Voldemort stated. "Then come here and have me."
Lucius looked at the man in amazement, hardly believing what had just been said. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to where the man sat. He slid onto the man's lap, twining his arms around Voldemort's neck.
"Say it, Lucius," Voldemort whispered into the boy's ear.
"I am yours," Lucius stated before claiming the man's lips in a kiss.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------
To have been left . . . For Severus Snape . . . For Harry Potter . . .
Yes, Draco. There is a personal vendetta.