Chapter Four:

Malfoy manor was big. Very big. And not like house big, more along the lines of castle big. Numair, who was at least a good six feet tall, strained his neck just trying to see the top. It was amazing. And it was nothing like what he expected a dark wizards home to look like.

He'd thought he'd arive at this big, dark, dank moldy old cathedral like place. Something scary. Instead he found himself staring in awe at a very well taken care of home, surrounded by a large black fence.
The geats were slightly ominous with a large 'M' surrounded by serpents heads on them, but other than that.... it was like a very large version of his own home.

Beautiful garden. Hedges, flowers....... it made him him think of his pathetic underwatered rose bush. He made a mental note to take better care of it.

Numair walked up to the front door. For a moment he hesitated. It had taken a great amount of trust for his father to have told him about someone like this. Had he wanted, Numair could have turned them both over to the Ministry. Or mayby it wasn't trust. He probably figured Numair would be too afraid to do something like that. And he was. But he was even more afraid to be standing at a powerful dark wizard's doorstep,
on the verge of going in and asking him to take him to Voldomort.

It was madness. What was he thinking? He didn't belong here, he wasn't cut out for anything the Dark Lord did. He'd heard all the stories, even seen the effects of it first hand. In his last year at Hogwarts it seemed like every day children were getting owls telling them another family member was dead. Almost all of them muggle-borns. He was too much of a coward for this.

Then he thought of his father. What that auror had done to him. Accident indeed. These were the kind of people who could get him the kind of revenge he so terribly desired. Was it worth it? Yes. Oh yes it was.

Numair took a deep breath to calm himself and then knocked. The door had a very interesting knocker on it. Shaped like a serpents head. Seemed like everything around here was like that.

He was just thinking that mayby no one was home, but then the door swung open slowly, creaking. It made him wence.

Standing in front of him was a very dirty house-elf. "Hello sir, Um,
welcome, my master is......"

"Oh get out of the way you wretched creature." the house elf was throne aside. "Dear, dear. Don't you look a lot like your father. Come in, come in." the door was swung wide and Numair took a tentative step inside,
wanting to see this man. Whoever it was was already walking away,
waving for him to follow.

"He told me he thought you were quite the prospect. But stuborn."

"Did you know my father well?" Numair asked, trying desperately to catch up to the mans long graceful strides.

"Oh yes. Good old Delarahs. He was a friend of the family. Pity what happened to him. You've probably actually met me at some point before.
We're cousins of some sort, through a distant marrage. Most pure-bloods are though, so that's really not saying anything."

"I'm Lucius Malfoy by the way.

Numair nodded to himself. He'd been paying more attention to the halls he was walking through than what was being said. It was amazing. Paintings hung here and there, their occupants for the most part asleep. He guessed they must be ancesstors or something of the sort. They all seemed to have the same pale blond hair and blue eyes. It was kind of eerie if you thought about it.

Lucius had led him to the drawing room. Yet another display of good taste. And wealth. It was enough to make a person feel very small and unimportant.

"Sit. I imagine you came here for a reason?"

Lucius took a seat in a big arm chair and Numair sat across from him.
For the first time he got a good look at his host. It wasn't exactly what he'd expected.

He'd thought he'd be older. Lucius appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes as the people in the paintings. It made him annoyingly handsome. Eck.

"Yeah, actually I did. I had a very good reason for comeing here." he took a deep breath. Now that he was here he wasn't sure he could do it.
'Coward, get on with it.' he thought.

"My father told me a lot of things, uh, about you. And him. And some things he did." another deep breath. He decided to cut straight to the point. No since in useless rambling. "I want to you to take me to Voldomort. I want to join you." yep. Just cut straight to the point Numie. Brilliant.

Lucius studied his face for a moment. Numair couldn't read his expression,
but from the long silence he judged the other man wasn't pleased.

"First off, never call the Dark Lord by his name. If I hear you use it again I will personaly remove your tounge." Numair swallowed nervously.
"And secondly, what makes you think he'd want you hmmm? By all rights I should just kill you and get it over with. Delarahs was foolish to tell you such things. He placed us all in danger."

Numair's heart sank. So much for revenge. This fools brigade was going to end right here. It was most disapointing.

"However, you are terribly eager. Young, full of ambition. Mayhaps you could be of some use......"

Numair ignored the cold tone Lucius was using. So what if he was being talked about like some kind of tool, if it got him out of being killed,
who cared?

"But are you sure this is what you want? There is no turning back. A commitment to the Dark Lord is one made for life. And if you were to refuse, well, I wouldn't be able to let you leave now would I? You've gotten yourself into quite the box."

Numair sighed. It was true. No way out of it now. "Yes, nothing would please me more."

"Ah, good. Well then, this will be interesting won't it..........."