Come the Maëlstrom
Chapter Twelve
He was starting to remember just why he didn't like the Riddle Mansion, aside from the fact that his last trip here had been less than enjoyable. He was, again, stuck in the same hallway, in front of the same cherry doors. This certainly wasn't the place he wanted to be in during a sunny late afternoon. Perhaps he had been too nervous to notice it the first time but there was a distinct aura of death and delight that steeped the place. It was like a fetid scent that pervaded everything within the walls, even the very air, and it rose his hackles slightly. It didn't help that the Dark Lord had chosen this place as a venue of discussion yet again.
When the door creaked open, he walked in, painfully aware of the cold rage that seethed of the skeletal man before him in the chair. The door shut again with a small creak and Lucius was left standing there like a chastised child.
"Lucius," Voldemort's voice was quiet. "I trust you have…recovered fully now?"
"I have my Lord," Lucius replied with a bow. "You wished to see me?"
"Yes," Voldemort let the silence come, long bony fingers stroking the yew of his wand. "You played a very brilliant move at the Ministry. You've pushed Fudge right where I wanted him, paranoid and just on the edge. The sleeper I have set up under him will be poised to overthrow him as soon as I take Hogwarts."
"I am glad I was able to further your plans my Lord," he inclined his head deeply; keeping Voldemort happy was key as he could still feel the waves of rage. "If I may be so bold my Lord, has any useful information been obtained from the prisoner yet?"
"The prisoner," Voldemort said in a clipped voice. "Disappeared right before my very eyes, snatched away somehow by Dumbledore. She resisted my attempts to glean information from her mind somehow. I learned nothing except for the fact that she owns a farm with her disgusting Muggle husband in the middle of bloody nowhere!"
Lucius made the appropriate sound of regret in his throat. Voldemort chuckled.
"Still as eager as ever I see for a good session of torture. Had you not been ill, that privilege certainly would have been yours. Crabbe," Voldemort's barely existent lip curled. "Lacks your finesse. Only capable of making sure the prisoner didn't escape; he even botched that simple task. I doubt his son will miss him much."
"My Lord flatters me," Lucius bowed. "My skills are merely at your disposal."
Voldemort obviously seemed pleased with this since the rage seemed to subside. "I trust you have your son's letters to you?"
"Right here, my Lord." Lucius reached in his pocket; he couldn't help but wonder what the Dark Lord would say if he knew that those letters were forged; Draco still hadn't replied to his earlier letter.
He approached the desk and enlarged a thin sheaf of papers before placing it on the desk and drawing back. The Dark Lord read through them quickly enough before he tossed them back on the hole-pocked desk.
"Tell me Lucius," Voldemort began slowly. "Aside from your son's surface observations, what is really going on at Hogwarts?"
Lucius took a momentary breath, thanking some nameless deity that he took the time to read the Daily Prophet carefully this morning. "Hogwarts is more fortified that ever, with probably double the number reported in the newspaper. Students must obviously be restricted to the castle alone; children grow restless. They'll manage to find ways in and out of the castle unnoticed. Dissension can easily be sown; children are also prone to fighting."
"Ah," Voldemort mused and made a pleased sound in his throat. "Almost ripe for the picking. Another quickening or two is in order, I believe."
"My Lord?"
"You will not see this part through. You've done more than enough, and your part will come soon enough. Potter must be quivering with righteous outrage by now."
Lucius simply bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Is there anything else I may do for my Lord?"
"You may leave," Voldemort waved a gaunt hand. "However, if you are able to stir up Fudge some more…"
"I understand, my Lord," Lucius bowed once more before taking the letters and slinking from the room.
It didn't take him long to Disapparate from Riddle Mansion and reappear in Knockturn Alley, walking down the cobbled street, clearly in a foul mood. The Dark Lord sounded as if he wanted to strike sooner than anticipated. More than likely, he would by the end of the week. A creak made him look overhead to see a swinging sign bearing the words, 'têté-a têt'; perfect, he could us a drink before heading back home. As far as he knew, this was the cleanest bar in Knockturn Alley. He found a seat and was sipping a glass of firewhiskey in quiet contemplation of the Dark Lord's madness when a shadow fell over him.
"Imagine finding you here."
Lucius looked up to find somewhat beady eyes and a very familiar pointed beard on a face he didn't want to see for a long while. "Karakoff… and here I thought you wouldn't dare crawl out of whatever cesspool you concealed yourself in."
Karakoff gave a barely withering smile and sat down in the seat facing Lucius. And then he gave a wide smile; the kind of ingratiating, infuriating smile that caused drunk wizards to star hexing one another. It made Lucius' hand itch to jinx him under the table but he kept his hand firmly wrapped around the glass of alcohol. He shifted his gaze to the swirling, and slightly smoking, amber, red and orange contents of his tumbler.
"What?" Karakoff said finally. "Nothing to say to a fellow compatriot?"
Lucius sneered at that. "After you've handled yourself so… admirably over the years, you're lucky I didn't see fit to greet you in an entirely different manner."
"Ah, still sour about that?" Karakoff laughed. "That was a long time ago!" he clapped Lucius on the shoulder.
"Je suis un Malfoy," he said looking at Karakoff's hand as if it were trash. He then turned his gaze to the man. "Nous n'oublions pas."
Karakoff snatched his hand back hastily, with an audible gulp. He gave a chuckle that started off nervous but ended secure. "He needs me at the end of the week."
"Does he?" Lucius mused in a bored tone; he could see the desperate need for validation in Karakoff's eyes. "And just what for?"
"He hasn't told you?" Karakoff asked smugly, a bit too smugly in all actuality.
"He sees fit to make me privy to the more important things in the large scheme. I, for one, don't make a complete mess and utter fool of myself." He let his gaze flickered contemptuously over Karakoff.
Karakoff's face went red, probably angry at having embarrassment and humility crammed down his throat in one swift go. Lucius simply gave him a cool look, daring him to retort back. Karakoff stared down into the depths of his Gillywater for a long while before he spoke.
"He asked me to lead the trip to Hogsmeade."
"How fortunate for you," Lucius scoffed. "Have you been attempting to curry favour for this long and that's the culmination of your efforts? Pitiful, really."
Karakoff gave a scowl to accompany his red face. He downed his Gillywater in one gulp. "You would do well to facilitate this excursion."
"Not when there are other things that I am to take part of." Lucius replied, not even bothering to look at the other.
"I'm sure he'll be glad to know of your reluctance to help."
Lucius simply gave him a predatory smile. "My reluctance stems from your proven record of messing things up. Since you do not seem to notice, let me inform you of your rank, hm? I can't go any higher than I've gone. You would need to spend the rest of you life to get a tiny bit closer to where I am."
"If you say so." Karakoff snorted.
Lucius would have been slightly inclined to believe that had Karakoff's nervous tic made itself know a few seconds later. The pinky finger on his left hand began trembling slightly, despite the rest of him remaining as stiff as a board. It also helped that Lucius knew a bluff when he saw one. Karakoff had been passable at bluffing, but what he was witnessing now… it was painful; it was as if Karakoff were a lame animal suffering. He never thought he would say this but the Dark Lord would inevitably do the humane thing. There was an oxymoronic ring to that, a humane Dark Lord. He gave a dry chuckle and took another sip of his drink.
"Honestly, don't come to play these games with me if you're going to make it this pathetically easy," Lucius smirked with faint amusement. "I'd rather not see my time end up in the trash; there are better things I could be doing."
Karakoff gave him a nasty look. "You won't be so high and mighty all the time," he spat. "Everyone screws up at some point."
"Your logic is reasonable and sound but for one critical flaw."
"And that is?" Karakoff asked sullenly.
"I am most certainly not everyone and I never make a mistake."
And with that, Lucius finished off his drink and tossed a Galleon on the table before leaving the bar. If there was one thing Lucius couldn't quite stand it was desperate men that attempted to make themselves seem much more important that they truly were. While it provided spectacle, it was nothing short of pathetic and a profound disgrace.
The beginnings of a headache were setting in as he Apparated into the front foyer of his manor. Streams of afternoon sunlight drifted in through the windows on the upper level and parlour, while bits of dust lazily made their way down. For a moment, he could believe that this house was rather warm and relaxed; not the seething hotbed of intrigue, power plays and backstabbing that it seemed to become. He found himself faintly wishing that he had been able to raise Draco in a completely different manner, but the most he could manage was to shield and arm him against Narcissa and her undoubtedly damaging emotional manipulation.
His steps whispered against the hardwood floors as he made his way to his library. It was only a few minutes later that he was seated at the desk and had started his research once more. He'd found what appeared to be a promising answer the night before and was rather intent on finding out as much as he possibly could.
It was a good thing that the first owl came before he was too absorbed in the work and that the second owl came right after it. He tossed both letters on his desk, gave the owls obligatory treats and sent them back before turning to the letters. The first one was Draco's; he'd certainly taken his time replying; Lucius had sent a letter almost two weeks ago, when he'd gotten back. The other one was from Severus but it could more than likely wait. He ripped the seal on Draco's letter and opened it.
'Father,
I talked to Professor Snape and my grade is quite fine. Mudblood be damned. She's nothing more than a buck-toothed annoyance.
While it pains me to admit this, she manages to have her intelligent moments. But her insistence that she's always right, along with other detrimental aspects, leave me with very little to worry about. Let her memorise her books; it certainly doesn't translate into practical experience that can immediately be put to use.
In other words, blunt words to be more precise, stay the hell out of my damned business.
As to your other delicately unphrased request, I'm sure you know it all already. I'm sure you know some fools charged out to fight in the last skirmish here and you probably read it all in this morning's paper, so embellish that to your heart's content.
Other than that, nothing else has changed…well, not that much. Potter's turned up and decidedly different.
We actually have a truce. I'm contemplating his offer of friendship. Try to not have a heart attack or the like.
Draco'
Lucius snorted and rolled the letter back up. That had been rather amusing to read. He picked up Severus' letter and unrolled it, surprised to find something shrunken fall out. Mildly curious, he laid it aside, and read Severus' extremely short message.
'Be here tomorrow at 5. I believe I found an answer.'
If there was one thing about Severus' letters, they were awfully succinct. Now, about this thing that had come along with Severus' letter. He pointed his wand at it, causing it to swell to regular size. Both eyebrows raised when he saw it was a sealed envelope and the front bore the initials of, 'LM'. Only someone that brazen would smuggle a message to him through a letter than Severus sent him. He shook his head slightly as he opened the letter and began to read, with a slight smile on his face.
'Luc,
I'll admit, I had no clue what your lawyer was talking about until I was informed the business card I held was a transfigured letter. I managed to convince Ron it was from Sirius, so everything's fine on that front.
You know, I think you're the only man I know that would send message to his lover deep within enemy territory and through a lawyer no less. Though I did find him rather amusing, as he and I had a small run in with Umbridge. I'm probably gonna sue that hag to get the ban on me playing Quidditch lifted. And to doubly piss her off, I think I will take up Mr. Nihilare on his offer.'
It seemed that Harry was in a very vengeful mood.
'Things aren't quite the same at Hogwarts and everyone's anxious to know what Voldemort's up to. Though trying to get any decent information from the Ministry mouthpiece is practically impossible, unless they want us to know on purpose. Or they can't cover it up. Like Saturday's incident.'
Lucius couldn't help but snort. They'd certainly have trouble covering that up. Thankfully he'd been ill. What a perfect alibi, hovering between life and death.
'You know, I'll bet Voldemort was expecting me to morally outraged and practically frothing at the mouth about those attacks in Muggle and Wizarding London. Even with all the fear spreading around the castle, I find that it doesn't affect me all that much. True, it was a terrible thing, but I can't really find it in myself to care. Does that make me a heartless person, knowing what lies at the heart of his actions and what everyone will expect me to do, to accomplish, this time around?
Don't get me wrong, I care for my friends but I find myself wanting a little bit of solitude more now. I don't even have the time I used to for meditation. I can't even have a really private, private life with them. When I was seeing Seamus, Hermione hounded me for every little detail – which I stupidly gave – and Ron got all threatening on Seamus. No small wonder we broke up. And then they wondered why.'
"Stupid really," Lucius frowned.
'I can just see you saying stupid or something insulting them in some manner, maybe, hopefully, with that charming frown of yours. Yes, I do find your frown charming. Actually, I find myself debating which part of you I like more.
Your mouth says such pretty, filthy things or it can be so wickedly sharp that the pleasure it brings is pained and I can't help but want more of it.
Or maybe it's your mind, where it all springs from, every twisted perverse thought, every dark erotic fantasy that you won't say but want to see fulfilled.
It might be those hands of yours, the way they grasp mine as you come inside me, taut and hard with lines of ecstasy mirrored on your beautiful face or soft gentle and teasing as you run them over my body, searching for something I can only guess.
No, your back is rather entrancing, even though I've seen it only once; the way it ripples and moves, curving with your spine as I jerked you off and you came right on my hand. I could literally see your completion in the way your back relaxed and it made me even harder.
Perhaps your legs and they way they move, controlled power in essence as you stalked towards me on the bed so many nights. Hm, do you know you have elegant feet? They fit you perfectly and the way your toes curl slightly or your feet arch in the throes of passion just accentuates your legs.
No, I think it might be your hair. That glorious blond hair that crowns your head and feels like silk against my skin. Just seeing it bound back made me want to free it and have you fuck me senseless so I can feel it against me.
It could quite possibly be your eyes. That's how I know you want me. They go from light silver to a dark grey like molten pewter and in the afterglow, they go a touch lighter a platinum colour that looks otherworldly, like you have the blood of some fey creature in your veins.
As you can tell, I'm still trying to figure it out. Wonderful, I've just gone and managed to make myself hard. I'm going to have to end this letter here. I think you know what I'm going to do.
Harry'
"You bloody little poetic cocktease…" Lucius muttered, painfully aware of the half-hard bulge in his pants.
He took one look at his research before he rose abruptly and stalked off to his room. He knew exactly what he was going to do.
Lucius stepped out the fireplace and found a clock was already chiming the hour of five. The main room of Severus' chambers was an orderly disaster. Stacks of books were arranged on the floor, while every single bit of available table space housed either more books or piles of parchment. He surveyed the area glad for his condensed notes, slim and folded inside his robe pocket. It was so like Severus to have a neat mess. The table in his library looked like a true disaster zone compared to this; researching was the one time when he allowed himself to actually be…well, a slob.
"Took you long enough," Severus said without looking up. "Bloody bothersome bastard."
Lucius reached in his pocket and drew out his work. "How nice to see you too." He said with a condescending smile. "And I even brought you a small token of my appreciation."
Severus' lip curled at that but he shifted aside to allow Lucius somewhere to sit. "Well, let's see it. I haven't got all day! I have tea with Potter again around seven."
Stifling his chuckle, Lucius unsealed the paper with a tap of his wand and spread it out. "From what I've been able to find, the Viscis draught is our best bet. It will undo some of the rituals that the Dark Lord has performed on himself. If done right, it should cut his enhanced magical strength in half."
"He's done rituals," Severus snorted. "So –"
"Fight hexes with hexes," Lucius finished. "He's always having to drink some concoction; he's not going to notice another one."
"Paranoia makes him wary of anything new," Severus began with a smug smirk.
"I'd rather not be accused of poisoning him. Which is why in a day or so, you will inform him that Dumbledore has just discovered an elixir that could be very detrimental to his health and you've taken the precaution of brewing a counterpotion." Lucius couldn't help but smile slightly at the irony of his first sentence.
Apparently the irony wasn't lost to Severus either. "Forget tea with Potter; he just prattles on anyhow. Bloody boy is a nuisance."
"But a useful nuisance nonetheless," Lucius finally said. "Shall I assume you found something? Or have we neglected our work until the last minute?"
"The Falliblis ritual," Severus scowled at Lucius. And probably the best one to use as well in conjunction with yours, as it will amplify the effect of the Viscis draught," Severus' eyes scanned the ingredients lists carefully. "Without causing a notable change."
"How it is that you've been struggling to secure the Dark Arts teaching position is beyond me." Lucius gave him an amused smirk. "However, there is one more, brew I came across, a… different sort of poison. Some clever soul combined Muggle science with poison making."
Severus looked thoroughly annoyed at his disparaging comment but intrigued enough. "Do tell."
"The Cruoris poison. Essentially, it uses Potter's blood against him. He used it that night in the graveyard, so it should be twice as effective since it's a very part of his body. Here." He slid the parchment over to Severus.
There came a long silence as Severus' eyes grew wide as he read what was before him. "Do you realise," he said quietly after a few minutes. "That this is essentially all that is needed?"
"Granted you can obtain some of Potter's blood." Lucius added. "If you can convince him of this method."
Severus snorted. "Dumbledore seemed pleased that the Dark Lord used Potter's blood for the ritual. I think I can get some from Poppy or persuade him by some means." He brought out his wand and a minute later, Lucius found himself holding a list. "This is a list of ingredients you need to… procure for our endeavours."
Lucius looked away from Severus' supremely pleased smirk to scan over the list. His expression went from neutral to mildly displeased. An eyebrow was raised more than once over some of the ingredients. Chimaera scales, dragon blood – right down to the species needed, Kappa fingernails, Runespoor tongues, Snitch feathers… over half this list was difficult enough to obtain through normal channels let alone clandestine ones.
"Surely you don't –" he began.
"Oh but I do. I need you Lucius." Severus trilled mockingly.
It was Lucius' turn to scowl as he folded up the list and slipped it into a pocket. "I'll leave that with you. And I suggest you talk to Potter."
Severus' smug look vanished away completely. "Potter doesn't need to know quite yet."
"Funny," Lucius said dryly as he made his way to the fireplace and grasped a handful of Floo Powder. "You sound almost like Dumbledore."
And with that, he threw down the powder and was hurtling along to his own home. He'd forgotten how enjoyable it was to have the last word in a conversation with Severus.
Note - Je suis un Malfoy. Nous n'oublions pas. = I am a Malfoy. We do not forget. [French]