Draco,
I think that the Dark Lord wants you to, um, do something to help him defeat the Boy Who Lived, but I'm not entirely sure, as I've taken a very grievous injury to the head. So… you should probably do something. Soon.
Lucius Malfoy
Draco put down the paper and sighed. This is probably Father's way of trying to get me to take my own initiative as a Death Eater, he thought. Great. Now I need to come up with a plan. And a cunning one at that. Yes, that sounds good, a Cunning Plan.
He thought long and hard. He wanted his plan to involve not only Potter's death but his humiliation. After all, his life goal since entering Hogwarts had been to make the boy suffer, had it not? Yes. Potter must suffer.
Harry had tried everything that he could think of to come up with a Cunning Plan on his own. Unfortunately, he had no real experience with the things, since Hermione Who Knows Everything had always been there to help him.
He tried eating gillyweed, but then he couldn't breathe and had to go jump in the lake. He tried taking a bath in the Prefect's bathroom, which had really helped him think during the Triwizard Tournament, but he still could not think of a Plan. He even tried doing nothing, because that was usually what got him anywhere in the first place, but even that didn't help. So he wandered the halls aimlessly, sulking.
It was then that he ran into Draco Malfoy.
Draco had been plotting ever since he had received his father's letter. He had decided that his best bet was to try to win Potter's trust and kidnap him. He had no idea how he would accomplish this, especially because Potter was very well protected nowadays, but he would give it the old Malfoy try.
Thus, when he ran into the Boy Who Lived wandering the hallways, he grinned to himself and decided to put Phase 1 of his Cunning Plan into action.
"Potter," he said in greeting. Then he stopped, for he had suddenly realized that he had no idea how to carry on a conversation with the boy in front of him. Steeling himself, he continued, "So, um, nice weather we are having, isn't it?"
Harry blinked. "Um, Malfoy, actually, it just so happens to be raining."
"Is it really? Well, I like rain. Don't you?"
Harry brightened a little bit. After all, it didn't seem like his rival was looking for a fight. This fact should have made him suspicious, but his inner Gryffindor said hey, why not give the guy a chance?
"Yeah, kind of," he replied. "Although just now it's reminding me of the fact that there is a Very Evil Dark Lord out there who wants to kill me and is probably plotting my death right at this moment."
Draco knew an opening when he saw one. Jumping on it, he said, "See, Harry, that is exactly what I've been hoping to talk to you about. I'm afraid that the Dark Lord is plotting to kill me, too."
Harry, being the trusting Gryffindor that he was, believed him. "Oh no, Draco, that's horrible! Did your dad do something wrong?"
Draco hung his head. He looked every inch the Repentant Death Eater, and he knew it. He smirked to himself before answering. "No, Harry, it is I who has failed. You see, I was hesitant to take the Dark Mark," and so saying he rolled up his sleeve to reveal it, "and the Dark Lord knew it. He is going to kill me, Harry, I can tell. Maybe not now, but soon." He looked up at Harry earnestly. "Will you help me, Harry?"
When Harry's face immediately filled with pity, Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back. I'll surpass my father in the Death Eater ranks in no time at this rate, he thought happily. Now he just needed to figure out to how to implement Phase 2.
-----------------
Lucius Malfoy was cowering again. He seemed to be doing rather a lot of that lately, he realized with a scowl. But he did not have any time to contemplate this, because Voldemort was in a Very Foul Mood again, only this time it was directed solely at Lucius himself, who was reminded very strongly of his Master's last Foul Mood by the large cut on his head.
Although, perhaps "reminded" is not quite the right word, as Lucius had very little memory of the incident, thanks to said cut and the concussion that had come with it.
"LUCIUS!" Lucius trembled. "LUCIUS, GET YOUR POMPOUS, COWARDLY MALFOY ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Head bowed, Lucius scurried to the throne room.
"Lucius," Voldemort repeated, only this time it came out as a very dark and silky purr. Lucius's head snapped up in surprise, and the sight that greeted him caused him to physically recoil.
The Very Evil Dark Lord had done Something Very Strange to his face.
Lucius stared at him for awhile in silence, until finally Voldemort sighed. "Lucius, honestly, you must learn some Occlumency. I am growing very tired of reading your thoughts."
Lucius bit his lip, and finally decided that he had nothing to lose. He is probably reading my mind right now as I think it, he thought wearily.
The Very Evil Dark Lord gave a Very Evil Snort, or as evil of a snort as he could give while choking with laughter. "Yes, Lucius, I have indeed read it already, but I want to hear you say it."
"Well then, My Lord. I was simply wondering whether that is marker on your face or not."
Voldemort leered at him. "Yes, Lucius, it is. And do you know why I have marker on my face?"
Lucius could not imagine why a Very Evil Dark Lord would want to put marker on his Very Evil Face, unless it was a Very Evil Marker.
This time, Voldemort actually smiled, and in doing so revealed a few spots around his mouth which he had apparently missed with the marker. Lucius recoiled again at the sight.
"I have a beard again," the Very Evil Dark Lord said in a dreamy voice. He stroked it absently. "And do you know who I have to thank for that?"
Lucius suddenly felt hopeful. "Me, My Lord?" he asked hopefully.
Voldemort smiled again. "Very good, Lucius. I knew you could use that brain of yours, despite your pretty blond hair. And I shall reward you accordingly." He thought for a moment, and seemed to come to a decision. "I shall not fling you for at least one day. If you keep coming up with ideas such as these, though, your reward may last longer."
Lucius left the room, his head filled with fleeting dreams of power and money. He left behind a cackling Very Evil Dark Lord, who immediately took out a brown marker and a mirror from his robe and proceeded to fix his beard.