Disclaimer: HP and all of the characters belong to JK. So there.
Author's Notes: This is a one-shot. There is nothing else to go with it.
Her sharp fingernails tore through his collar and scratched his neck as she pulled him closer. His heart raced as he was yanked forward, their faces now inches apart. Her skin was yellow and dying, looking more like haggard, ruddy leather stretched across her bones. The teeth in her skull were black and rotting, the festering green of her gums exposed as she opened her mouth widely, her milky white eyes rolling madly in her head.
"Pure blood is the only thing that matters, boy," She hissed furiously, spittle running down her chin. Her breath smelled of death itself; invading the boy's nostrils and dampening his forehead with sweat. "Pure blood! We must bring honor to the name of Slytherin! Death to the mudbloods and the half-breeds and the blood traitors!" She screeched. Her grip loosened on his collar as he pulled away. She began to twitch and cough, hacking up blood and mucus all over the honorable linens of the House of Malfoy.
No one said a word about her attack on the boy, and they still remained silent as her blind eyes darted back and forth across the room. She could smell them there staring at her as she lay dying, but to lift a finger to help her… never. Her medicine lay next to the bed, but she hadn't had it in days.
She began to cough more, grinding her dead, rotting teeth as she passed from this world to the next, her last words being "Kill the dirty."
Lucius never had any reason to grieve or feel remorse over the death of his useless old Grandmother, who did nothing but talk of madness, causing his Parents nothing but anger, resentment, and grief. She would dirty the sheets and eat their food, all while spitting and cursing and calling them traitors. Her insanity was what angered them the most. How could she, the matriarch of the honorable House of Malfoy, ever think that her own flesh and blood would have pity upon the half-breeds and the mudbloods?
"Its better this way, dear," His mother would say to her spouse, "just forget to give her the medicine…"
Abraxas always listened to his wife. Why help the sick and dying when there was so much in life for the healthy…?
Lucius learned a great deal from his Parents, and when he was presented to the Dark Lord Voldemort as a hopeful candidate to join his infamous Death Eaters, he knew not to refuse what the Dark Lord asked…
The night was cold and bitter as he walked through the wood alone. His Father had retreated at the edge of the blackened trees, telling his son that the Dark Lord requested their meeting to be private. Lucius shivered as he stepped over rotting branches, his wand lit and cloak clutched around him.
As the darkness of the wood and the sounds of creatures growling and hissing began to attack his psyche, he wondered to himself why, exactly, was he doing this. Why was he trying so hard to become a Death Eater…? Was it because he wanted to prove to his Father that he was ready to inherit the House of Malfoy and uphold all of its standards? No, he really didn't care what his Father thought of him. He knew that his Mother's silky forked tongue would assure him his inheritance.
Was it the fact that the Dark Lord wanted to vanquish the muggles and mudbloods that dirtied the world? No, if someone wanted to do that bad enough, they could have. If the Dark Lord wouldn't have stepped up to do it – someone else would. Was it the fact that the Dark Lord promised him power beyond his imagination? Yes, that was it, he thought to himself – power. That's what he'd always wanted, since he was a boy. He would watch his Father rule over the household, crushing anything that proved to be opposition. He owned half of the Ministry of Magic, filling their pockets in order to have certain bills passed and unfortunate laws abolished…
As Lucius walked down the dark path, the moonlight shining between branches and illuminating his white-blond hair, he also thought of another aspect of Death Eater life that he would love to have… killing.
Lucius smirked as the word resounded in his head… killing…
The memory that stood out in his mind was the day his Mother taught him the Killing Curse. The look in her cold, grey eyes was electrifying as she killed a cat in the garden that had been digging up her vegetables. The Angel of Death's wings sounded around him as the cat went limp, its gold eyes wide open and staring. Green light flashed brilliantly as the life was sucked out of the animal, leaving it a useless shell of flesh. He licked his dry lips, thinking back as he started killing little animals that snuck into the garden, watching over and over as they took their last breaths, their bodies falling softly onto the ground… If only he could do this to a human… if only he could watch the shock, the horror, the pure, unadulterated fear as the green light flashed and their eyes became empty and staring…
His breath became more rapid, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight as he approached the Dark Lord's hideaway, knocking on the heavy doors. Carvings of dark runes scarred the wood, giving protection from those who wished to do him harm. Lucius smirked as a masked figure opened it silently, giving him clearance to enter.
The house smelled of death and the walls were covered in cobwebs, dead spiders hanging limply by the threads. A handful of people, all masked and cloaked, watched him as he climbed the decrepit stairs, the black eyes of the masks unblinking. He had to admit that he was a bit unsettled, but this was a very small price to pay for what he knew was awaiting him.
A door at the end of the hallway was painted in black, and a gold knocker in the form of a snake stared at him from the wood, looking as if it dared him to touch it, much less knock. Pale candlelight flickered under the door, casting an orange hue over his boots. He took in a deep breath and knocked.
Silence ensued for a brief moment and then a soft hissing began to come from behind the door. He swallowed as he watched the candlelight turn to darkness on the floor signaling that someone – or something was standing behind it.
"Enter, Lucius…" came a voice so powerful and commanding that Lucius had the distinct urge to bow. But instead he followed orders, opening the door.
A large snake was sitting just inside, its tongue flicking up at him. Lucius furrowed his brow, his fingers twitching as he began to pull out his wand.
"That is Nagini," The voice sounded, "She will not harm you…" Lucius then realized that someone was sitting on a throne, robed in black. A hood covered the man's face, but red gleaming eyes peered at him from the darkness. He placed his wand in his pocket, watching the snake out of the corner of his eyes.
"Come forward, Lucius." The voice hissed furiously. Lucius approached slowly, his forehead dampened with nervous perspiration. He licked his lips and kneeled before the figure, bowing his head.
"You wish to join my rank of Death Eaters," He said, touching Lucius' head. The young man felt as if an icy bolt of lightning shot down his spine; he was helpless for the first time in his life. His previous position of kneeling was changed instantly into a position of prostration as his other knee hit the floor and his face was inches from the Dark Lord's boots. He nodded his head positively, unable to speak the answer to the Dark Lord's inquiry.
"You are willing to kill for me, Lucius?" He asked, running his cold, death-like fingers down the teenager's cheek.
"Yes… yes, my Lord. I am willing to kill for you," said Lucius honorably, thinking of the death and destruction he could cause. The Dark Lord laughed, and Lucius felt another shot of icy lightning. It was pain that he had never felt before, but it was something he was craving. The high-pitched, mirthless laugh of his Master…
"You shall have plenty victims, my slippery friend." The Dark Lord hissed, standing and sliding his hood from his head, "Look at me."
Lucius looked up and his eyes widened. His heart hammered in his chest, and for the moment, he was unable to breathe. The wide, mad eyes of the Dark Lord stared at him from the face that was white as a skull. His nose was flat, and his nostrils resembled those of a snake's. This was his Master; this was his Lord; this was his Savior…
"My Lord," Lucius said, his voice dripping with awe and guilt. How could he ever question his loyalty? How could he ever question why he wouldn't fight, kill, and die to make sure that his Lord ruled all, "My Lord," He whispered again, "Please give me the honor… the privilege… to become your most faithful."
The Dark Lord laughed again, snatching Lucius' arm from underneath him. He pressed his fingers into the teenager's pale flesh, and pain that Lucius had never experienced before tore through his muscles and made him scream in agony. All he could think of was the pain, and all he could hear was the mirthless laugh… The crimson eyes staring straight down into him…
The pain lifted and Lucius stared down at his once untouched forearm. A black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth was burned, like a macabre tattoo, into his skin. The Dark Lord ran his spider-like fingers over it, making the pain shoot through his veins over and over.
"Welcome, Lucius…" His Master whispered, "Now it is time for your first task…" Lucius blinked at him, then bowed his head.
"Yes, my Lord." He said obediently, and the Dark Lord smirked, walking over to an old wardrobe and opening the doors. A man was tied up with Devil's Snare. He had been fighting against it; fore his hands were a sick shade of purple and droplets of blood oozed down his arms. He was screaming, but due to what was obviously a silencing charm, he was unheard.
"This muggle was captured walking through my forest," The Dark Lord hissed, "And punishment is death, most certainly… and you, Lucius, will do the honors."
Lucius' eyes lit up as he drew his wand, "How shall I kill him, Master?" He asked, licking his lips.
"I presume that you have been taught the Killing Curse?" The Dark Lord asked lazily. Lucius' heart began to pound. This is what he had been waiting for…
"Yes, my Lord. I was taught by my Mother." He said proudly, pointing his wand at the man, who was squirming desperately.
"Ah yes… your Mother…" He said, running his fingers through the muggle's hair, pulling and digging his fingernails into his flesh, "She is quite talented at it…" The man screamed; his eyes full of pain and disgust as blood dripped down his face, "I want to see how she has taught you…" He said, backing away and taking out a black handkerchief, dabbing at his bloody fingers, "Kill him."
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said proudly, his eyes glinting with pleasure. He took in a breath and steadied his wand, "Avada Kedavra!" He shouted, and he watched as the flash of green light erupted from his wand and filled the room, reflecting in his Master's proud eyes. It hit the man square in his chest, and the stupid, filthy muggle's eyes widened in fear as the life was taken from him in an instant, and the flapping of demonic wings sounded through the room. It was over in a second, but to Lucius, it seemed like an eternity that he wished would never end. The man slumped over, his eyes staring and empty.
Lucius took a breath, relishing in the look of horror in the man's eyes. He drank it in, feeling the power wash over him. Lucius had the power to take lives… he had the power to end them… Looking to his Master, he bowed, pocketing his wand once more, "My Lord… am I to prove useful?" He asked.
"Yes, Lucius… very useful indeed…"