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Chapter 3

The potion was ready, Lucius noted with a glimmer of pride. It wasn't just ready and it wasn't just any potion. It was perfect, and it was the Amortentia potion, the potion that Voldemort had explicitly asked for in his quest to destroy Weasley. It hadn't been easy to make, that was for damn sure. It had taken days—weeks actually—to gather all the necessary ingredients, ranging from the common to the incredibly rare. Even the ingredients that should have been easy to acquire had been difficult, like the blood. More specifically, Hermione Granger's blood. The potion called for hair actually, which would have been much easier to come by, but Voldemort had been adamant about getting blood instead. Blood, he said, made the potion so much more intense, and intense was exactly what Voldemort wanted. Intensity was going to be Weasley's undoing, he was sure of it.

Coming across the blood however had been a whole other adventure. Lucius had been forced to employ the use of his son Draco which had bothered him the most about the whole endeavor; asking Draco for help. The mere act of asking his son to help him was so detestable that he had ended up having Narcissa write to Draco asking for a vial of Granger's blood. Whether he had taken Lucius' suggestion about setting one of Hagrid's beasts loose on her or if he had come up with his own plan of action, Lucius would never know. All he cared about was that three weeks after he asked for it, a tiny vial of deep crimson liquid had arrived along with a letter from Draco. Lucius hadn't bothered to read his son's messy scrawl and had immediately sent the letter into the fireplace, taking the vial with him to the dungeons where he had been preparing the potion for weeks.

Lucius stirred the thick tonic with a sort of manic gleam in his eyes. All of his hard work had finally paid off and he felt positive that Voldemort would repay him kindly for his efforts. Looking down at the mixture, Lucius was vaguely surprised at the how thin the substance seemed. He had seen all of the ingredients that went into the potion and there had been some pretty rough stuff. They couldn't have just—disappeared. Lucius rubbed his eyes and chided himself for being so surprised. It was no doubt something to do with the heat or the perpetual stirring; there was absolutely no reason to get so confused about it. Still, the idea puzzled him as he ladled the silvery broth into the heavy brown canister. The potion fizzled slightly as it swished around, coating the sides of the canteen with its silver pallor. The coloring of the mix was by far its best quality, Lucius thought to himself, momentarily transfixed by the soft shimmer. It was a sharp silver color that held the vague qualities of fresh snow, powdered across the landscape. Light reflected off from the mixture giving it an almost dreamlike quality and for some reason it reminded Lucius of Narcissa with its subdued beauty. Despite the gentle fantasies it seemed to provoke however the smell alone was enough to send Lucius running for a gas mask of some sort to shield his senses. It was worse than anything he had ever encountered, summoning visions of rotting flesh, gored bodies and insect-infested wounds left festering in the sun for extended periods. Lucius coughed back the bile that was threatening to rise from his throat. How am I supposed to get Weasley to drink this? Lucius asked himself wondering how the smell alone wouldn't kill Weasley before the elixir touched his lips. Bracing himself for another bout of nausea, Lucius carefully placed the potion into his robes and set off to initiate the second part of the plan.

Just as Lucius suspected, as the day drew to a close, several bands of Hogwarts students flocked into the cheery tavern, seeking solace from the cool winds that had picked up as the day wore on. The groups were peppered throughout the tavern, clutching warm drinks among the clusters of friends and talked in spirited tones. The excitement in the students was palpable as they discussed the beginning of the new school year, the new headmaster of Hogwarts and reminisced over the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Lucius watched the proceedings with distaste, having lost his youthful enthusiasm before he reached his adolescent years. He watched the groups with little interest, losing more hope by the minute as his desired student had yet to show up. He had just about given up entirely when the door swung open, bringing in not only the infamous trio but a gust of cold fall wind as well. Lucius watched as the three fumbled with their cloaks, stripping them off and shaking them out before scouring the tavern for a spot to rest. After greeting several friends and schoolmates they decided on a secluded table near the back of the room. Lucius eyed the threesome with interest as they immediately launched into what looked to be a rather involved discussion. It even looked as though they might be angry with each other but Lucius attributed it to the poor lighting of the tavern. Only when Harry stood tiredly and trudged towards the bar did Lucius stand up. This had been the moment he was waiting for.

Approaching the counter, Lucius was careful to stand back so Harry wouldn't see him, but as soon as Harry had turned to return to his seat, Lucius stepped up. The bartender was sloppy with the drinks, sloshing them gracelessly over the sides of the mugs as he lined them up on the serving platter. Lucius wasted no time in uncorking the brew and pouring a generous amount into the closest mug. To his horror, the distinct odor of the putrid tonic rose in the air, grasping hold of his senses and wringing them silly. No one else seemed to notice however and continued talking in loud, boisterous tones. Lucius, slipping into his cloak along with his sweetest demeanor, offered to take the trio their drinks, a proposition to which the overworked bartender heartily agreed. Smirking to himself, Lucius quickly grabbed the tray and headed to the back table where he hastily offered up the drinks, taking care to make sure that Ron got the special brew, and then strode off to watch the potion take effect from his own corner of the room.