A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-two and be on the lookout for chapter forty-three soon!
December 1969
"I have to say, Lestrange, I didn't think that you had it in you," Abraxas Malfoy said, handing Rodolphus his flask and offering him a pull. "I guess you have more of the ruthlessness of your father in you after all."
Rodolphus took a swig and recognized Abraxas's expensive firewhiskey that he'd knicked at Lucius and Narcissa's engagement party, needing a moment to steel himself. "Yeah, well, I was tired of no one taking me seriously."
He still wasn't able to get the picture of Hermione's lifeless body out of his head. A dead muggleborn found at the entrance of Knockturn Alley was enough to warrant a small blurb on the front page of the Daily Prophet, but he couldn't believe that they'd published a photo. Her face was unmistakable in the brief moment before an angry looking auror shoved his hand into the camera lens.
Rodolphus had to retreat to his room to cry after seeing his father's pleased looking face. He didn't know how Weasley and Dumbledore had pulled it off, but he couldn't allow himself to think that they might have actually killed her. They had promised that they would take care of it, but he didn't think they meant they would actually take care of her. They couldn't have possibly meant that, but he hadn't been able to get in contact with Weasley to ask.
"Well, no worries about that now," Abraxas said with a smirk. "I think that you've impressed most of them - even Rosier, and he's done some twisted things...things you wouldn't believe. I'm sure he is pissed that your father has already moved onto the Greengrasses to find you a wife."
The younger wizard took another swig out of the flask before handing it back to Malfoy. He wondered why the other man was taking such an interest in him, but knew that Malfoy was primarily interested in getting ahead in life. Rodolphus wondered if he even really shared the conviction that many of the other Death Eaters did. "I doubt he thinks I am that much of a catch. Everyone still knows that I dated a muggleborn."
"Don't sell yourself short, Rodolphus," Abraxas encouraged, leaning his back against the wall.
Rodolphus wished that he could slip away from the Yule party, but his father was hosting once again and it would be noted if his own son wasn't there. All the Death Eaters were there, and even the Dark Lord was in attendance to partake in ancient pureblood traditions, celebrating the return of the sun. Rodolphus hoped that this would be the beginning of the end of the darkness in his life, too.
"The Dark Lord was very pleased with you as well," Abraxas said. "He asked to see you sometime tonight. Sounds like he has some sort of present to give you."
"That sounds ominous," Rodolphus countered, remembering the last time that Voldemort had wanted to see him on his own. Hermione. His heart ached.
Abraxas smirked. "Don't worry, it's not. You would know if he was upset with you, trust me."
"You? What have you ever done to upset him?" Rodolphus asked, thinking that Abraxas had seemed closest to the Dark Lord, being the public face of the policies that he wanted to enact, using his considerable fortune to push things through in the Wizengamot.
"Oh yes, I've misplaced something of his, unfortunately. He was so furious, I can still remember the feeling of his Cruciatus," Abraxas counted, with a scowl on his face. "I thought that he'd treat me with a little more dignity, but I suppose there are consequences to every action."
Rodolphus was surprised to hear that the Dark Lord would use the Cruciatus on his own followers, but he knew he shouldn't be at this point. It was no secret that he relished the use of the Unforgivable Curses.
Abraxas took another drink out of the flask, letting the silence spill between them. Rodolphus wasn't sure what his angle could be, but he could recognize that he had an ally in the elder Malfoy. For a brief moment, he even felt a little bit badly for thinking that Lucius was such a little shit.
"I wouldn't keep him waiting...you might just find that his good mood evaporates," Abraxas finally said. "He said he'd be waiting in your library."
Trying to fight back an internal groan, Rodolphus nodded in appreciation and slipped out down the hallway to walk towards the library. He'd hoped that he'd be able to avoid both the Dark Lord and Bellatrix this evening, not wanting to hear their praise for killing Hermione, knowing that it would crush him far too much.
The Dark Lord was reading through a book of Lestrange family history, having made himself quite at home. "Malfoy said you wanted to see me," he said, getting the older man's attention. "I came as soon as I heard."
"Rodolphus," the Dark Lord said with a smile, showing off his crooked teeth. "Yes, I wanted to make sure that I told you how...proud I am of you for taking the task that I gave you so seriously. I know that it must have taken a lot of conviction, but I am impressed with your commitment to pure wizarding blood. Centuries of Lestrange family breeding has been protected."
The younger man thought that was an odd thing to say. He couldn't understand the suggestion that killing Hermione would somehow keep his family's lineage pure. "Thank you, my Lord," Rodolphus said.
"Don't worry - killing gets easier each time that you do it," Voldemort added with a laugh.
Rodolphus forced himself to smile, if only to hide the grimace that threatened to show. "If you say so, my Lord," he said, thinking that he would never find it easy to take the life of someone else. "I only wanted to show my commitment to your cause."
"And you have proved your loyalty brilliantly," the Dark Lord said, standing up, beginning to pace around the room. "Bellatrix insisted that you wouldn't have it in you to kill your mudblood. I know that Miss Granger must have been a delight to you."
Keeping silent, Rodolphus focused on the crack and pop of the firewood in the hearth, not sure what to say. He wanted to shout that Bellatrix was right - there was no way that he'd ever be able to kill Hermione on his own, and he would have been outed as the blood traitor that he was.
"Since you've proved yourself so loyal to me, doing what I ask without question, I am going to give you another task," the Dark Lord said, cracks in his genial mood beginning to show. "This is a task of the highest honor, but the most important part of it, is to keep it absolutely secret. You won't even be able to tell your father what I've asked you to do."
Rodolphus felt a shudder threatening to run up his spine. "Any way that I can serve you, my Lord, I will do my utmost to fulfill," he promised, wondering what kind of mess he was getting into.
"I know that you will," Voldemort said, smiling. "I promise that this task will be relatively painless for you, though. I have an...artifact that I need to have kept hidden. No one can know that you have it," he said.
"What type of artifact?" he asked, unable to help himself.
"Best not to be too curious about it," the Dark Lord countered, before reaching into his voluminous robe sleeves and pulling out a small golden cup. "But if you must know, it's simply a cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff."
Rodolphus held out his hand, waiting for the other man to hand it over. "Just a cup? I'm afraid that I don't understand, my Lord," he lied.
"I'm not asking you to understand, Rodolphus," he answered, through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed by all of the questions. "All I am asking you to do is to hide this Cup for me and guard it with your life if you must."
After another moment of silence, Voldemort finally pressed the Cup into Rodolphus's hand. His red eyes were boring into Rodolphus's face, perhaps looking for any sign of recognition. "Thank you for trusting me with this task."
"Hopefully you will do better than some of your brethren. Malfoy proved utterly useless in this regard," Voldemort revealed. "And you won't like the punishment if you fail like he did."
"I wouldn't dream of it, my Lord. I will...put it in my family's vault at Gringotts," he said, thinking on his feet. "It's vast and the cup can be easily hidden amongst its treasure. The security that the goblins provide is second to none, especially in an old vault like my family's."
The Dark Lord looked impressed at the suggestion. "That should be adequate."
"And, any time that you wish to have it back, you simply let me know and I can take you to it," Rodolphus promised.
"Perhaps, once it's safely there, you should forget that you even have it," the Dark Lord suggested.
Rodolphus nodded, before hiding the cup in his own pocket. "Of course. If you don't mind, I will leave now and put it away for safekeeping until I can get to the bank," he said, needing to put some separation between himself and the Dark Lord once again, if only to still his racing heart. "Might I suggest that you return to the party - the ceremony is about to begin and father has promised that this year's entertainment will be the best yet."
Once he was given leave, Rodolphus hurried down the hallway and up his family's grand staircase to his room. Locking the door behind him, he sat on the bed and dug in his pocket to pull the cup back out. There was no denying that the Cup was more than merely an artifact. It had the telltale sign of dark magic all over it, just like the Diary had.
He knew then that this was the reason that Weasley and Dumbledore had asked him to hang tight and continue to do what he was doing. He knew that the reason they had to lead the world to think that Hermione was dead was to prove his loyalty to the dark wizard so that he might have access to another item. Rodolphus just couldn't believe that it had actually worked.
Pressing a hand to his chest, Rodolphus fell back on his bed, knowing that he had to get in contact with Weasley as soon as possible to pass off the dark artifact and hope that they would be able to deal with it before Voldemort asked for the Cup back. He didn't want to think of the curses he would have to endure if he had to tell the Dark Lord that he'd lost it.
Then, maybe he would be able to see Hermione again and finally apologize to her for the way that he acted. Even if she wouldn't take him back because of the brand on his arm, he could only hope that she would listen to him and let him explain how he knew that he was wrong. He knew now that he would shout his love for her in the middle of Diagon Alley if she asked it of him.
For the first time in months, a true feeling of hope sprang up in his chest.
Placing the cup in his bedside table, Rodolphus set a series of wards on it, so that no one would find it. Then, he knew that he had to return to the party before his father noticed his absence and accused him of sulking again.
When he returned, the feast was already laid out and the wizards were filing in. Abraxas Malfoy met his gaze across the table, and there was a glint in his eye that seemed to suggest he knew exactly what the Dark Lord had asked him to do.
Hopefully that wouldn't become a problem.