Chapter 2: The Heir of Slytherin
Lucius landed with an unceremonious thump on his arse. Rubbing his sore bottom, he chanced a look around the dim, stone hallway. With a sudden stab of nostalgia, he knew exactly where he was.
"The hidden door to the Slytherin Common Room?!" he exclaimed with a perplexed expression, "But that's impossible!"
His hand went for his wand, but it seemed to be missing. He cursed when he remembered that he'd purposefully left it at the doorway to his study to prevent from accidentally bumping it against one of his more...touchy tomes.
He stared at the wall, racking his brains for the password when he realized that he didn't need it after all.
"I am Lucius Malfoy," he informed the wall in his most authoritative voice, "You will either let me in or you will suffer for your impudence."
The wall did nothing for a very long moment, and Lucius began to feel profoundly stupid for trying to reason with an inanimate piece of stonework, when suddenly, the bricks began to move aside and a narrow passage appeared for him to enter.
Lucius was beside himself with pride at having bullied his way past the wall for the first time in over twenty years, but he did his best to remain composed and guarded. There was an acidic scent in the air that belied a very strong magical signature. It reminded him that all was not what it seemed.
"I know you're in here," he said, trying to ignore the fact that the energy coursing over his skin felt oddly familiar.
"Come in, come in, said the spider to the fly," came the silky reply from within, and Lucius suppressed a shudder.
Whoever was inside had a voice that made him want to obey like a dog, and this troubled him more than words could say.
Entering the Slytherin Common Room with its muted lighting was like coming home, even after more than a decade of having attended school. Lucius squinted to let his eyes focus better in the low lighting. A figure was seated on one of the green velvet couches closest to the roaring fireplace, though he could not see any definite features. He approached the figure and sat opposite in a leather wingback chair, sitting back against the soft leather in an assertive manner. The young man across from him, for it was a young man, was wearing school robes and had a refined way about himself that made Lucius feel somewhat envious. The unknown wizard had dark hair and handsome, youthful features, which only increased the curiosity that Lucius felt, coupled with a deep discomfort and a profound feeling of deja vu that nagged at him incessantly.
"You're one of mine, aren't you?" the young man said, an almost feral smile spreading, knife-like up one side of his face.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Lucius replied, feeling suddenly flustered as his face went a deep shade of crimson.
"You're older than I am," the wizard replied, seemingly more to himself than anything. He extended his hand to shake, "Hello, my name is Riddle. Tom Riddle. I am very pleased indeed to make your acquaintance, Lucius Malfoy."
"Likewise, I'm sure," Lucius replied, trying to meet Tom's dark eyes and faltering at the last moment.
He took Tom's hand and shook it, marveling at the jolt of pleasure that shot up his right arm when their palms pressed together. In a moment, Lucius had leaned forward so far in his chair that he'd nearly fallen out of it, a glazed look spreading across his face as he basked in the unbearable pleasure of Tom's touch.
"I've done well," Tom said softly, using his left index finger to trace the shape of the Dark Mark, which had begun to darken and grow clearer by the second. The snake began to move lazily back and forth through the eye socket of the skull as though waking from a deep sleep.
Lucius moaned audibly as Tom's fingers stroked the Mark until it moved under his skin as though it were alive. His grey eyes had gone half-lidded with the pleasure. Tom smirked at how easily such a proud, obviously powerful man from a Pure-blooded family could be reduced to a slathering servant. Of course, the Mark helped. It responded to his magical signature, so it wasn't as though it was difficult for Tom to reestablish the link. Still, without his wand, Tom was limited in what he could do, and all of those years (at least, he thought it had been years if Abraxas already had a child or grandchild). Tom was not certain which one Lucius was, but that could be solved quite simply as well.
"Look into my eyes, Lucius," he commanded, his young voice thrumming with power.
Lucius raised his head and his eyes went wide as he looked into the dark eyes of the wizard before him. It was then that the remaining part of his mind that still retained some semblance of conscious thought finally realized exactly who he was dealing with, only….it was impossible...wasn't it?
"Master?" he whimpered softly.
Tom grinned and his face seeming to flicker, revealing something unspeakably inhuman in the firelight.
"Call me Lord," he replied, pulling the Mark to his lips and running his tongue over it, tasting the rivulets of power that oozed slowly from it, "Lord Voldemort."
"Yes….yes…." Lucius replied dazedly, "Yes, my Lord. For you, anything."
"Then, my servant," Voldemort replied, "I shall start with your memories. I need to see exactly what I have missed while I have been sleeping."
Lucius was powerless as his mind opened wide at the Dark Lord's command.