The Power He Knew Not

Lucius Malfoy woke with a start. He grimaced at the pounding headache that assaulted his senses the moment he opened his eyes. He was very familiar with the feeling of this headache. He was stunned and then enervated, forcefully with a spell. He swallowed the groan that was on the verge of spilling out of his lips and took a glance around the place he was in. It was a dark, cavernous place, sparsely lit with a few torches. The air was humid and there was a stench of decay permitting in it. Lucius had no idea where he was, the last cognitive memory he had was that of him and his 'associates' chasing down the Potter brat and his friends when they were ambushed by those damnable Order members.

"Nice of you to join the land of the living, dear Lucy." A voice rang out from a darkened corner of wherever the place Lucius found himself to be in.

He struggled against his binds as he tried to sit up. It proved futile as he was sure that he was bound by magical means, which gave no leverage for his bound self to use.

"Who are you? Come out of the darkness and face me like a man." Lucius growled.

"Face you like a man?" the voice sounded highly amused, "That is rich coming from you, Lucius. Wasn't it you who tried to kill off a group of fifteen years old? Along with your merry bunch of Death Nibblers? Did you feel very manly then, Lucy boy, when you are flinging curses as grown-ups against those who just sat through their OWLs? Two amongst them were even a year younger."

"Who are you?" Lucius yelled as he was having a premonition that things were not in his favour, "How did you manage to get me out of the Ministry holding cells? Did the Dark Lord send you?"

"Hold on to your horses, Lucy. I will come and greet you as soon as I am finished with my task here."

What task? – Lucius wanted to scream, but he didn't. He was a Malfoy, after all. He would never stoop so low as to behave like a common Mudblood.

"The Dark Lord will reward you very generously, my dear man," for it was a male voice that was talking with him, Lucius understood that much, "he will appreciate of you liberating one of his most trusted servants. But I must ask, what of the others? Didn't you get them out too?"

"So many questions and leaps of logic there, Lucy." The voice mocked him, "You just confessed that you are indeed a Death Eater. What? Are you not going to plead innocence this time? Pretending to be under the Imperius?"

Damn it, Lucius swore under his breath, he really screwed up there. He didn't even know the identity of the voice and he just blurted out about the Dark Lord. Well, in his defence, he was scared out of his wits. He had seen and done many things during the first part of the war, but he always managed to slip out of his confines, using words or gold. He was prepared to cry a river when Fudge inevitably was going to put him on a trial, but he never expected to be knocked out, and forced to wake up in a very eerie place. It was the place that threw him off his strides. The headache was now a more manageable throb against his skull due to his Occlumency skills. He was not as skilful as Severus or the Dark Lord, but his skill was nothing to scoff about. But the shield was not good enough to keep out the ardent sense of wrongness that was this place. It shouldn't be possible, because Lucius was no stranger to the Dark Arts. But the chill down his spine was something he never experienced before, not even in the presence of the Dark Lord.

His reverie cut short with the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. Whoever it was who sprung him from the Ministry hold and had him bound like a pig, was finally finished with whatever the task he was performing.

He felt his body rise up from the ground, he didn't hear any incantation, and there was no hostility from the caster. Lucius had his hopes bolstered with the thought that he would make it back to his home in one piece.

Unfortunately, his line of thought came to a screeching halt as soon as his eyes fell on his abductor.

"Potter!?" He blurted out disbelievingly.

There was no mistake with the identity of the youth standing before him, smirking the way like he was in the know of some secret about Lucius and was enjoying every second of it. Lucius wanted to snarl at him, but something about the boy's posture made him take another look at the youth.

Potter was the same as the time he encountered him and his friends in the Department of Mystery. He was quite pale and short and looked malnourished when he first came back to the Wizarding world. But the ensuing years had done wonders for the boy. He was still slim, but not weak, Lucius could discern some muscle mass about the boy's physic. He was wound tightly like a rope. He was still short compared to his Draco or the Weasley or Longbottom boy, but neither James Potter nor Lily Evans was too tall, to begin with. He was becoming his father's duplicate more and more as the days passed, except for the eyes. He had inherited his mother's emerald eyes – not unlike the colour of the Killing Curse. Lucius shivered as he looked into those eyes.

And speaking of the Killing Curse, the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead was…not the same as before. It looked like a red, throbbing painful reminder of his first encounter with the Dark Lord the last time Lucius saw the youth, but now, the scar was barely there. One wouldn't even notice it if they didn't know it was there.

"Hiya there, Lucy, glad to finally see my face?"

"Potter," Lucius snarled at the impudent youth, "what did you do? How did you manage to get me out of the Ministry? Release me at once or when the Dark Lord hears about this -"

His rant was stopped by the cackling of the boy. Potter was bent double laughing like a mad man. Lucius could only stare at him disbelievingly.

"Oh man, I needed that." Potter stuttered out in between his bouts of cackling, "Did you teach Draco your brand of threats and posturing? You just sounded like him, you know? 'Wait till my father hears about this!'" He lost it again after he delivered the uncanny, high-pitched imitation of Draco's voice.

"Draco threats any and everyone with the 'my father' bit, and you just did the same with your 'Dark Lord' bit. Tell me something, Lucy, do you see ol' Tommy as your father? What, Abraxus Malfoy wasn't much of a man for you?"

"Don't you dare talk about my father, Potter!" Lucius yelled at the teen.

But Potter was far from being deterred. With his infernal smirk still stretched over his lips, he reached out and patronisingly patted Lucius' cheek, "Touchy, touchy, Lucy. Don't you look all cute in your rage? Tell me the truth, is this how you seduced Narcissa? Because come on, face the facts, she is this stone cold fox and you are…well, you. If I off you here and now, do you think I have a chance with her? She is the ultimate wet dream." Potter shivered as he gazed into the distance. Lucius unleashed a string of curses as he struggled against his binds, hung above the ground.

"Well, we will find that out soon enough. Come on, Lucy, we have much to attend to today." Potter waved his wand as he turned around and strode away, Lucius followed along, floating about five feet off the ground, like a very disturbing balloon.

"Where are we, Potter?" He still couldn't shake off the unease this place making him feel.

"Don't you recognize it? For shame, Lucy, for shame. But fear not, I will quench your thirst for knowledge like the all-around good bloke that I am." Potter gave him a mocking wink, Lucius seethed futilely.

"This, my dear Lucy, is the fabled Chamber of Secret. The hidden room within and deep underneath the Hogwarts castle that your house' founder, Salazar Slytherin had created." Potter waved his hands around grandiosely, Lucius realized with a start that he was now able to move his head. Potter not only had him bound, but he also had him under partial petrification and allowed him just then the use of his neck. How did the boy know about such advanced magic? – Lucius couldn't help but wonder.

"And that, Lucy, was the basilisk that you planned on setting loose inside of the school." Potter continued, and Lucius felt the horror when his eyes fell upon the dead monstrosity that the boy indicated. His audible gasp made Potter turn around and face him once more.

"Pissed your pants, did you? And here I was thinking you Death Munchers are made of sturdier stuff." Potter sneered at him, "I mean, it was you who planted the diary on a young girl of eleven, did you not? Or do I still have to 'prove it' as you demanded that year?" Lucius couldn't tear his eyes off the monster Potter showed him. It was by far, the biggest snake that Lucius had seen in his life.

"Ol' Tommy sure knows how to pick his servants, did he not? I mean, on one hand, we have Bellatrix LeStrange, that woman is crazier than a bag full of cats. And then, on the other hand, we have you, Lucius Malfoy, the arrogant bastard, and I still can't believe it but the husband of the hottest piece of arse, who thought he could get rid of the Mudbloods by letting loose this monster inside of the same school his son attends. What did you think, that the snake would recognize your son's inbred status and would spare him?" Potter shook his head, "Silly Lucy, a meatsack is a meatsack to a hungry beast, it doesn't discriminate on the blood status like you pricks."

Lucius couldn't believe it - this was the solution his Master promised him to get rid of the Mudbloods from the school? He was feeling quite lucky because the Dark Lord didn't ask him about the diary during the past year. He was busy enough to re-establish his powerbase and revitalize the old contacts once again. Also, he was planning on how to get inside the Hall of Prophecies. But now, Lucius was feeling thankful that Potter managed to kill that snake when he did. He never even imagined the danger his son was in that year. Another question crept up in his mind – how did Potter manage to kill it? He was a mere boy of twelve then.

"H-how…?" Lucius managed to stammer out.

"How did I kill the basilisk?"

Lucius could only nod stiffly.

"With a sword, if you can believe it. And not just any sword, but Godric Gryffindor's sword. Stabbed it in the roof of its mouth. The bloody thing still managed to get me." Potter rolled up his right sleeve to show the scar of the size of a Galleon on his forearm, "It hurt like hell, Lucy, I kid you not."

Lucius could only stare at the boy, the basilisk bit him and yet, he was still alive? He killed that ginormous beast at the age of twelve with a sword – with Gryffindor's sword. The previous year – the year Potter returned to the Wizarding World and took out the Dark Lord once again if the rumours that floated around that year held any modicum of truth in them. Then, on his third year, again the rumour had it that the boy chased off about a hundred dementors with his Patronus. He was forced into and won the Tri-Wizard Tournament at the age of fourteen and he himself had seen him going toe to toe with the Dark Lord even when he was put under the Cruciatus Curse more than once. And just a couple of days ago, Potter had managed to stall him and his acquaintances – each of them was the marked follower of the Dark Lord - with nothing more than the schoolyard spells. For the first time in his life, Lucius suspected that he had made a mistake and backed the wrong wizard.

"How are you still alive?"

Potter raised an eyebrow to that question, "From the basilisk venom?"

From every fucking thing – Lucius wanted to scream at the boy, but all he could do was give him a nod.

"My dear Lucy," Potter drawled in the condescending way that Lucius was ashamed to admit even to himself sounded much better than when he did it, "do you think that a mere basilisk can defeat me? Me, Harry Potter? I am the Boy Who Lived, I have gone much further than anyone in history had even dreamt of to ensure my immortality."

This time, Lucius really pissed his pants. The tremor that started from the base of his spine, travelled to every part of his body. Harry Potter had achieved more than the Dark Lord in terms of Dark Arts? He just admitted so. Granted that the Dark Lord had a terrifying familiar in Nagini, but even that ritually enhanced snake – it didn't matter that she was a Maladictus – wasn't as poisonous as a basilisk. And Harry Potter had killed it, the millennia-old snake with a sword and had come out alive with its venom coursing through his veins. Lucius was sure that the Dark Lord could never achieve that.

He was once again startled by the sound of Potter's cackling.

"Oh, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. You should've seen your face. Do you think I would go down the same path that Tommy did? You disappoint me, Lucy. And I am sure you'd disappoint Tommy too. Do you mean to tell me that you already forgot Tommy's magnanimous speech at his resurrection party? Shame on you, Lucy, for being such an addled-minded follower." Potter shook his head in mock sorrow.

Lucius could slap himself if he was able to, Potter had once more, managed to go under his defences with apparent ease and played him like a fiddle. What exactly the boy was after – he wondered.

"Why do you keep calling him Tommy?"

Potter slapped a hand on his forehead, his mien was the perfect example of bemusement.

"You mean to say that you don't know? Why, Lucy, the name T. M. Riddle was embossed on the diary itself. Sheh, talk about being a brain-dead follower. Well, let me educate you to the finer points of your own miserable life."

Potter brought out his wand and waved it, in fiery letters, a name appeared in the air –

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Potter waved his wand again and the arrangement of the letters changed to form –

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Lucius felt his jaw drop. The Dark Lord's name was a bloody anagram?

"Do you know of any Pureblood family with the last name Riddle?" Potter asked.

Lucius could only shake his head in negative.

"And you would never because Riddle isn't a Pureblood name, it's a Muggle surname. Yes, Lucy, your precious Dark Lord has Muggle origin. Bet you didn't know that, did you?"

Lucius was still looking at the fiery phrase in the air.

"Tom Riddle was an alumnus of the Slytherin House from the Forties'. He had no idea about his origin because he grew up in an orphanage. You see, Tom Marvolo Riddle was the name his mother gave him before her last breath, just after giving birth, on the night of 31st December 1926.

Now, His mother was from a Pureblood family, there is no doubt about that, but she was a squib. You know about the Gaunts, don't you? Highly unstable family, down on their luck because of their ill temper and incestualized beliefs. They were a proud bunch of pricks who thought that they were descended from the Slytherin bloodline, because of their apparent ability to speak Parseltongue and a few knickknacks with the Slytherin sigil. The last of the Gaunts were Marvolo Gaunt, his son Morfin and daughter Merope. While Morfin was a wizard, albeit, with little to no magical power, Merope was born a squib. None of the siblings attended Hogwarts, as I am sure you have guessed. Merope fell in love with a local noble heir, Tom Riddle Sr. One day, when her father and brother were arrested by the Ministry because they tortured some of the Muggles nearby, Merope took her chance and snared Tom Senior with a love potion."

Potter stopped speaking and frowned at something, Lucius was still looking at the air where the letters hung about before dissipating.

"I shouldn't talk ill about a dead and a mother, but Merope was a victim of generations after generations of inbreeding. She wasn't even given a chance in her life, poor woman. After their elopement, when Merope became pregnant, she stopped feeding love potion to Tom Senior. The poor sod thought that the blighter would stay with her for the sake of their child. But Tom Senior took one look at his supposed 'bride' and scampered back to his parents. Merope, seeing no other way, sold off what little she managed to take along with her and in the end, gave birth in an orphanage, living long enough to name her son – Tom after the father, Marvolo after her own father, and Riddle as the surname."

Potter reached up and patted Lucius on his head, "How does it feel, Lucy, knowing that the man you sold yourself to, not only is a half-blood bastard but of the lowest kind? I mean, I am a half-blood myself, but my mother was a witch, and damn powerful one to boot. People say that she was the brightest witch of her age. Feeling good? Knowing that you have been marked as cattle and killing your own kind on the whims of a deranged half-blood who played a prank on you all based on your own stupid bigotry? You are the worst kind of Blood Traitors."

Lucius was thinking hard and fast. Was what Potter telling him the truth? Then again, what would the boy gain from lying to him? From the looks of their situation, Potter had him at his mercy, he didn't boast about his powers like the Dark Lord would have done in his place. He just poked fun at him and his beliefs and shattered his trust in the Dark Lord and drooled after his wife.

"Why are you telling me all these, Potter?"

"Simple, because you will not be able to do anything about it. Because today is the last day you will live as Lucius Malfoy." Potter's smile turned feral.

Lucius was panicking once again, "What are you going to do with me?" He struggled futilely against his bonds, but to no avail. He didn't even realize when Potter removed the petrification from him. The boy seemed to have been petrifying him on and off just to see him struggle. Lucius was thinking hard about how he could escape this situation. He tried to utter the Dark Lord's name because speaking the name in the vicinity of the Dark Mark, would make it heard by the Lord. But to his dismay, he found that his lips sealed shut the moment he tried to speak the name out loud.

"You think I didn't know about Tommy's little trick with the Mark?" Potter was cackling once again, "Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. Did you think you are the only Death Nibbler that I nabbed? You are wrong. Look over there," Potter indicated towards the basilisk, Lucius' whole body floated along and came to a stop just a few feet away from its massive carcass. But his eyes fell upon something that he hadn't noticed before. A dried-out husk, right beside the snake – a human husk.

"Meet Antonin Dolohov, well, it was him at one point, now meet what remains of Antonin Dolohov."

This time, Lucius not only pissed his pants but shat too. Antonin Dolohov was the former World Champion duellist. His prowess with a wand didn't diminish even after spending over a decade in Azkaban. And here, Potter was telling him that he had kidnapped him along with Lucius and did something to him that left only a dried-out husk behind?

"Yeah, it was Dolohov. You didn't think I would overlook the fact that he cursed the woman I love to the death's doors? Not on your life. Besides, I needed an oik to experiment on. And who better than Dolohov here to do that too. He couldn't last after I squeezed out every bit of knowledge from both his brain and his Dark Mark, hence his husky appearance."

Lucius looked at the boy incredulously.

"What? I love 'Mione. Didn't your shitstain of a son tell you that? Or are you thrown out of the loop because I insinuated that I lust your wife? Well, between you and me, what Hermione doesn't know, won't hurt me. Besides, she drooled over Lockhart first. Then there was Victor Krum."

Potter turned away from the mummy that was once Antonin Dolohov, humming some tune. Lucius floated after him, finding himself petrified once more, and silenced too. He didn't even see Potter taking out his wand.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. The reason I sprung you from the cage. Tommy Boy and you lot have made it quite clear that you won't rest till Hermione and everyone like her is put to the ground. I take offence at that. You believe that magic is your bitch and only your lot have the right to wield it. I believe it is a privilege granted to a select few by a higher being, perhaps Lady Magic herself… who knows?

Anyways, the first time I met Tom, he told me something. An innocent child that I was back then, didn't understand it, but now I believe those words – there are no light or dark magic, only power and those who are too weak to wield it. I believe it now. Amazing, innit Lucy? Whoda thought that Tommy was capable of teaching me something, seeing how screwed up his brain is."

Potter led the way to a circle of runic arrays. It was clearly a ritual ground. Lucius had taken Ancient Runes when he was at Hogwarts, but he couldn't, for the life of him, understand any single symbol from the circle.

"For all his boasting and bravado, Tommy only scratched the surface of the subject that is the Dark Arts. His first foray into it was when he was in school and came down here to unleash the basilisk. He found a small library that belonged to Salazar himself just beyond the basilisk's nest, and he thought that was it, the fool.

Do you know, Dumbledore thinks that me being a Parselmouth was Tommy's doing? Heh, shows you that even the great Albus Dumbledore can be wrong. He didn't know that both of my parents were Parselmouths."

Even in his panic, Lucius looked at him with surprise.

"Yeah, twisted my brain too, that did. Before my Third Year, I found journals that belonged to both of my parents. It appeared that my father inherited his ability from his mother, Dorea Potter Nee Black. The Blacks were famous for their abilities with Parseltounge and Metamorphmagi. You know about that, don't you, Lucy? Your sister-in-law did give birth to the latest Metamorphmagus on record.

But the googly was my mother being a Parselmouth. A Muggleborn with that ability, unheard of, don't you agree? I thought so too. Thought it was a special blessing from Lady Magic for her. But then, I came down here, just to appease my curiosity. And what do you know, I stumbled upon a little blood ward just beyond Slytherin's small library. A blood ward that would deter anyone, not of the Salazar's direct blood from noticing his secret workstation and library… and his magical portrait. It turns out that only one family in the wizarding world has eyes this green. It was quite a shock, I tell you, to see Salazar Slytherin, sitting in his portrait but having quite the similar features that I inherited from my mother, including the eyes."

Potter's smile was full-blown now, almost manic, "In short, Lily Evans was the first magical in centuries from a forgotten squib line from Salazar Slytherin's direct bloodline. It turned out that I am indeed the Heir of Slytherin after all." The cackling of the boy echoed throughout the vast chamber.

"Now, Riddle learned quite a bit from Salazar's collection, and then he perfected it over his travel. But he missed out on the true treasure because he was just a pretender, whereas I am the true heir. And I have learned from the Master himself, er…his portrait self. But I can guarantee you, what I now know about the Dark Arts, Riddle could never even think in his wildest dreams. It took me a while to learn and still remain under the radar from Dumbledore. But finally, I succeed. But the long time it took, cost me dearly, it cost me my godfather and my last hope for a stable family.

I want revenge, Lucy. I want revenge from all of you Death Munchers who think that they are the sleekest shit. I want revenge from your Master, Tommy. You know, the prophecy you were trying to get from us, I finally know what it says. Let me enlighten you, Lucy –

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches…

Dumbledore thinks it is my power of love that Tommy doesn't know. I call bullshit. The power is the power of the Dark Arts. I can now wield it fully with the blessing of my Master, Salazar Slytherin. While Tommy only scraped the bottom of the cauldron. He created Horcruxes and thought himself to be immortal. To his bad luck, one of his slivers of soul was slipped within my scar. It was a right pain in the arse to remove and subsequently put into this necklace here."

Potter pulled out a golden necklace from his pocket, the bright red ruby from its locket glinted malevolently in the torchlight. Potter put the necklace down inside the ritual circle, right at the head of the pentagram. The other five points were now occupied by some things that Lucius once again didn't notice before.

Potter reached out and ripped the sleeves of Lucius' robe. He tapped the ropes that bound him once with his finger and they fell away. But Lucius was still unable to move a single muscle. Potter put a bind right below his elbow and slapped the Dark Mark a few times. The vein beneath the tattoo became visible by Potter's ministration. He put a needle right into it, the needle was attached to some sort of pipe which ended in a large cauldron. Potter repeated the same process with his right arm, but instead of a cauldron, the pipe was attached to a bottle with some liquid in it. As far as Lucius could tell, the liquid was Blood Replenishing Potion. Before his disbelieving eyes, the empty cauldron started to fill with his blood. Potter sat down in a conjured chair and leaned back lazily.

"This particular ritual required an entire clan because of the sheer amount of blood needed to complete it. But with a little Muggle ingenuity, I can do it with a single man. Congratulations, Lucy. You are the first to experience one of my modified rituals. Now, let me tell you the prizes you've won for your participation.

You see, Lucy, you are partially responsible for the death of Sirius Black, and hence you are responsible for my lack of a proper family. It is only right that I take your family from you.

Next, I want to make the world a better place for my beloved. Hermione deserves the best. For her to flourish and become the brilliant woman that I know she will be one day, Tommy and his ilk are needed to go. Balance, Lucy, balance. It is as simple as that.

At the end of the ritual, you will become my puppet, in every sense. I will be able to control you, see through your eyes, hear through your ears and can even perform magic through you. You will neither be an inferius nor a golem, but something in between. All curses would just roll off of you. You will become invulnerable to everything save Fiendfyre. But alas, you will not be able to capitulate from it. On the bright note, there will be a little conscience of your present self, but that will only be an echo of you, not what you are now. Just imagine it, I will remain safe in my dormitory, while you, dear Lucy, will be running around doing my bidding just the way I want it. Ain't magic beautiful? You, bigots, think it is just a tool and lost the ability to be amazed at its beauty. But fear not, if there is another life for you after this one, pray to Lady Magic that you are not born as the fucktard you are now.

Well, that is all, I suppose. You will start feeling very sleepy right about now. See the runes glowing? It means the ritual is beginning. Goodbye, Lucy, I want to say that it's been nice knowing you, but I don't want to send you off with a lie. So how about, 'piss off, you pompous fuck', instead?"

Lucius couldn't reply, he tried to beg Potter but his eyes were becoming very heavy. Soon, there was only darkness.