On with the show!


Lucius Malfoy walked with a slight limp as he traveled down the black marble hallways of his home, a stack of books floating beside him. The reason he walked with a limp was because of what had happened in the graveyard not even two weeks ago, a shiver passes down his spine whenever he thinks about it, his lord being revived, the boy and whatever blood magic had been used on him by Dumbledore to turn him into such a monstrous weapon, and…the woman. Lucius has had dealings with a few of the Veela from the continent before, their bloodthirsty nature and open mindset to the darker magics made them almost natural allies to the Death Eaters, but very few were truly trustworthy, always twisting their words about, never telling the whole truth or giving their word about something, but that, and he would hesitate to call it this, woman was something else.

He could still taste the power that rolled off her in waves, like a numbing spell on his tongue the taste of nothing but an end, like he was once again looking into the silver eyes of the boy. How she had shrugged off his lord's curses like they were nothing, how she had talked to them, the death eaters, the true lords of the isle like they were nothing but children playing at a game she had long ago mastered. Lucius had here rumors of people who could not feel shrugging off the Torture curse like it was nothing, he had seen powerful witches and wizards like Bellatrix and his Lord being able to bat away spells with their bare hands, but he had never seen anyone take the killing curse to the chest and only got angry at the one who had cast it.

Then what she had done after it, she had raised the dead from their very graves, those who dabbled in Necromancy were rare but those who had the power and knowledge to utilize it was even rarer like his lord, but it took time to prepare the dead and brew the dark potions that would work in conjunction with the spells and rituals to raise Inferius or the like, but the woman had done it with a wave of her hand "My power, My blessing" she had said, Lucius had always taken the stories of born necromancers with a grain of salt, but the power the woman had shown off, it went beyond the stories his mother had told him to scare him into bed.

But the festering wounds from every bite a cawl mark on him was a testament to the dark power she wielded without a wand, they have to cut away whole chunks of their bodies to be able to heal the wounds and some, like Lucius', had yet to fully heal from the damage done to them, and poor Goyle had succumbed to the wounds that festered and spread like a plague across his body.

Lucius stops outside of the study his lord had taken over in the west wing to use, Narcissa wasn't very happy with hosting the Dark Lord in the manor but held her tongue over it when they dined with him in the evenings and treated him as an honored guest as he was, Lucius raises his cane and raps on the door three times before waiting to be called in, he didn't have to wait long as the door swings inward allowing him entrance into the study.

"My Lord," Lucius greets the pale serpentine man standing before a lecture flipping through the page of an old book with a frown on his face, his scarlet eyes flick to him for a moment before turning back to the book which was all the acknowledgment he had given Lucius as he floats the stack of books to the large oak desk in the middle of the room, "From the Carrows, My Lord, the oldest records of the islands they had in their family archives," he says with a nod of his head as his lord makes a throaty noise of acknowledgment.

"And what of Nott?" his lord asks, not turning around to look at him.

Lucius hesitates for a moment before speaking, "I had gone to Brí Léith earlier today to speak with him but, …" Lucius pauses for a moment, not wanting to be at the end of his lord's wand for delivering him bad news, "It seems the wards have been changed to no longer allowed those who bare your gloriest mark inside the keep any longer," he says and he hears his lord huff in annoyance.

"Did Nott Sr not teach his son proper respect for his lord?" The Dark Lord asks with a scowl.

"I do not think it's that, My Lord," Lucius says in defense of his fallen brother-in-arms, "I believed he tried but Caoimhe tended to step into those lessons and take them over and would teach the boy about the history of the isles before her… unfortunate accident," Lucius says, keeping his face blank as his lord turns to face him fully.

"Accident?" The Dark Lord asks with his brow raised, clearly not believing it.

"That is what's on the Auror reports, my lord, and who am I to disagree with the professional?" Lucius says with a smirk, "If they said Caoimhe, a respected Potioner, accidentally poisoned herself, then who are we to argue, a painful death Strychnine poisoning is, I hear," he says with a carefully blank face, Caoimhe's death was a sad event perhaps if she had stopped to consider her words more carefully or taught her son right, she would still be alive; The only thing that left a bad taste in Lucius' mouth was Theodore Jr had to witness it.

The Dark Lord smirked, "Why argue indeed," He says before turning to the desk and walking over to it before pulling out the top draw and pulling out a sheet of folded parchment, "While I have you here, My Dear Lucius, I require you to file something with the Department of Education with the Ministry," The Dark Lord says before handing the parchment over and Lucius opens it to read, rising one elegant brow at what he says.

"A student transfer from Durmstange to…, I see," Lucius says slowly before folding up the parchment, "I will see this filed immediately and discreetly, of course," he says with a quick bow of his head.

"Good, She will need to be enrolled before this coming school year," the Dark Lord says before moving back to the tome on the lecture.

"If I may ask, My Lord, why do you wish to send her into the heart of the enemy, surely just her last name will cause the old fool to watch her closely," Lucius asks.

"I have talked with her in-depth about an important mission she is to do while there and we came to an arrangement," The Dark Lord states not turning back from his reading, "All I need to do is help her with something before she does this for me,"

"Surely Draco could perform this task more discreetly, whatever it is," Lucius offers, only to get a humorless chuckle from the Dark Lord in return.

"Oh, I very much doubt that, Dear Lucius, unless the boy has switched teams from the fairer sex," The Dark Lord says as he flips a page.

"Switch teams from, …" Lucius says confused for a moment, his brow crinkling before it hits him, "Oh, I see, if that is the case then I wish to withdraw my last statement, My lord," he says, only to watch the Dark Lord wave his hand in dismissal. Lucius bows before the god he was sworn to before turning to leave, but stops just before the door, curiosity burning in him.

"My Lord, if you will permit another question, one of curiosity?" Lucius asks, without turning around.

"You may have one," the Dark Lord permits.

"The books, are you perhaps looking into the Veela from the graveyard?" Lucius asks, turning back to look at his master, who had yet to stop reading.

"Yes," the Dark Lord says, "The name she gave is not unfamiliar to me, but when I first read about them I had just thought they were power witches and wizards that had walked the isles long ago," he says before closing the current book before levitating it back to the desk before summoning one of the books from the stack the Carrows sent, "Our encounter with her now changes my hypothesis to them being Arch-Fae," he tells Lucius.

"Arch-Fae, my Lord?" Lucius asks, sounding lost.

"Beings from beyond the hedge that is said to wield great power, they do not normally walk our world due to their nature of warping reality around them," the Dark Lord states, "Which is why I will need access to the Nott Family Archives, they or the Blacks would have some knowledge about them, but if the boy will not answer to his lord then it will put my research off, for doing a raid this early will not be in our favor," The Dark Lord says as he stops on a page and narrows his eyes.

"Then I will redouble my efforts to talk to the boy as soon as I can, My lord," Lucius says, bowing his head as the Dark Lord waves his hand and opens the door out of the room, and knowing a dismissal when he saw one, he leaves his lord to his research to make sure his Niece would be attending Hogwarts this coming school year.

In the crackling torchlight of the room, Voldemort's long pale fingers travel down the yellowing page of the tome he was reading from, feasting on the information hidden with before stopping on a passage that spoke of a battle that shook the islands between the gods of old, the Tuatha Dé Danann, which named The Morrígan among their numbers, and demons that came from under the sea, The Fomóire and their king was named Balor.

Voldemort's fingers tap against a passage, a clue, somewhere to start his search for how to defeat the woman all he would need to do is find this is Maige Tuired.


One…

(this is it for now, y'all are gonna have to wait for the next book announcement, which is gonna be here in two weeks give or take. For a laugh, check the comments on fanfiction. Net in a few days to see NuadaArgent react to a few words I threw around in this chapter.)