A Malfoy's Problem: Part I
Title: A Malfoy's Problem
Rating: PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa
Era: Marauder-Era, Vold-War I
Summary: Dragons, vampires, hospitals, and riddles all combine together to give Lucius Malfoy a trying experience as he seeks out the answer to a plaguing problem: How to get his magic back.
~*~
Part I
The bright orange sun was starting its descent below the horizon on one of the hottest days of the year. Even the slight breeze that blew throughout the land was warm. No sounds could be heard, until the intense silence was broken by a slight crack.
A tall wizard materialised out of nowhere in front of a pair of barred iron gates. Pushing a loose strand of his long, blond hair from his pale face, Lucius Malfoy watched as a short, round man hurried up the path towards him. When he reached the gates, the short man withdrew a wand and, muttering a few incantations under his breath, admitted Lucius into the compound.
“Mr. Malfoy,” exclaimed the short man, extending his hand in greeting, “it’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Lucius shook the man’s hand briefly, giving a slight nod of the head. The two wizards began their trek towards the main building, the short man prattling on and on the entire time.
“Name’s Pete Harrison,” he said, pausing to see if his companion would answer. Lucius did not. “As Head of Dragomirna Dragon Preserve, I’d just like to thank you personally for your family’s generous donations to our work. It’s really ---”
Lucius tuned Pete out. The man’s voice was quite annoying, to be honest, and hearing Pete’s voice increased Lucius’s already-present headache. His day hadn’t been great so far, and having to be out in the heat of the day at a dragon preserve in Romania didn’t help.
And if it had been completely up to me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here, Lucius thought. It was only because of the Dark Lord that he had left the comfort of his manor to head to Romania and find an old acquaintance.
Matilda Roshgarth. Quite intelligent and only a year behind him, Matilda had always had a soft spot for magical creatures. She and Narcissa had been close during their time at Hogwarts, which was the main way Lucius knew her. But it wasn’t because of Narcissa that Lucius was seeking Matilda out today.
The Dark Lord wants something from her, he mused, but no matter how often he tried to come up with an answer, he honestly had no idea why Matilda. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as Pete’s voice intruded.
“So, what brings you to the preserve today, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Harrison, letting his guest enter the main entrance first.
“I’m here to speak with Matilda Roshgarth,” said Lucius. “There are some things I need to speak with her about.”
Pete Harrison nodded and, getting the distinct impression that it would be unwise, didn’t push the issue. Instead, he turned to a thin, black-haired witch at a desk next to him.
“Good evening, Sasha,” he said, a sweet smile plastered on his face. “Can you tell me where I might find Matilda? There’s a guest here who’d like to speak with her.”
“Roshgarth left with Hudson about fifteen minutes ago,” the witch responded. “They’re doing further immunizations.”
When she’d finished, Pete turned back to face Lucius. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but it appears like she’s not in right now. You’re welcome to ---”
“Where is she?” demanded Lucius, his voice now harsh. He had had enough. He was going to be home in a few hours, not spend some undetermined amount of time waiting on a witch to show up.
“She’s out with the dragons, but ---”
Lucius didn’t wait for Harrison to finish. He turned quickly and left the building, entering the heat once again. He caught sight of several broomsticks leaning against the wall and, grabbing what looked like the best one, mounted and flew off into the sky.
It felt a bit cooler as he flew over the compound, his eyes spotting numerous dragons of many breeds slumbering below him. Finally, though, he saw something other than a dragon. A witch --- obviously Matilda, thought Lucius --- stood in front of an angry and awake Welsh Green. Lucius scanned the ground around the witch, only to see a destroyed broomstick and a disguarded wand.
As the dragon reared up, ready to strike, Lucius turned his broom around and headed back towards the compound. He quickly dismounted and, spotting another dragon tamer, approached. A slight scowl appeared on his face, however, as his path was intercepted by Pete Harrison.
“Mr. Malfoy,” said Pete, “did you find Matilda?”
“As a matter of fact, I did, and I suggest you send people out to assist her right away, as she’s currently facing off a Welsh Green dragon.”
Pete just stood there for a moment, almost like he couldn’t believe what Lucius had said. Come on, you incompetent fool, the blond-haired wizard thought. Finally, though, Pete’s senses seemed to return to him and the short man began shouting orders to several workers around him, telling them to find Matilda.
The dragon tamers took off immediately, their brooms zooming through the air towards their endangered colleague, but even as he watched them, Lucius had a strong feeling that it was too late.
Lucius massaged his head for a brief moment, his headache even worse than before. Pete’s voice intruding into his thoughts also didn’t help the matter at all.
“Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?” he asked, frowning up at his guest as the blond-haired man held his pounding head in his hands.
“Fine,” Lucius spat out, allowing his cool composure to disappear for a moment before regaining control, continuing with, “It’s just a slight headache.” And you’re strongly wearing on my already-limited patience.
Pete Harrison seemed slightly unconvinced as he surveyed Lucius. “You should probably lie down for a bit, Mr. Malfoy,” said Pete hesitantly. “There are extra beds in the building, and I believe we also have something for your headache.”
Lucius sighed. He had no idea what made him agree to Pete’s suggestion, but he had. Within ten minutes, Lucius had gone from standing next to Pete outside the reserve’s main building to reclining back in a large four-poster bed; his headache was already getting better.
He’d already sent a quick message to Narcissa, telling her he wouldn’t be back until the next day. Pete Harrison had left Lucius in peace, an act that the latter was pleased with, and he soon drifted off to sleep; not even thoughts of Matilda or the Dark Lord were capable of keeping him awake.
----
When Lucius next opened his grey eyes, it was to see a bright, sun-filled room around him. He jerked up from his relaxed position, grabbing his watch, which read “noon,” and Lucius immediately rose from his bed.
Noises came floating into his room as he got ready, and as the volume increased, Lucius scowled. He had thought his headache was completely gone, but that turned out to be a mistaken thought. It increased its pounding as the clamour of voices increased.
What’s going on? Lucius thought as he walked towards his door. It was then, with his hand ready to open the door, that everything of the past night came back to him. Matilda’s body, he thought.
Lucius opened the door, though, just to be sure that Matilda was the reason for all the noise. What he saw, however, was not exactly what he had expected.
Hundreds of wizards and witches ran up and down the corridors and across the lobbies. Doors opened and closed all around Lucius as people went in and out. But perhaps one of the oddest sights that he saw were the many witches and wizards who waved their wands around, acting like six-year-olds playing with their parents’ wands.
After watching the people around him for a few seconds, Lucius went back in the room, shutting the door behind him. His head pain had intensified as he stood out in the noise-filled corridor, and now all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Reaching for his wand, he pointed it at the door and cast a Silencing Charm.
But nothing happened. The clamour of voices and other noises still drifted into his room. What the --- he thought, looking from his wand to the door and back again. Figuring he must have muttered incorrectly, Lucius cast charm again but, like before, nothing changed.
Surely not, his mind said as Lucius tried to think of any possible reason this could be happening. There had to be a logical reason why his spell wasn’t working.
“Accio,” he muttered, pointing his wand at his watch. The results of this spell amounted to the same as the Silencing Charms --- nothing.
And suddenly, all the commotion and actions of the numerous people outside his room made sense. Everything came together in one, crashing moment.
“How can the magic be gone?” Lucius hissed as he struggled to retain control of his anger, which currently threatened to lash out at the nearest living thing.
Magic cannot just disappear, he thought as he paced up and down the length of his room like a caged animal. It’s just not possible . . . But as his mind could come up with no possible explanations, Lucius focussed on figuring out a solution to his problem. It didn’t take long.
St. Mungo’s.
Having an answer, Lucius left his room to try to figure out a way of getting across Europe without his magic. Dodging people busy running in all directions, Lucius headed towards the entrance he’d come through yesterday. Sitting at her desk was the same thin witch as before. She almost jerked out of her chair when Lucius approached.
“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, “I didn’t hear you ---”
“Which is one of the problems concerning all of this chaos,” replied Lucius, waving his hand to encompass the lobby around him, a lobby filled with chaotic shouting and running.
“Yes, I know,” the witch responded. “Things have been quite crazy ever since ---”
“Where are this centre’s research libraries?” asked Lucius, interrupting the witch once again. But she didn’t seem to care; if she did, she didn’t show it.
“Uh . . . dragon research or other --- ?”
“Other,” he said, “and make it quick.”
The witch pulled out a parchment scroll from her desk, scanning through it. Finally, she looked back up at Lucius, whose face held an expression that, had it been capable, would have torched her instantly.
“There’s one on the third floor,” she said. “It contains astronomy, charms, and Dark ---”
“Thanks,” muttered Lucius, walking away from the witch. He headed towards a tall, marble staircase on the opposite end of the lobby, climbing the first three flights. Looking around, Lucius headed towards a pair of double wooden doors at the end of the corridor. Above the doors hung a sign --- Dragomirna Dragon Preserve: Library B. He pushed the doors open and entered.
As Lucius entered the library, his grey eyes fell upon rows and rows of towering shelves stuffed with volumes of books to the point of overflowing. The library was pretty much empty, but Lucius paid no attention to the other occupants as he walked throughout the shelves.
Transportation without magic, he thought, scanning the shelves’ contents. No Apparition, Portkeys, and any other spells . . . Brooms would still work, his mind exclaimed, but how to travel to London?
Lucius pulled a random book on the shelf and opened it, but it contained nothing useful. Lucius looked up and down the rows of shelves, thinking, This could take awhile, as he withdrew another book.
Finally, hours after the sun had set, the answer arrived for Lucius Malfoy. He’d shut his twenty-fifth book with a slam, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips, and looked through the massive glass windows to see the twinkling stars beyond. Instantly, the answer arrived.
Lucius hurried outside of the building and gazed up at the night sky. Years of astronomy finally become good for something.
Like an expert astronomer, Lucius scanned the night sky, his eyes finding the Big Dipper immediately. There’s Alkaid, he thought, focussing on the first star in the handle. Then Alcor, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda, and finally Merak and Dubhe, he thought, reaching the two Pointer Stars at the end of the constellation. His grey gaze scanned the path up from the two stars, finally finding the bright North Star --- Polaris.
Perfect, he thought. Looking around, he found the broom that he’d used yesterday and, without sparing a single glance back, Lucius Malfoy mounted the broom, his gaze on Polaris as he headed towards St. Mungo’s.
Lucius continued flying for several hours, but he finally became too tired to carry on. His stomach also growled slightly and, irritated, he realised that he had not eaten anything since yesterday.
As he descended towards the ground, his blond hair blowing around his face in the night breeze, Lucius’s eyes caught sight of a single building standing alone. Once Lucius became closer, he realised the single building was a lone wooden house.
Finally, he thought as he landed. For a few seconds, he was a bit unsteady on his feet, having been in the air for so long. The feeling soon passed, and Lucius made his way to the front door of the house. His feet crunched on gravel and rocks, and tall grasses swept at his body as Lucius approached the front end of the house. As he got closer, the strong smell of decay assaulted his nostrils.
Lucius arrived on the threshold, his broom still in his left hand, when he had the distinct impression that something was watching him. He looked over towards his right and saw a sort of greenish, fungus-looking entity, its eyes blinking back at him. Picking up a nearby stick, Lucius poked the creature, jerking back slightly as it scuttled away on its numerous spindly legs.
“Bundimun,” he muttered as the name of the creature arrived in his mind. His grandfather had had to deal with a Bundimun infestation once, in one of the old and rarely-used Malfoy Family properties.
Turning away from the front door, Lucius walked over towards a nearby window and peered inside the house. The window was covered with dirt and other grime, and Lucius had to bend down to look through the one clear spot in the bottom corner of the glass. What he saw caused a sigh of disgust to escape his lips.
The room beyond was home to several Bundimuns, some on the floor while others lined the walls, their eyes glaring at him through the window. A look of disgust on his pale face, Lucius backed away from the window and crossed to another window, trying to see if the view of this next room was better than its previous part.
Lucius looked through the second window to see a kitchen and dining area. There were barely any of the Bundimuns in this part of the house, but the lack of the creatures’ presence still was not strong enough to entice Lucius into the house.
The thunderstorm that started within the next few moments, however, was strong enough.
Feeling that the house, as filthy as it was, was not worse than getting soaked in the raining storm, Lucius opened the door. Who knows? he thought. There could indeed be something useful in here.
Lucius did not get any further into the house, for as soon as he had opened the door, he heard the sounds of a motor running. Turning around, he saw a pair of lights coming down a nearby dirt road. Lucius stepped away from the house and approached the oncoming vehicle; waving it down to a stop, he realised it was a bus.
Finally, he thought as the bus stopped, its doors opening wide to admit him. Though feeling that something was slightly off, Lucius boarded the bus anyway, throwing a Galleon at the driver as he took a seat.
The moment that he had taken a seat, Lucius jerked back in sudden surprise as what had been a bus suddenly turned into a horse-drawn carriage. What the --- he thought, but his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the voice of the driver.
“Welcome, you brave soul,” he said, his voice becoming theatrical. “Very few have dared to take this special tour brought to you by TerrorTours. Soon, we will be depositing you at the castle home of Count Dracula, where you will enjoy a sumptuous Transylvanian cuisine prepared by the Count.
“From there, he will give you a tour around his magnificent castle and show you to your room,” the driver finished as the carriage turned onto another separate path, slowing down as it reached a pair of tall, iron gates.
Lucius took the time when the driver paused to speak. “I simply need a fireplace connected to the Floo Network,” he said. But it was as if the driver did not hear him.
“We, at TerrorTours, have also provided you with a kit that contains a clove of garlic and a classic book by Bram Stoker entitled, Dracula, presumably being dedicated to the Count,” continued the driver and as he spoke, the two objects appeared next to Lucius.
“Oh, and about the fireplace,” said the driver, “I am sure that the Count has one, but it’s probably best not to offend the vampire by wishing to leave immediately upon arrival.” The horse-drawn carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of the wrought-iron gates, both of which immediately creaked open as the driver said, “Enjoy your stay.”
With that, Lucius left the carriage, stuffing the garlic and book into a pocket as he did so. For a few seconds, he simply stood where he was, listening to the sounds of the horse’s hooves and the carriage’s wheels as it rolled away. Lucius then decided to make his way up to the front door.
As he climbed the front stairs, Lucius could not help but be slightly impressed at the size and atmosphere exerted by the Count’s dwelling. The stone structure stood imperiously in front of him and, though it was undoubtedly ancient, appeared to be kept in fabulous condition. He was not able to admire the incredible markings on the front doors, however, because no sooner had he raised his hand forward to use the silver knocker did the door open, revealing the Count himself.
Count Dracula was, in appearance, elegant yet plain. His skin, as one would quite rightly expect, shone sickly pale, a colour that contrasted greatly with his dark black hair. He was thin and did not appear strong in any way, a vast misconception for many, for vampires had, by their very nature, unnatural physical strength. The long black cloak, adorned with silver accessories as it was, was perhaps the most elegant thing about the Count, other than his proud manner, that is.
“Welcome,” said the Count, his blue eyes gazing intensely at Lucius, who gave off no sign of agitation.
“Evening, Count,” replied Lucius as he stepped aristocratically across the front threshold. Turning around to face the vampire as Dracula shut the door, Lucius waited for him to lead the way through the impressive home towards the dining area, plans already taking form in Lucius’s mind.
Upon reaching the dining room, both Lucius and Dracula took their seats at the large table, which was piled high with trays and trays of food. The goblets in front of the two men filled instantly to the brim with a white wine, and Lucius regally took a sip. Dracula, on the other hand, touched nothing.
After a few moments of silence, during which little of the food was messed with, (though the act did not seem to offend anyone), Dracula spoke.
“I do not believe that I received your name when you entered,” he said, his voice soft. “Nor do I know why you have come.”
Setting down his goblet quietly, Lucius turned and faced the Count as he answered.
“My name is Lucius Malfoy,” he said, “and as for why I am here, well . . . I have a proposition for you, Count, a very beneficial one.”
The vampire smiled from where he sat, exposing his gleaming white teeth. “And what might that be, Mr. Malfoy?”
“First, let me ask this: I take it you have a fireplace that is connected to the Floo Network?”
“Of course,” said Dracula.
“And it is international?” asked Lucius, knowing full well that there were occasionally places where international travel was blocked.
“It is international indeed, Mr. Malfoy,” replied the Count. “But what do my fireplace’s connections have to do with anything?”
Lucius did not answer the question right away. Instead, he just continued on his previous subject. “I take it, Count Dracula,” he said, “that you have heard of the Dark Lord in Britain?”
“Ah, yes,” responded Dracula, a sigh of pleasure coming from him. “He is the very powerful wizard of whose name no one dares speak. There is a good deal of respect for him among the old families in the world,” he said, “even amongst the vampire clans.”
“And what are your views on the Dark Lord, Count Dracula?”
Dracula smiled at this question as he leaned forwards in his chair, his voice only slightly louder than a whisper as he said, “I have only respect towards him. Ignorant people fear his name and power in your country, whereas the same type of people feel those sentiments towards myself in my country. . . . Why do you ask about this, Mr. Malfoy?” finished the Count and, though he had vocalised the question, Lucius felt sure that his host was already aware of the answer.
Wordlessly, Lucius rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a gleaming red mark of a skull with a serpent as a tongue. “Because I believe we can both benefit each other,” he answered.
----
Two or three hours passed before Lucius and Count Dracula left the dining table to head into the castle’s library, where a Floo-connected fireplace stood on the far west wall. Dracula reached up on a bookshelf and took down a simple clay jar, filled to the top with green Floo powder.
Lucius took some and threw it into the fire, turning the flames instantly green. Before departing, however, he turned back and faced Dracula, who had just spoken.
“The Dark Lord will make good on that promise,” he said. “Come to Britain and you will indeed be given anything you want. Plenty of other followers will indeed agree with me,” continued Lucius, “when I tell you that the Dark Lord rewards loyal service most generously.”
“I do not at all doubt your words, my friend,” replied Count Dracula as he replaced the jar. “Honour from a wizard as great as the Dark Lord is all the assurance of promises that I need.”
With that, the two men --- vampire and wizard --- shook hands in farewell. Lucius stepped into the green flames and, nodding in Dracula’s direction, said, “St. Mungo’s Hospital.”
Lucius stepped out of a fireplace on St. Mungo’s end, wiping a bit of ash off of his robes as he did so. He walked down the blindingly-white corridors towards a section of tall double doors. With a forceful push, Lucius opened the doors and made his way across the nearly empty lobby. The few wizards and witches present in the room looked up when he entered, but they soon went back to their own thoughts.
Striding up to a thin witch at the Welcome desk, Lucius stopped in front of her, saying, “Is Healer Keneth available?” The witch seemed slightly shocked at first, but recovered quickly enough.
“Yes,” she said. “He’s down in the Insanity Ward. I can page him for y ---” But Lucius did not wait for the young witch to continue before he interrupted.
“Tell him that I will be in his office,” said Lucius as he left the witch, turning down a white-walled corridor and entered a door at the far end. There was a golden name plate on the door, reading “Healer Richard Keneth,” and Lucius shut the door behind him and took a seat on a large black sofa.
Healer Keneth walked into his office with a sort of braced and forced pleasant look on his slightly wrinkled face. The new Welcome witch, Julia Young, had come hurrying up to him, exclaiming, “Lucius Malfoy is in your office right now!” Richard had not wasted any time in heading towards his office, for it was not every day that one of St. Mungo’s most generous contributors sought him out. The forced pleasantry that lined his face, however, was simply the result of his dislike for Lucius Malfoy. He didn’t trust him, to put it simply.
“Mr. Malfoy,” said Healer Keneth as he shook his visitor’s hand in greeting, then sitting behind his elegant desk. “What can I do for you?”
Lucius held a stoic expression on his pale face, struggling to keep his dislike of the man before him at bay. Though he disliked Richard Keneth, Lucius knew that he would know what was wrong with his magic.
“I seem to currently be experiencing a slight problem with my magic,” said Lucius as he looked at the Healer, trying to discern any appearance of dawning understanding and knowledge. It did not come right away.
“What seems to be the problem?” asked Healer Keneth, though his mind was telling him the answer even as he asked. He hoped that his thoughts would be incorrect, for he did not want to tell Lucius Malfoy his answer.
Lucius exhaled before replying, the idea of voicing the problem with his magic irking him more than anything had in a very long time. “Are you aware, Richard,” he said, “what can cause magic to simply stop working? To seem like it has vanished?” The returning look on Healer Keneth’s wrinkled face was layered with knowledge, knowledge that Lucius could already tell was not going to give him a good answer.
Healer Keneth sat back in his chair and surveyed the blond-haired man before him. Lucius’s words had just confirmed his previous thoughts, and the answer he must now give to his visitor and patient could be considered anything but good.
“I have heard your symptoms before, Mr. Malfoy,” he replied, letting out a sigh as he did so. “There have been several cases like yours lately . . . all of those involved have suddenly discovered a surprising disappearance of their magic. It happens very quick and sudden, without warning, as I am sure you yourself experienced.
“My colleagues and I have been searching for explanations and cures since the first case. So far, there has not been any break; the only similarity that we have seen has been that the people have recently left the country or been around wild animals. Am I correct in assuming that you ---”
“Yes, I had business in Romania to attend to the other day,” snapped Lucius, interrupting the Healer. “You tell me that you are unaware of the cause?” he asked. “Fine, just tell me what is happening and a cure,” he finished.
Sighing, the Healer looked piercingly at Lucius, Keneth’s inner thoughts screaming that his patient was going to absolutely despise his next statements. “All of the previous cases,” he said, “have been different in many ways, but in one way, they were all identical. . . . Within two weeks of the initial onset of the problem, the magic of every single patient has completely disappeared . . . permanently . . . forever.” Healer Keneth finished speaking and stared at Lucius.
Lucius’s mind had seemed to come to a grinding halt when he heard Richard’s words. It could not be true, he thought. There was some mistake. He had always had magic, after all; there was no possible way that it would be gone. He would not accept it.
~*~
That's the conclusion of the first part.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa
Era: Marauder-Era, Vold-War I
Summary: Dragons, vampires, hospitals, and riddles all combine together to give Lucius Malfoy a trying experience as he seeks out the answer to a plaguing problem: How to get his magic back.
~*~
Part I
The bright orange sun was starting its descent below the horizon on one of the hottest days of the year. Even the slight breeze that blew throughout the land was warm. No sounds could be heard, until the intense silence was broken by a slight crack.
A tall wizard materialised out of nowhere in front of a pair of barred iron gates. Pushing a loose strand of his long, blond hair from his pale face, Lucius Malfoy watched as a short, round man hurried up the path towards him. When he reached the gates, the short man withdrew a wand and, muttering a few incantations under his breath, admitted Lucius into the compound.
“Mr. Malfoy,” exclaimed the short man, extending his hand in greeting, “it’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Lucius shook the man’s hand briefly, giving a slight nod of the head. The two wizards began their trek towards the main building, the short man prattling on and on the entire time.
“Name’s Pete Harrison,” he said, pausing to see if his companion would answer. Lucius did not. “As Head of Dragomirna Dragon Preserve, I’d just like to thank you personally for your family’s generous donations to our work. It’s really ---”
Lucius tuned Pete out. The man’s voice was quite annoying, to be honest, and hearing Pete’s voice increased Lucius’s already-present headache. His day hadn’t been great so far, and having to be out in the heat of the day at a dragon preserve in Romania didn’t help.
And if it had been completely up to me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here, Lucius thought. It was only because of the Dark Lord that he had left the comfort of his manor to head to Romania and find an old acquaintance.
Matilda Roshgarth. Quite intelligent and only a year behind him, Matilda had always had a soft spot for magical creatures. She and Narcissa had been close during their time at Hogwarts, which was the main way Lucius knew her. But it wasn’t because of Narcissa that Lucius was seeking Matilda out today.
The Dark Lord wants something from her, he mused, but no matter how often he tried to come up with an answer, he honestly had no idea why Matilda. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as Pete’s voice intruded.
“So, what brings you to the preserve today, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Harrison, letting his guest enter the main entrance first.
“I’m here to speak with Matilda Roshgarth,” said Lucius. “There are some things I need to speak with her about.”
Pete Harrison nodded and, getting the distinct impression that it would be unwise, didn’t push the issue. Instead, he turned to a thin, black-haired witch at a desk next to him.
“Good evening, Sasha,” he said, a sweet smile plastered on his face. “Can you tell me where I might find Matilda? There’s a guest here who’d like to speak with her.”
“Roshgarth left with Hudson about fifteen minutes ago,” the witch responded. “They’re doing further immunizations.”
When she’d finished, Pete turned back to face Lucius. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but it appears like she’s not in right now. You’re welcome to ---”
“Where is she?” demanded Lucius, his voice now harsh. He had had enough. He was going to be home in a few hours, not spend some undetermined amount of time waiting on a witch to show up.
“She’s out with the dragons, but ---”
Lucius didn’t wait for Harrison to finish. He turned quickly and left the building, entering the heat once again. He caught sight of several broomsticks leaning against the wall and, grabbing what looked like the best one, mounted and flew off into the sky.
It felt a bit cooler as he flew over the compound, his eyes spotting numerous dragons of many breeds slumbering below him. Finally, though, he saw something other than a dragon. A witch --- obviously Matilda, thought Lucius --- stood in front of an angry and awake Welsh Green. Lucius scanned the ground around the witch, only to see a destroyed broomstick and a disguarded wand.
As the dragon reared up, ready to strike, Lucius turned his broom around and headed back towards the compound. He quickly dismounted and, spotting another dragon tamer, approached. A slight scowl appeared on his face, however, as his path was intercepted by Pete Harrison.
“Mr. Malfoy,” said Pete, “did you find Matilda?”
“As a matter of fact, I did, and I suggest you send people out to assist her right away, as she’s currently facing off a Welsh Green dragon.”
Pete just stood there for a moment, almost like he couldn’t believe what Lucius had said. Come on, you incompetent fool, the blond-haired wizard thought. Finally, though, Pete’s senses seemed to return to him and the short man began shouting orders to several workers around him, telling them to find Matilda.
The dragon tamers took off immediately, their brooms zooming through the air towards their endangered colleague, but even as he watched them, Lucius had a strong feeling that it was too late.
Lucius massaged his head for a brief moment, his headache even worse than before. Pete’s voice intruding into his thoughts also didn’t help the matter at all.
“Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?” he asked, frowning up at his guest as the blond-haired man held his pounding head in his hands.
“Fine,” Lucius spat out, allowing his cool composure to disappear for a moment before regaining control, continuing with, “It’s just a slight headache.” And you’re strongly wearing on my already-limited patience.
Pete Harrison seemed slightly unconvinced as he surveyed Lucius. “You should probably lie down for a bit, Mr. Malfoy,” said Pete hesitantly. “There are extra beds in the building, and I believe we also have something for your headache.”
Lucius sighed. He had no idea what made him agree to Pete’s suggestion, but he had. Within ten minutes, Lucius had gone from standing next to Pete outside the reserve’s main building to reclining back in a large four-poster bed; his headache was already getting better.
He’d already sent a quick message to Narcissa, telling her he wouldn’t be back until the next day. Pete Harrison had left Lucius in peace, an act that the latter was pleased with, and he soon drifted off to sleep; not even thoughts of Matilda or the Dark Lord were capable of keeping him awake.
----
When Lucius next opened his grey eyes, it was to see a bright, sun-filled room around him. He jerked up from his relaxed position, grabbing his watch, which read “noon,” and Lucius immediately rose from his bed.
Noises came floating into his room as he got ready, and as the volume increased, Lucius scowled. He had thought his headache was completely gone, but that turned out to be a mistaken thought. It increased its pounding as the clamour of voices increased.
What’s going on? Lucius thought as he walked towards his door. It was then, with his hand ready to open the door, that everything of the past night came back to him. Matilda’s body, he thought.
Lucius opened the door, though, just to be sure that Matilda was the reason for all the noise. What he saw, however, was not exactly what he had expected.
Hundreds of wizards and witches ran up and down the corridors and across the lobbies. Doors opened and closed all around Lucius as people went in and out. But perhaps one of the oddest sights that he saw were the many witches and wizards who waved their wands around, acting like six-year-olds playing with their parents’ wands.
After watching the people around him for a few seconds, Lucius went back in the room, shutting the door behind him. His head pain had intensified as he stood out in the noise-filled corridor, and now all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Reaching for his wand, he pointed it at the door and cast a Silencing Charm.
But nothing happened. The clamour of voices and other noises still drifted into his room. What the --- he thought, looking from his wand to the door and back again. Figuring he must have muttered incorrectly, Lucius cast charm again but, like before, nothing changed.
Surely not, his mind said as Lucius tried to think of any possible reason this could be happening. There had to be a logical reason why his spell wasn’t working.
“Accio,” he muttered, pointing his wand at his watch. The results of this spell amounted to the same as the Silencing Charms --- nothing.
And suddenly, all the commotion and actions of the numerous people outside his room made sense. Everything came together in one, crashing moment.
“How can the magic be gone?” Lucius hissed as he struggled to retain control of his anger, which currently threatened to lash out at the nearest living thing.
Magic cannot just disappear, he thought as he paced up and down the length of his room like a caged animal. It’s just not possible . . . But as his mind could come up with no possible explanations, Lucius focussed on figuring out a solution to his problem. It didn’t take long.
St. Mungo’s.
Having an answer, Lucius left his room to try to figure out a way of getting across Europe without his magic. Dodging people busy running in all directions, Lucius headed towards the entrance he’d come through yesterday. Sitting at her desk was the same thin witch as before. She almost jerked out of her chair when Lucius approached.
“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, “I didn’t hear you ---”
“Which is one of the problems concerning all of this chaos,” replied Lucius, waving his hand to encompass the lobby around him, a lobby filled with chaotic shouting and running.
“Yes, I know,” the witch responded. “Things have been quite crazy ever since ---”
“Where are this centre’s research libraries?” asked Lucius, interrupting the witch once again. But she didn’t seem to care; if she did, she didn’t show it.
“Uh . . . dragon research or other --- ?”
“Other,” he said, “and make it quick.”
The witch pulled out a parchment scroll from her desk, scanning through it. Finally, she looked back up at Lucius, whose face held an expression that, had it been capable, would have torched her instantly.
“There’s one on the third floor,” she said. “It contains astronomy, charms, and Dark ---”
“Thanks,” muttered Lucius, walking away from the witch. He headed towards a tall, marble staircase on the opposite end of the lobby, climbing the first three flights. Looking around, Lucius headed towards a pair of double wooden doors at the end of the corridor. Above the doors hung a sign --- Dragomirna Dragon Preserve: Library B. He pushed the doors open and entered.
As Lucius entered the library, his grey eyes fell upon rows and rows of towering shelves stuffed with volumes of books to the point of overflowing. The library was pretty much empty, but Lucius paid no attention to the other occupants as he walked throughout the shelves.
Transportation without magic, he thought, scanning the shelves’ contents. No Apparition, Portkeys, and any other spells . . . Brooms would still work, his mind exclaimed, but how to travel to London?
Lucius pulled a random book on the shelf and opened it, but it contained nothing useful. Lucius looked up and down the rows of shelves, thinking, This could take awhile, as he withdrew another book.
Finally, hours after the sun had set, the answer arrived for Lucius Malfoy. He’d shut his twenty-fifth book with a slam, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips, and looked through the massive glass windows to see the twinkling stars beyond. Instantly, the answer arrived.
Lucius hurried outside of the building and gazed up at the night sky. Years of astronomy finally become good for something.
Like an expert astronomer, Lucius scanned the night sky, his eyes finding the Big Dipper immediately. There’s Alkaid, he thought, focussing on the first star in the handle. Then Alcor, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda, and finally Merak and Dubhe, he thought, reaching the two Pointer Stars at the end of the constellation. His grey gaze scanned the path up from the two stars, finally finding the bright North Star --- Polaris.
Perfect, he thought. Looking around, he found the broom that he’d used yesterday and, without sparing a single glance back, Lucius Malfoy mounted the broom, his gaze on Polaris as he headed towards St. Mungo’s.
Lucius continued flying for several hours, but he finally became too tired to carry on. His stomach also growled slightly and, irritated, he realised that he had not eaten anything since yesterday.
As he descended towards the ground, his blond hair blowing around his face in the night breeze, Lucius’s eyes caught sight of a single building standing alone. Once Lucius became closer, he realised the single building was a lone wooden house.
Finally, he thought as he landed. For a few seconds, he was a bit unsteady on his feet, having been in the air for so long. The feeling soon passed, and Lucius made his way to the front door of the house. His feet crunched on gravel and rocks, and tall grasses swept at his body as Lucius approached the front end of the house. As he got closer, the strong smell of decay assaulted his nostrils.
Lucius arrived on the threshold, his broom still in his left hand, when he had the distinct impression that something was watching him. He looked over towards his right and saw a sort of greenish, fungus-looking entity, its eyes blinking back at him. Picking up a nearby stick, Lucius poked the creature, jerking back slightly as it scuttled away on its numerous spindly legs.
“Bundimun,” he muttered as the name of the creature arrived in his mind. His grandfather had had to deal with a Bundimun infestation once, in one of the old and rarely-used Malfoy Family properties.
Turning away from the front door, Lucius walked over towards a nearby window and peered inside the house. The window was covered with dirt and other grime, and Lucius had to bend down to look through the one clear spot in the bottom corner of the glass. What he saw caused a sigh of disgust to escape his lips.
The room beyond was home to several Bundimuns, some on the floor while others lined the walls, their eyes glaring at him through the window. A look of disgust on his pale face, Lucius backed away from the window and crossed to another window, trying to see if the view of this next room was better than its previous part.
Lucius looked through the second window to see a kitchen and dining area. There were barely any of the Bundimuns in this part of the house, but the lack of the creatures’ presence still was not strong enough to entice Lucius into the house.
The thunderstorm that started within the next few moments, however, was strong enough.
Feeling that the house, as filthy as it was, was not worse than getting soaked in the raining storm, Lucius opened the door. Who knows? he thought. There could indeed be something useful in here.
Lucius did not get any further into the house, for as soon as he had opened the door, he heard the sounds of a motor running. Turning around, he saw a pair of lights coming down a nearby dirt road. Lucius stepped away from the house and approached the oncoming vehicle; waving it down to a stop, he realised it was a bus.
Finally, he thought as the bus stopped, its doors opening wide to admit him. Though feeling that something was slightly off, Lucius boarded the bus anyway, throwing a Galleon at the driver as he took a seat.
The moment that he had taken a seat, Lucius jerked back in sudden surprise as what had been a bus suddenly turned into a horse-drawn carriage. What the --- he thought, but his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the voice of the driver.
“Welcome, you brave soul,” he said, his voice becoming theatrical. “Very few have dared to take this special tour brought to you by TerrorTours. Soon, we will be depositing you at the castle home of Count Dracula, where you will enjoy a sumptuous Transylvanian cuisine prepared by the Count.
“From there, he will give you a tour around his magnificent castle and show you to your room,” the driver finished as the carriage turned onto another separate path, slowing down as it reached a pair of tall, iron gates.
Lucius took the time when the driver paused to speak. “I simply need a fireplace connected to the Floo Network,” he said. But it was as if the driver did not hear him.
“We, at TerrorTours, have also provided you with a kit that contains a clove of garlic and a classic book by Bram Stoker entitled, Dracula, presumably being dedicated to the Count,” continued the driver and as he spoke, the two objects appeared next to Lucius.
“Oh, and about the fireplace,” said the driver, “I am sure that the Count has one, but it’s probably best not to offend the vampire by wishing to leave immediately upon arrival.” The horse-drawn carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of the wrought-iron gates, both of which immediately creaked open as the driver said, “Enjoy your stay.”
With that, Lucius left the carriage, stuffing the garlic and book into a pocket as he did so. For a few seconds, he simply stood where he was, listening to the sounds of the horse’s hooves and the carriage’s wheels as it rolled away. Lucius then decided to make his way up to the front door.
As he climbed the front stairs, Lucius could not help but be slightly impressed at the size and atmosphere exerted by the Count’s dwelling. The stone structure stood imperiously in front of him and, though it was undoubtedly ancient, appeared to be kept in fabulous condition. He was not able to admire the incredible markings on the front doors, however, because no sooner had he raised his hand forward to use the silver knocker did the door open, revealing the Count himself.
Count Dracula was, in appearance, elegant yet plain. His skin, as one would quite rightly expect, shone sickly pale, a colour that contrasted greatly with his dark black hair. He was thin and did not appear strong in any way, a vast misconception for many, for vampires had, by their very nature, unnatural physical strength. The long black cloak, adorned with silver accessories as it was, was perhaps the most elegant thing about the Count, other than his proud manner, that is.
“Welcome,” said the Count, his blue eyes gazing intensely at Lucius, who gave off no sign of agitation.
“Evening, Count,” replied Lucius as he stepped aristocratically across the front threshold. Turning around to face the vampire as Dracula shut the door, Lucius waited for him to lead the way through the impressive home towards the dining area, plans already taking form in Lucius’s mind.
Upon reaching the dining room, both Lucius and Dracula took their seats at the large table, which was piled high with trays and trays of food. The goblets in front of the two men filled instantly to the brim with a white wine, and Lucius regally took a sip. Dracula, on the other hand, touched nothing.
After a few moments of silence, during which little of the food was messed with, (though the act did not seem to offend anyone), Dracula spoke.
“I do not believe that I received your name when you entered,” he said, his voice soft. “Nor do I know why you have come.”
Setting down his goblet quietly, Lucius turned and faced the Count as he answered.
“My name is Lucius Malfoy,” he said, “and as for why I am here, well . . . I have a proposition for you, Count, a very beneficial one.”
The vampire smiled from where he sat, exposing his gleaming white teeth. “And what might that be, Mr. Malfoy?”
“First, let me ask this: I take it you have a fireplace that is connected to the Floo Network?”
“Of course,” said Dracula.
“And it is international?” asked Lucius, knowing full well that there were occasionally places where international travel was blocked.
“It is international indeed, Mr. Malfoy,” replied the Count. “But what do my fireplace’s connections have to do with anything?”
Lucius did not answer the question right away. Instead, he just continued on his previous subject. “I take it, Count Dracula,” he said, “that you have heard of the Dark Lord in Britain?”
“Ah, yes,” responded Dracula, a sigh of pleasure coming from him. “He is the very powerful wizard of whose name no one dares speak. There is a good deal of respect for him among the old families in the world,” he said, “even amongst the vampire clans.”
“And what are your views on the Dark Lord, Count Dracula?”
Dracula smiled at this question as he leaned forwards in his chair, his voice only slightly louder than a whisper as he said, “I have only respect towards him. Ignorant people fear his name and power in your country, whereas the same type of people feel those sentiments towards myself in my country. . . . Why do you ask about this, Mr. Malfoy?” finished the Count and, though he had vocalised the question, Lucius felt sure that his host was already aware of the answer.
Wordlessly, Lucius rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a gleaming red mark of a skull with a serpent as a tongue. “Because I believe we can both benefit each other,” he answered.
----
Two or three hours passed before Lucius and Count Dracula left the dining table to head into the castle’s library, where a Floo-connected fireplace stood on the far west wall. Dracula reached up on a bookshelf and took down a simple clay jar, filled to the top with green Floo powder.
Lucius took some and threw it into the fire, turning the flames instantly green. Before departing, however, he turned back and faced Dracula, who had just spoken.
“The Dark Lord will make good on that promise,” he said. “Come to Britain and you will indeed be given anything you want. Plenty of other followers will indeed agree with me,” continued Lucius, “when I tell you that the Dark Lord rewards loyal service most generously.”
“I do not at all doubt your words, my friend,” replied Count Dracula as he replaced the jar. “Honour from a wizard as great as the Dark Lord is all the assurance of promises that I need.”
With that, the two men --- vampire and wizard --- shook hands in farewell. Lucius stepped into the green flames and, nodding in Dracula’s direction, said, “St. Mungo’s Hospital.”
Lucius stepped out of a fireplace on St. Mungo’s end, wiping a bit of ash off of his robes as he did so. He walked down the blindingly-white corridors towards a section of tall double doors. With a forceful push, Lucius opened the doors and made his way across the nearly empty lobby. The few wizards and witches present in the room looked up when he entered, but they soon went back to their own thoughts.
Striding up to a thin witch at the Welcome desk, Lucius stopped in front of her, saying, “Is Healer Keneth available?” The witch seemed slightly shocked at first, but recovered quickly enough.
“Yes,” she said. “He’s down in the Insanity Ward. I can page him for y ---” But Lucius did not wait for the young witch to continue before he interrupted.
“Tell him that I will be in his office,” said Lucius as he left the witch, turning down a white-walled corridor and entered a door at the far end. There was a golden name plate on the door, reading “Healer Richard Keneth,” and Lucius shut the door behind him and took a seat on a large black sofa.
Healer Keneth walked into his office with a sort of braced and forced pleasant look on his slightly wrinkled face. The new Welcome witch, Julia Young, had come hurrying up to him, exclaiming, “Lucius Malfoy is in your office right now!” Richard had not wasted any time in heading towards his office, for it was not every day that one of St. Mungo’s most generous contributors sought him out. The forced pleasantry that lined his face, however, was simply the result of his dislike for Lucius Malfoy. He didn’t trust him, to put it simply.
“Mr. Malfoy,” said Healer Keneth as he shook his visitor’s hand in greeting, then sitting behind his elegant desk. “What can I do for you?”
Lucius held a stoic expression on his pale face, struggling to keep his dislike of the man before him at bay. Though he disliked Richard Keneth, Lucius knew that he would know what was wrong with his magic.
“I seem to currently be experiencing a slight problem with my magic,” said Lucius as he looked at the Healer, trying to discern any appearance of dawning understanding and knowledge. It did not come right away.
“What seems to be the problem?” asked Healer Keneth, though his mind was telling him the answer even as he asked. He hoped that his thoughts would be incorrect, for he did not want to tell Lucius Malfoy his answer.
Lucius exhaled before replying, the idea of voicing the problem with his magic irking him more than anything had in a very long time. “Are you aware, Richard,” he said, “what can cause magic to simply stop working? To seem like it has vanished?” The returning look on Healer Keneth’s wrinkled face was layered with knowledge, knowledge that Lucius could already tell was not going to give him a good answer.
Healer Keneth sat back in his chair and surveyed the blond-haired man before him. Lucius’s words had just confirmed his previous thoughts, and the answer he must now give to his visitor and patient could be considered anything but good.
“I have heard your symptoms before, Mr. Malfoy,” he replied, letting out a sigh as he did so. “There have been several cases like yours lately . . . all of those involved have suddenly discovered a surprising disappearance of their magic. It happens very quick and sudden, without warning, as I am sure you yourself experienced.
“My colleagues and I have been searching for explanations and cures since the first case. So far, there has not been any break; the only similarity that we have seen has been that the people have recently left the country or been around wild animals. Am I correct in assuming that you ---”
“Yes, I had business in Romania to attend to the other day,” snapped Lucius, interrupting the Healer. “You tell me that you are unaware of the cause?” he asked. “Fine, just tell me what is happening and a cure,” he finished.
Sighing, the Healer looked piercingly at Lucius, Keneth’s inner thoughts screaming that his patient was going to absolutely despise his next statements. “All of the previous cases,” he said, “have been different in many ways, but in one way, they were all identical. . . . Within two weeks of the initial onset of the problem, the magic of every single patient has completely disappeared . . . permanently . . . forever.” Healer Keneth finished speaking and stared at Lucius.
Lucius’s mind had seemed to come to a grinding halt when he heard Richard’s words. It could not be true, he thought. There was some mistake. He had always had magic, after all; there was no possible way that it would be gone. He would not accept it.
~*~
That's the conclusion of the first part.
~Megan