A Chosen Path: Part II
Title: A Chosen Path
Rating: PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa
Era: Marauder-Era
Summary: “When you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy . . .” ~Albus Dumbledore. What if, to you, the right choice and the easy choice is the same thing? That is the case for seventeen-year-old Lucius Malfoy. Nearing the end of his final year at Hogwarts, the young, aristocratic Slytherin chooses to embark on a path his father has treaded. Sneaking out of the school under the eyes of that Mudblood-loving headmaster, Lucius goes to join Dumbledore’s enemy - the Dark Lord Voldemort. He believes he has made the right decision in following this path, but will he make it through all of the tests and obstacles that the Dark Lord demands of him? Will he receive the Dark Mark and prove himself worthy of joining the elite group of followers who call themselves the Death Eaters?
~*~
Part II
Lucius was not given long to stand in the circle of Death Eaters as one on an equal level. He had barely taken his place when the Dark Lord turned around, addressing the group at large.
“Tonight, we welcomed four wizards into our cause,” he said, and the Death Eaters all nodded their heads in assent. Lucius followed suit. “They have proven themselves, and more will make the same choice as they did. Those who belong are welcomed.” The speech, if one wanted to call it that, was cut abruptly short, and the groups of Death Eaters broke apart, a few going in all different directions as they left for their homes. The Dark Lord still remained, speaking with a couple of the Dark wizards, one of which, Lucius noticed, was his own father. For a brief moment, the young man contemplated approaching his father, but the need for him to make a decision was unnecessary. Two large Death Eaters - the ones who had stood at the Dark Lord’s sides during his initiation - came towards him, each of them grasping his upper arms.
“You need to come with us,” the one on his right said, though Lucius could not recognise the voice. He tried to struggle out of their grips, but the two held tightly to his arms. The young wizard ceased trying to free himself and walked with the two men.
They led him out of the forest clearing and the one on his left shoved a single golden coin into his hand. Lucius felt a tug and within seconds, the Portkey had brought him to a single, small room. It was completely structured out of thick, grey stone, and looked ominously like a prison cell in that sense. But that was the only connection to something so detested by Lucius. A fireplace was built into the far right wall, though there was no hint of a jar of Floo powder anywhere. A full-sized bed stood in the centre back of the room, and a wooden chair and desk was located in the opposite corner from the fireplace.
“Where am I?” asked Lucius, glancing over at the pair of Death Eaters who had accompanied him into the room. “What is this?”
Neither one of them responded to his questions. They each reached into their pockets and instantly disappeared before Lucius even had the opportunity to grasp his wand. What the --- he thought, glancing at the spot where the two men had just stood. Shrugging in confusion and assuming that they must have had another Portkey or something, Lucius started walking along the walls of the room, making a complete circle of his chamber.
There was no outward sign of a door or any other way to exit. He tried performing a few detection spells, but nothing came up positive. “Damn,” he hissed. But he did not take much time to dwell on his dilemma, for a great wave of exhaustion had assaulted the young wizard and, covering a yawn, Lucius stumbled over towards the bed and laid down, resting his head against the fluffy pillows. He allowed his mind to wander, something he had rarely done, especially in the last few years, and the topic that it seemed to want to think over was his choices, specifically that which had led him to where he was - a marked Death Eater in a stone chamber somewhere.
----
“Hey, Lucius, did you hear about this?” Narcissa Black said from her reclined position on the sofa in the Slytherin common room, a paper clutched in her thin hands.
Lucius Malfoy slowly lowered his book, placing in on the table in front of him and turning to face the fifth-year girl. “Hear about what, precisely?”
“There’s this new wizard, calling himself a Dark Lord, who’s attempting to unite all of the Pureblood families,” she answered. “Saying that we have the right to rule and whatnot. Basically, he’s advocating Slytherin’s code.”
“My father told me about him,” the blond-haired wizard answered, leaving his seat to join his girlfriend, the both of them looking over the paper. Several news stories littered the front page, but the largest seemed to be devoted to the story of the Pureblood cause. “Father told me that he’s connected to Salazar Slytherin, descended through his mother’s blood.”
“Well, he has the right idea,” said Narcissa. “My parents definitely think so.”
“As do mine,” said Lucius. “The purity of blood should be preserved, after all.”
----
“You wanted to see me, Father?” asked Lucius as he entered his father’s office. Abraxas Malfoy turned around to face his seventeen-year-old son.
“Yes, Lucius,” he said. “Sit down.” The younger Malfoy took a seat next to his father’s desk, as the elder wizard approached his son. “I’ve told you about the Dark Lord, and you know that your mother and I support him.” Lucius nodded. “Well, now that you’re of age, it’s time you make your own decision on whether or not to take the next step in your support of him.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
“Do you want to join the Dark Lord and his cause?” said Abraxas, looking deep into his son’s grey eyes. “Do you want to be a Death Eater, Lucius?”
“Of course,” answered the young wizard. “The Dark Lord is right, Father, and I support him.”
----
“And here I am,” muttered Lucius, gazing around at the small room, wondering if everything was worth it.
----
When Lucius next opened his eyes, he jerked up from his position on the bed and glanced at his watch. After seeing that only a half hour had passed, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least I didn’t sleep the entire night away, he thought. He turned his left arm over and looked at the Mark on his arm. It still appeared as black as it did when the Dark Lord had applied it earlier in the night and, as he reached out and ran his fingers across the outline of the skull, he felt the skin feel a bit warmer there than on the rest of his arm. Or perhaps it was just his imagination; he did not really know.
Lucius's eyes remained locked on the tattoo, numerous thoughts floating through his mind as he stared at the skull and snake. The most recent to come to his mind was that of his conversations with Narcissa, his father, and his other friends - the ones he had come with tonight. They all believed he had done the right thing; they supported his decision completely.
But there were others that Lucius knew would not. There had, and would always be those, who did not understand. He had seen them at Hogwarts, not just among the staff, but among the students as well. There were so many of them that an entire quarter of the school, an entire House, was devoted to them: The Gryffindors, what with their self-righteousness and whatnot. They thought that they were above the rest, and everyone just knew that Gryffindors were better than Slytherins.
Just the thought of them made Lucius's head hurt. Unlike himself, who actually had reasons for believing in his superiority, the Gryffindors did not. They just ran around the entire school, acting like they were the heroes who were saving Hogwarts from the evilness of all of the Slytherins. Of course, some amount of rivalry had indeed been going on between the Houses since the time of Salazar himself. But recently, especially this past year, had already grown out of control, what with that group of first-year Gryffindors who believed they were greater than seventh-years (of any House).
Lucius had seen the four boys around the school, and while normally, he would not care much what went on with first-year Gryffindors, these had caught his interest just by the pure fact that Black was one of them. Narcissa's troublesome cousin, Sirius Black, had been sorted into the House of blood traitors and Mudbloods (which really came as little surprise as, judging by Narcissa's comments, he had always been rebelling against his family). Still, these four held something of interest to him.
It had not taken long for Lucius to notice that these four boys and a first-year kid in his own House had a certain animosity between them, more so than just the average Slytherin versus Gryffindor hatred. Normally, the dramas and rivalries between the lower class members did not interest the seventeen-year-old Slytherin, but when those conflicts stretched up and affected him, well, that’s when there was a problem.
Numerous times, times that he would rather not relive, came to Lucius's mind when the first-year band of Gryffindors would pull some stunt, usually some sort of immature prank or something, whose effects would go all through Slytherin House. Usually, it involved either something to do with meals or Quidditch.
But not anymore, Lucius thought, running his hand along the Dark Mark once again. There was a certain power that seemed to come with possessing the tattoo, or so Lucius's mind wanted to believe. He had always been superior, he knew that, but this . . . well, it sort of heightened his superiority, increasing it and making it stronger.
Now, whether it was his exhaustion at staying up for so long, or he was actually starting to think of outrageous, pitifully-attempted humour, but thoughts of what could be done in stupid vengeance of the humiliations on his House entered his head and, because he did not want to fight them at the moment, he gave the ideas free reign in his mind.
Lucius could see the group of Gryffindors dressed and made up like six-year-old girls. He knew a few spells and potions, that, if combined correctly, would come up with just such an effect. It was temporary, only a 24-hour spell, though. He could see all of the Gryffindor food turned to numerous things deemed inedible, from the traditional food-turned-to-ash, to more unique creations, like flobberworms for instance. Just a bit of fancy spell work could accomplish just such a trick. The Gryffindor Quidditch team could wake up one Saturday morning, ready for a match against Slytherin, only to discover that all of their brooms had been bewitched into giant daisies. And, unfortunately, the only counter-curse to such an act would have to be done by the original caster.
Several other ideas crept into his mind, but they were even more outrageous that Lucius did not even allow them to linger for long. Finally, truly exhausted, he pushed the remaining stupid thoughts from his mind, disappointed in himself for even thinking such useless and uncharacteristic thoughts, and stood up from the bed. Lucius started pacing around the room, now really seeking a way out. He knew he had to get back before too much time had passed.
As the Dark Mark on his arm gave a twinge of pain, however, Lucius realised he would not be returning to the school anytime soon. He grasped his fingers around his burning arm, allowing a slight hiss of pain to escape his lips as he looked around the room for the door. Nothing appeared.
Damn, he thought as the Mark gave another twinge. When he was just about ready to curse something, however, a sparkling object on the desk caught his eye. Walking warily over towards it, he pulled out his wand, his mind screaming that the object had not been there earlier. Lucius reached the desk and, looking down, saw exactly what the sparkling object was.
It was a tall goblet, made completely of diamonds, it looked like. There was a thin strip of paper inside the cup of the object and, slowly, Lucius reached down and removed the paper. The parchment felt very old, and the thin script of writing on the paper had a sort of ancient appearance to it. Looking down, Lucius read the few, seven words.
For when you need a way out.
“A way out?” he muttered and, dropping the paper back inside the cup, he cautiously reached out, wrapping his fingers along the stem of the glass. Once again, Lucius felt the characteristic tug of a Portkey, and within moments, he found himself no longer in the room, but rather, in another, extravagantly-furnished study, really. Shelves upon shelves of leather-bound volumes surrounded the room, but the setting was not what caught Lucius's attention. Rather, it was the occupant of the room that had a particular effect on the young Slytherin.
“I see you discovered the goblet,” said the Dark Lord, his voice calm as he gazed at the diamond object on the floor next to Lucius. The young wizard nodded.
“Yes, My Lord,” he answered, “I received your summons.”
“Ah, yes . . . I have a job for you, Lucius,” hissed the Dark Lord, removing himself from the shadows on the far side of the room and approaching the Slytherin, stopping only a few feet in front of him. “It is simple, an errand more than an assignment, really,” he said. The Dark Lord reached one of his long fingered hands into a deep pocket of his black robe, and for a brief moment, Lucius feared he was reaching for his wand.
But that was not to be the case. When the Dark Lord removed his hand, it was not grasping a wand but rather two different objects. One was a square piece of parchment, with what looked like some sort of drawing or diagram on it, and the other was an empty potions vial. Lucius just watched as the powerful wizard unfolded the parchment and laid it out on a nearby table, raising his hand to beckon Lucius to come closer.
When Lucius looked down at the parchment, he saw an exquisite drawing of an ornate silver dagger, the blade seeming to shine right off of the paper, and numerous jewels - emeralds and rubies mostly - set into the silver handle of the weapon. It was definitely one of the most unique things that the Slytherin had ever set eyes on.
“This dagger is reputed to have several magical properties to it,” said the Dark Lord, jerking Lucius's thoughts back to his Master. “Few have ever set eyes on such a thing, and most of those who have do not truly know its secrets. It is currently hidden deep within a cave, protected by forces of my own, and I want you to retrieve it, bringing it back here for me.”
At this, Lucius jerked his eyes upward, to stare directly at the Dark Lord, something that few had and would ever dare. “My Lord?” he asked.
“Yes, Lucius, I am giving you this assignment,” said the Dark Lord. “Take this Portkey,” (and here, he placed the empty vial next to the Slytherin’s hand), “and retrieve this dagger. Bring it back to me in no more than three hours.”
The seventeen-year-old wizard did not know what exactly to say to his Master. Rather, he just nodded, muttered, “Of course, My Lord,” and, attempting to keep his hand from shaking, grasped the vial. With a tug, he was off.
----
When Lucius finally arrived at his destination, he pocketed the empty potions vial and looked around. He was standing in the middle of dense, dark forest, much like the one he had been in earlier in the night when his whole initiation into the Death Eaters occurred. A nearly-full moon provided him enough light to see by without having to result to employing lumos. Slowly, he walked a bit forward, looking for somewhere that would look like an entrance to a cave.
After a few moments, he found it. The forest had sort of come to a halt at the foot of a large hill, or mountain really, and right in front of him stood a dark entrance to a cave, who knew how deep. Finally, he thought, but as he took a step forward to enter, a hissing sound caused Lucius to cease and back up. Looking down, he saw the cause of the sound.
Slithering directly in the cave’s entrance was a giant serpent, its long, brown body curled up in the cave’s entrance’s centre. Its tongue flickering in and out, it stared its black eyes at Lucius and hissed.
“Great,” Lucius muttered as he stared at the snake, the creature staring right back at him. He knew he had to get past, knew that he had to return with the dagger that was housed in the cave, otherwise . . . well, he didn’t want to think about the “otherwise.” So, pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the serpent.
“Petrificus Totalis,” he hissed, and watched as the snake froze immediately in place. He stared at it for a moment, making sure that it was not going to unfreeze and lunge at him the moment that he was in the cave’s entrance. Satisfied, Lucius cautiously approached the entrance and went inside, the serpent remaining stationary.
Exhaling a sigh of relief, Lucius continued on his trek through the cave until he came upon a tall pedestal, on top of which was the Dark Lord’s requested dagger. It didn’t seem like it had any other protections on it, but Lucius knew enough about Dark Magic to know that there was no way he would just be able to walk up and take it. So, rather than risk any injury, he just went through a multitude of spells until, tired, he half-heartedly casted a Summoning Charm. Miraculously, it worked. The dagger rose off of its stand and soared through the air, stopping right in front of Lucius, blade tip pointing away from him.
Can it really be so simple? he thought and, a firm grasp on his wand just in case he needed to cast a spell, he cautiously reached up and wrapped his fingers around the dagger’s handle. Nothing ominous happened, and so the seventeen-year-old Slytherin pocketed the weapon and made his way back to the entrance. The snake was, astonishingly, still immobilised, which made leaving the cave even easier for Lucius.
Once he was far enough from the entrance to be safe if the snake unfroze, Lucius removed the potion vial that had brought him to the cave, muttered a returning spell, and with a tug, left the forest, landing in the Dark Lord’s study once more.
As he arrived, he saw the Dark Lord rise from a chair on the far side of the room. “Did you succeed?” he asked, to which Lucius removed the dagger from his pocket, handing it to the Dark Lord.
“Excellent,” he hissed. “Well done, Lucius.”
Lucius exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. He had done it. His first assignment for the Dark Lord had been successful. The good feeling inside him, however, didn’t last very long as the Dark Lord spoke again.
“I have another assignment for you tonight,” he said, and Lucius glanced up, struggling to keep the slightly fearful expression off of his face. He wasn’t afraid of the mission; he was confident that he could pull it off. Rather, the feeling had to do with the people in the room. As if standing before the Dark Lord wasn’t intense enough, he was now joined with two of the most powerful and feared Death Eaters - Antonius Lestrange and his own father, Abraxas Malfoy. Both of them had been with the Dark Lord from the very beginning, and Lucius was familiar with Lestrange only as the father of two brothers - Rodolphus and Rabastan.
Normally, Lucius wouldn’t feel any terror standing in the presence of his father and Mr Lestrange, but seeing the two cloaked as Death Eaters, each with unreadable expressions on their face, well . . . that made things a bit different. Not to mention the fact that the Dark Lord was still glaring intensely at him. All of this combined to make the young Slytherin gaze downward, not wanting to see his father’s gaze if it held disappointment in any way.
A firm, painful grasp on his shoulder, however, brought Lucius's face upwards to stare into the eyes of his father. “Look at the Dark Lord when he is speaking to you, Lucius,” he muttered, his voice betraying a slight edge of anger as he spoke to his son. Heeding his father’s words, Lucius glanced back up, but it was not the Dark Lord who spoke next. Rather, the Dark Lord nodded towards Antonius to speak.
“Someone has deeply insulted the Dark Lord by refusing to join him, and he’s decided that they need to pay for their mistake,” said Mr Lestrange, his voice deep and slow as he looked at Lucius. Lucius just glared back at him. “You’re to go to his house tonight and kill him.”
When Antonius paused, Lucius opened his mouth to speak, many questions on his mind, but his father’s grip tightened on his shoulder, an action that he interpreted to mean that he should remain silent. And so he did, as Antonius continued.
“Don’t worry. We’ve ensured no one will get in your way, but if so, you should deal with them in like fashion. Now, wouldn’t you care to know who your victim is?”
It was only due to Abraxas’s squeezing of his son’s shoulder that Lucius realised he needed to respond. The thought of committing murder had frozen his mind for a moment. Not that this was the first time he’d killed, but this would be the first wizard that he destroyed. The others had been nothing but creatures or Muggles. Slowly, though, he nodded his head, giving only a slight swallow to still his feelings.
“You’ll be going to the home of Julius Faustus.” This time, the Dark Lord had spoken. He approached the young wizard. “Your father has already told me you are familiar with him, so this shouldn’t be difficult.” After Lucius nodded, the Dark Lord continued. “Once he is dead, leave nd cast the Dark Mark over the home. The incantation, of course, is ‘Morsmordre.’ I trust you will not disappointment me, Lucius.”
“Of course not, My Lord,” responded Lucius, struggling to speak around the lump that had formed in his throat upon hearing Julius’s name. Once he was dismissed, he shut the door behind him, but he did not head towards the Faustus’ home immediately. Instead, he leant back against the stone wall, his mind battling over his options.
Julius was his friend. Or at least, he had been his friend. He was two years older than Lucius, but the two had basically grown up together, each coming as they did from wealthy and old Pureblood families. He couldn’t murder someone who was like a brother to him, in a way.
But we haven’t spoken since he left Hogwarts, Lucius thought. I don’t know him, anymore, and he doesn’t know me. We were close, but things have changed.
But he’s Julius, the other part of his mind said. You and he were inseparable! You can’t kill your best friend!
I have to, he argued with himself. If I go in there and refuse to kill him, the Dark Lord will kill me! I have to kill him. Besides, we no longer know each other. He’s basically a stranger to me. It’s just one murder, and I’ve already taken the Dark Mark. This would cement my loyalty to the Dark Lord.
So, the part of his mind that apparently held his conscience muttered, you’d destroy your best friend because one powerful wizard felt insulted?
Pushing the guilty part of himself down for the final time, Lucius thought back his answer. Yes, he thought. Julius brought it upon himself. And with that, Lucius Disapparated to his former best friend’s home, where, with two shots of green light, he killed Julius Faustus (the nineteen-year-old wizard falling to the ground, a look of terror and confusion on his dark face) and cast a gleaming Dark Mark into the night sky above the stone mansion.
Before he left the residence, however, Lucius looked back inside the house, where Julius lay on the kitchen floor, his eyes still open. Lucius stood there, his grey eyes glued on the body of his friend, and as he Disapparated away, he felt the last bit of his innocence, of his conscience, die in silence.
He was now, truly, a Death Eater.
~*~
And that concludes another fic.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13
Length: Two-Shot
Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa
Era: Marauder-Era
Summary: “When you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy . . .” ~Albus Dumbledore. What if, to you, the right choice and the easy choice is the same thing? That is the case for seventeen-year-old Lucius Malfoy. Nearing the end of his final year at Hogwarts, the young, aristocratic Slytherin chooses to embark on a path his father has treaded. Sneaking out of the school under the eyes of that Mudblood-loving headmaster, Lucius goes to join Dumbledore’s enemy - the Dark Lord Voldemort. He believes he has made the right decision in following this path, but will he make it through all of the tests and obstacles that the Dark Lord demands of him? Will he receive the Dark Mark and prove himself worthy of joining the elite group of followers who call themselves the Death Eaters?
~*~
Part II
Lucius was not given long to stand in the circle of Death Eaters as one on an equal level. He had barely taken his place when the Dark Lord turned around, addressing the group at large.
“Tonight, we welcomed four wizards into our cause,” he said, and the Death Eaters all nodded their heads in assent. Lucius followed suit. “They have proven themselves, and more will make the same choice as they did. Those who belong are welcomed.” The speech, if one wanted to call it that, was cut abruptly short, and the groups of Death Eaters broke apart, a few going in all different directions as they left for their homes. The Dark Lord still remained, speaking with a couple of the Dark wizards, one of which, Lucius noticed, was his own father. For a brief moment, the young man contemplated approaching his father, but the need for him to make a decision was unnecessary. Two large Death Eaters - the ones who had stood at the Dark Lord’s sides during his initiation - came towards him, each of them grasping his upper arms.
“You need to come with us,” the one on his right said, though Lucius could not recognise the voice. He tried to struggle out of their grips, but the two held tightly to his arms. The young wizard ceased trying to free himself and walked with the two men.
They led him out of the forest clearing and the one on his left shoved a single golden coin into his hand. Lucius felt a tug and within seconds, the Portkey had brought him to a single, small room. It was completely structured out of thick, grey stone, and looked ominously like a prison cell in that sense. But that was the only connection to something so detested by Lucius. A fireplace was built into the far right wall, though there was no hint of a jar of Floo powder anywhere. A full-sized bed stood in the centre back of the room, and a wooden chair and desk was located in the opposite corner from the fireplace.
“Where am I?” asked Lucius, glancing over at the pair of Death Eaters who had accompanied him into the room. “What is this?”
Neither one of them responded to his questions. They each reached into their pockets and instantly disappeared before Lucius even had the opportunity to grasp his wand. What the --- he thought, glancing at the spot where the two men had just stood. Shrugging in confusion and assuming that they must have had another Portkey or something, Lucius started walking along the walls of the room, making a complete circle of his chamber.
There was no outward sign of a door or any other way to exit. He tried performing a few detection spells, but nothing came up positive. “Damn,” he hissed. But he did not take much time to dwell on his dilemma, for a great wave of exhaustion had assaulted the young wizard and, covering a yawn, Lucius stumbled over towards the bed and laid down, resting his head against the fluffy pillows. He allowed his mind to wander, something he had rarely done, especially in the last few years, and the topic that it seemed to want to think over was his choices, specifically that which had led him to where he was - a marked Death Eater in a stone chamber somewhere.
----
“Hey, Lucius, did you hear about this?” Narcissa Black said from her reclined position on the sofa in the Slytherin common room, a paper clutched in her thin hands.
Lucius Malfoy slowly lowered his book, placing in on the table in front of him and turning to face the fifth-year girl. “Hear about what, precisely?”
“There’s this new wizard, calling himself a Dark Lord, who’s attempting to unite all of the Pureblood families,” she answered. “Saying that we have the right to rule and whatnot. Basically, he’s advocating Slytherin’s code.”
“My father told me about him,” the blond-haired wizard answered, leaving his seat to join his girlfriend, the both of them looking over the paper. Several news stories littered the front page, but the largest seemed to be devoted to the story of the Pureblood cause. “Father told me that he’s connected to Salazar Slytherin, descended through his mother’s blood.”
“Well, he has the right idea,” said Narcissa. “My parents definitely think so.”
“As do mine,” said Lucius. “The purity of blood should be preserved, after all.”
----
“You wanted to see me, Father?” asked Lucius as he entered his father’s office. Abraxas Malfoy turned around to face his seventeen-year-old son.
“Yes, Lucius,” he said. “Sit down.” The younger Malfoy took a seat next to his father’s desk, as the elder wizard approached his son. “I’ve told you about the Dark Lord, and you know that your mother and I support him.” Lucius nodded. “Well, now that you’re of age, it’s time you make your own decision on whether or not to take the next step in your support of him.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
“Do you want to join the Dark Lord and his cause?” said Abraxas, looking deep into his son’s grey eyes. “Do you want to be a Death Eater, Lucius?”
“Of course,” answered the young wizard. “The Dark Lord is right, Father, and I support him.”
----
“And here I am,” muttered Lucius, gazing around at the small room, wondering if everything was worth it.
----
When Lucius next opened his eyes, he jerked up from his position on the bed and glanced at his watch. After seeing that only a half hour had passed, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least I didn’t sleep the entire night away, he thought. He turned his left arm over and looked at the Mark on his arm. It still appeared as black as it did when the Dark Lord had applied it earlier in the night and, as he reached out and ran his fingers across the outline of the skull, he felt the skin feel a bit warmer there than on the rest of his arm. Or perhaps it was just his imagination; he did not really know.
Lucius's eyes remained locked on the tattoo, numerous thoughts floating through his mind as he stared at the skull and snake. The most recent to come to his mind was that of his conversations with Narcissa, his father, and his other friends - the ones he had come with tonight. They all believed he had done the right thing; they supported his decision completely.
But there were others that Lucius knew would not. There had, and would always be those, who did not understand. He had seen them at Hogwarts, not just among the staff, but among the students as well. There were so many of them that an entire quarter of the school, an entire House, was devoted to them: The Gryffindors, what with their self-righteousness and whatnot. They thought that they were above the rest, and everyone just knew that Gryffindors were better than Slytherins.
Just the thought of them made Lucius's head hurt. Unlike himself, who actually had reasons for believing in his superiority, the Gryffindors did not. They just ran around the entire school, acting like they were the heroes who were saving Hogwarts from the evilness of all of the Slytherins. Of course, some amount of rivalry had indeed been going on between the Houses since the time of Salazar himself. But recently, especially this past year, had already grown out of control, what with that group of first-year Gryffindors who believed they were greater than seventh-years (of any House).
Lucius had seen the four boys around the school, and while normally, he would not care much what went on with first-year Gryffindors, these had caught his interest just by the pure fact that Black was one of them. Narcissa's troublesome cousin, Sirius Black, had been sorted into the House of blood traitors and Mudbloods (which really came as little surprise as, judging by Narcissa's comments, he had always been rebelling against his family). Still, these four held something of interest to him.
It had not taken long for Lucius to notice that these four boys and a first-year kid in his own House had a certain animosity between them, more so than just the average Slytherin versus Gryffindor hatred. Normally, the dramas and rivalries between the lower class members did not interest the seventeen-year-old Slytherin, but when those conflicts stretched up and affected him, well, that’s when there was a problem.
Numerous times, times that he would rather not relive, came to Lucius's mind when the first-year band of Gryffindors would pull some stunt, usually some sort of immature prank or something, whose effects would go all through Slytherin House. Usually, it involved either something to do with meals or Quidditch.
But not anymore, Lucius thought, running his hand along the Dark Mark once again. There was a certain power that seemed to come with possessing the tattoo, or so Lucius's mind wanted to believe. He had always been superior, he knew that, but this . . . well, it sort of heightened his superiority, increasing it and making it stronger.
Now, whether it was his exhaustion at staying up for so long, or he was actually starting to think of outrageous, pitifully-attempted humour, but thoughts of what could be done in stupid vengeance of the humiliations on his House entered his head and, because he did not want to fight them at the moment, he gave the ideas free reign in his mind.
Lucius could see the group of Gryffindors dressed and made up like six-year-old girls. He knew a few spells and potions, that, if combined correctly, would come up with just such an effect. It was temporary, only a 24-hour spell, though. He could see all of the Gryffindor food turned to numerous things deemed inedible, from the traditional food-turned-to-ash, to more unique creations, like flobberworms for instance. Just a bit of fancy spell work could accomplish just such a trick. The Gryffindor Quidditch team could wake up one Saturday morning, ready for a match against Slytherin, only to discover that all of their brooms had been bewitched into giant daisies. And, unfortunately, the only counter-curse to such an act would have to be done by the original caster.
Several other ideas crept into his mind, but they were even more outrageous that Lucius did not even allow them to linger for long. Finally, truly exhausted, he pushed the remaining stupid thoughts from his mind, disappointed in himself for even thinking such useless and uncharacteristic thoughts, and stood up from the bed. Lucius started pacing around the room, now really seeking a way out. He knew he had to get back before too much time had passed.
As the Dark Mark on his arm gave a twinge of pain, however, Lucius realised he would not be returning to the school anytime soon. He grasped his fingers around his burning arm, allowing a slight hiss of pain to escape his lips as he looked around the room for the door. Nothing appeared.
Damn, he thought as the Mark gave another twinge. When he was just about ready to curse something, however, a sparkling object on the desk caught his eye. Walking warily over towards it, he pulled out his wand, his mind screaming that the object had not been there earlier. Lucius reached the desk and, looking down, saw exactly what the sparkling object was.
It was a tall goblet, made completely of diamonds, it looked like. There was a thin strip of paper inside the cup of the object and, slowly, Lucius reached down and removed the paper. The parchment felt very old, and the thin script of writing on the paper had a sort of ancient appearance to it. Looking down, Lucius read the few, seven words.
For when you need a way out.
“A way out?” he muttered and, dropping the paper back inside the cup, he cautiously reached out, wrapping his fingers along the stem of the glass. Once again, Lucius felt the characteristic tug of a Portkey, and within moments, he found himself no longer in the room, but rather, in another, extravagantly-furnished study, really. Shelves upon shelves of leather-bound volumes surrounded the room, but the setting was not what caught Lucius's attention. Rather, it was the occupant of the room that had a particular effect on the young Slytherin.
“I see you discovered the goblet,” said the Dark Lord, his voice calm as he gazed at the diamond object on the floor next to Lucius. The young wizard nodded.
“Yes, My Lord,” he answered, “I received your summons.”
“Ah, yes . . . I have a job for you, Lucius,” hissed the Dark Lord, removing himself from the shadows on the far side of the room and approaching the Slytherin, stopping only a few feet in front of him. “It is simple, an errand more than an assignment, really,” he said. The Dark Lord reached one of his long fingered hands into a deep pocket of his black robe, and for a brief moment, Lucius feared he was reaching for his wand.
But that was not to be the case. When the Dark Lord removed his hand, it was not grasping a wand but rather two different objects. One was a square piece of parchment, with what looked like some sort of drawing or diagram on it, and the other was an empty potions vial. Lucius just watched as the powerful wizard unfolded the parchment and laid it out on a nearby table, raising his hand to beckon Lucius to come closer.
When Lucius looked down at the parchment, he saw an exquisite drawing of an ornate silver dagger, the blade seeming to shine right off of the paper, and numerous jewels - emeralds and rubies mostly - set into the silver handle of the weapon. It was definitely one of the most unique things that the Slytherin had ever set eyes on.
“This dagger is reputed to have several magical properties to it,” said the Dark Lord, jerking Lucius's thoughts back to his Master. “Few have ever set eyes on such a thing, and most of those who have do not truly know its secrets. It is currently hidden deep within a cave, protected by forces of my own, and I want you to retrieve it, bringing it back here for me.”
At this, Lucius jerked his eyes upward, to stare directly at the Dark Lord, something that few had and would ever dare. “My Lord?” he asked.
“Yes, Lucius, I am giving you this assignment,” said the Dark Lord. “Take this Portkey,” (and here, he placed the empty vial next to the Slytherin’s hand), “and retrieve this dagger. Bring it back to me in no more than three hours.”
The seventeen-year-old wizard did not know what exactly to say to his Master. Rather, he just nodded, muttered, “Of course, My Lord,” and, attempting to keep his hand from shaking, grasped the vial. With a tug, he was off.
----
When Lucius finally arrived at his destination, he pocketed the empty potions vial and looked around. He was standing in the middle of dense, dark forest, much like the one he had been in earlier in the night when his whole initiation into the Death Eaters occurred. A nearly-full moon provided him enough light to see by without having to result to employing lumos. Slowly, he walked a bit forward, looking for somewhere that would look like an entrance to a cave.
After a few moments, he found it. The forest had sort of come to a halt at the foot of a large hill, or mountain really, and right in front of him stood a dark entrance to a cave, who knew how deep. Finally, he thought, but as he took a step forward to enter, a hissing sound caused Lucius to cease and back up. Looking down, he saw the cause of the sound.
Slithering directly in the cave’s entrance was a giant serpent, its long, brown body curled up in the cave’s entrance’s centre. Its tongue flickering in and out, it stared its black eyes at Lucius and hissed.
“Great,” Lucius muttered as he stared at the snake, the creature staring right back at him. He knew he had to get past, knew that he had to return with the dagger that was housed in the cave, otherwise . . . well, he didn’t want to think about the “otherwise.” So, pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the serpent.
“Petrificus Totalis,” he hissed, and watched as the snake froze immediately in place. He stared at it for a moment, making sure that it was not going to unfreeze and lunge at him the moment that he was in the cave’s entrance. Satisfied, Lucius cautiously approached the entrance and went inside, the serpent remaining stationary.
Exhaling a sigh of relief, Lucius continued on his trek through the cave until he came upon a tall pedestal, on top of which was the Dark Lord’s requested dagger. It didn’t seem like it had any other protections on it, but Lucius knew enough about Dark Magic to know that there was no way he would just be able to walk up and take it. So, rather than risk any injury, he just went through a multitude of spells until, tired, he half-heartedly casted a Summoning Charm. Miraculously, it worked. The dagger rose off of its stand and soared through the air, stopping right in front of Lucius, blade tip pointing away from him.
Can it really be so simple? he thought and, a firm grasp on his wand just in case he needed to cast a spell, he cautiously reached up and wrapped his fingers around the dagger’s handle. Nothing ominous happened, and so the seventeen-year-old Slytherin pocketed the weapon and made his way back to the entrance. The snake was, astonishingly, still immobilised, which made leaving the cave even easier for Lucius.
Once he was far enough from the entrance to be safe if the snake unfroze, Lucius removed the potion vial that had brought him to the cave, muttered a returning spell, and with a tug, left the forest, landing in the Dark Lord’s study once more.
As he arrived, he saw the Dark Lord rise from a chair on the far side of the room. “Did you succeed?” he asked, to which Lucius removed the dagger from his pocket, handing it to the Dark Lord.
“Excellent,” he hissed. “Well done, Lucius.”
Lucius exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. He had done it. His first assignment for the Dark Lord had been successful. The good feeling inside him, however, didn’t last very long as the Dark Lord spoke again.
“I have another assignment for you tonight,” he said, and Lucius glanced up, struggling to keep the slightly fearful expression off of his face. He wasn’t afraid of the mission; he was confident that he could pull it off. Rather, the feeling had to do with the people in the room. As if standing before the Dark Lord wasn’t intense enough, he was now joined with two of the most powerful and feared Death Eaters - Antonius Lestrange and his own father, Abraxas Malfoy. Both of them had been with the Dark Lord from the very beginning, and Lucius was familiar with Lestrange only as the father of two brothers - Rodolphus and Rabastan.
Normally, Lucius wouldn’t feel any terror standing in the presence of his father and Mr Lestrange, but seeing the two cloaked as Death Eaters, each with unreadable expressions on their face, well . . . that made things a bit different. Not to mention the fact that the Dark Lord was still glaring intensely at him. All of this combined to make the young Slytherin gaze downward, not wanting to see his father’s gaze if it held disappointment in any way.
A firm, painful grasp on his shoulder, however, brought Lucius's face upwards to stare into the eyes of his father. “Look at the Dark Lord when he is speaking to you, Lucius,” he muttered, his voice betraying a slight edge of anger as he spoke to his son. Heeding his father’s words, Lucius glanced back up, but it was not the Dark Lord who spoke next. Rather, the Dark Lord nodded towards Antonius to speak.
“Someone has deeply insulted the Dark Lord by refusing to join him, and he’s decided that they need to pay for their mistake,” said Mr Lestrange, his voice deep and slow as he looked at Lucius. Lucius just glared back at him. “You’re to go to his house tonight and kill him.”
When Antonius paused, Lucius opened his mouth to speak, many questions on his mind, but his father’s grip tightened on his shoulder, an action that he interpreted to mean that he should remain silent. And so he did, as Antonius continued.
“Don’t worry. We’ve ensured no one will get in your way, but if so, you should deal with them in like fashion. Now, wouldn’t you care to know who your victim is?”
It was only due to Abraxas’s squeezing of his son’s shoulder that Lucius realised he needed to respond. The thought of committing murder had frozen his mind for a moment. Not that this was the first time he’d killed, but this would be the first wizard that he destroyed. The others had been nothing but creatures or Muggles. Slowly, though, he nodded his head, giving only a slight swallow to still his feelings.
“You’ll be going to the home of Julius Faustus.” This time, the Dark Lord had spoken. He approached the young wizard. “Your father has already told me you are familiar with him, so this shouldn’t be difficult.” After Lucius nodded, the Dark Lord continued. “Once he is dead, leave nd cast the Dark Mark over the home. The incantation, of course, is ‘Morsmordre.’ I trust you will not disappointment me, Lucius.”
“Of course not, My Lord,” responded Lucius, struggling to speak around the lump that had formed in his throat upon hearing Julius’s name. Once he was dismissed, he shut the door behind him, but he did not head towards the Faustus’ home immediately. Instead, he leant back against the stone wall, his mind battling over his options.
Julius was his friend. Or at least, he had been his friend. He was two years older than Lucius, but the two had basically grown up together, each coming as they did from wealthy and old Pureblood families. He couldn’t murder someone who was like a brother to him, in a way.
But we haven’t spoken since he left Hogwarts, Lucius thought. I don’t know him, anymore, and he doesn’t know me. We were close, but things have changed.
But he’s Julius, the other part of his mind said. You and he were inseparable! You can’t kill your best friend!
I have to, he argued with himself. If I go in there and refuse to kill him, the Dark Lord will kill me! I have to kill him. Besides, we no longer know each other. He’s basically a stranger to me. It’s just one murder, and I’ve already taken the Dark Mark. This would cement my loyalty to the Dark Lord.
So, the part of his mind that apparently held his conscience muttered, you’d destroy your best friend because one powerful wizard felt insulted?
Pushing the guilty part of himself down for the final time, Lucius thought back his answer. Yes, he thought. Julius brought it upon himself. And with that, Lucius Disapparated to his former best friend’s home, where, with two shots of green light, he killed Julius Faustus (the nineteen-year-old wizard falling to the ground, a look of terror and confusion on his dark face) and cast a gleaming Dark Mark into the night sky above the stone mansion.
Before he left the residence, however, Lucius looked back inside the house, where Julius lay on the kitchen floor, his eyes still open. Lucius stood there, his grey eyes glued on the body of his friend, and as he Disapparated away, he felt the last bit of his innocence, of his conscience, die in silence.
He was now, truly, a Death Eater.
~*~
And that concludes another fic.
~Megan