Chapter 56.1- Doom Days

XXXXX- LUCIUS MALFOY

“Are you certain this is the place, Lucius?” He heard his Lord’s sibilant voice hiss through the mask he had now taken to wearing and nodded. He was certain this was the place. Of course he was. He wasn’t a fool. And even if he had been a fool, he would still have had enough self-preservation instincts to know that information taken to The Dark Lord could not just be confirmed once. He had one of his remaining contacts on the Board of Governors get a copy of the boy’s Hogwarts Letter during an audit— why the boy chose to sleep in a cupboard of all places he did not know. And then he’d gone to the trouble of checking he address written on the Improper Use of Magic notice the ministry sent out in 1992.

Needless to say, he was sure. He was more than certain.

“Then tell me why there are no wards, Lucius” His Lord hissed again. No wards? That was impossible. There were supposed to be Blood Wards here. Fudge had said as much when Lucius asked.

“I do not know, My Lord. Perhaps this might be a trap of some sort and we should return at a different time” There was no reply, and like often happened when one had The Dark Lord’s attention and he lapsed into silence, Lucius began reviewing what he had just said. Could he have phrased it better? Had he been disrespectful? Was he going to be crucio’d within an inch of his life now? Even worse, could he just be killed? It happened rarely, but that did not mean it did not happen at all. Lucius was fairly confident he was too important for such a fate, but what were the chances?

The Dark Lord chuckled and Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. “Let he who would dare lay a trap for Lord Voldemort live to rue the day. We proceed.”

“Yes, my lord” he did not allow any of the apprehension he felt show on his face as they crossed the muggle road. It was an interesting neighborhood these muggles lived in. For one, they all chose to live in the same type of house. No variety, no originality. Of course, animals like muggles were would struggle to find the higher brain function necessary for creativity and style. But surely they could manage to paint things another colour than pastel? And then there were the gardens, and even down to the carriages they used for transport, they were all alike.

Was it some defence mechanism? Safety in anonymity amongst the group? He scoffed. They were not safe. The Dark Lord waved his wand and Lucius shuddered as he felt wards settle over his skin. The Dark Mark made him extraordinarily sensitive to his Lord’s magic. Bellatrix saw it as the greatest gift imaginable, but Lucius knew that whatever benefits the mark gave, it was not worth it when one considered just what it meant for when they were punished. The tremors in his right hand from the last cruciatus still persisted after all.