A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Here ya go. This one is a dark chapter but not overly descriptive in any way.



Chapter 64- Sire and Spawn

“Mother, I have to get you out of here. It’s the only way to keep you away from Father.”

“Draco!” came the aggrieved voice of Narcissa Malfoy, rounding on her son in the Shacklebolt’s master bedroom. The outraged matriarch of the Malfoy clan sent the door slamming behind her only child, casting a Silencing charm and double locking spell on it as well.

“Have you no common sense? Your father could return at any time. It surely wouldn’t do for him to torture Mrs. Shacklebolt’s children again for eavesdropping, now would it?”

Draco let his head drop for a moment. In his quest to help his mother and indirectly, the Order of the Phoenix, he had completely let his awareness of the Shacklebolt family’s plight slip by his radar. It was something he considered to be inevitable. They were casualties of this insidious plot that his father harbored. If only his father would kill the children and get it over with. Their haunted eyes peered through the banister of the upstairs rail like wraiths on the moor of Scotland. They were waiting for death, welcoming it. There was nothing else for them to hope for within the confines of this be-damned house.

“No, Mother. You know I’ve no wish to see them suffer any more than necessary. The fact remains, I have to get you out of here!”

“Darling, if I leave, what chance do these good people have of survival?”

“They’re as good as dead and you know it!” Draco confronted his mother angrily. How could she not see that there was no saving the inhabitants of this cursed place?

“If they die, then I shall die with them.” Narcissa folded her arms across her chest, drawing on generations of Black family impetuousness to appear imposing.

Draco wasn’t fooled. “Mum,” he pleaded, “what purpose would your death serve? There is no point in staying here. Come with me! We can make a difference, fight against Father! Make others see reason! This has gone too far, and Father is hiding something from us. I can feel it!”

Mother and son stared at each other, neither willing to back down. The cool set of his mother’s eyes told him her final answer. She was not going to leave, out of whatever sense of misplaced loyalty she held toward his father’s captives.

“I don’t understand. Please make me understand. I can’t lose you too,” he whispered, falling to his knees.

Narcissa closed the gap between them, kneeling in front of him and cupping his chin. “I’m tired of fighting, running, pretending, Draco. Your father is no longer the man I fell in love with. I once believed in the cause of the Dark Lord, for the sake of your father. The purity of wizarding bloodlines and all the garbage that went with it sounded so, so..-“ she choked, “noble and sensible at the time. How I ever believed in that line of tripe is beyond me. I’ve contributed to far too many innocent deaths already. Your father already suspects my allegiance to his cause. If I leave now these people will suffer needlessly. My presence here ensures a modicum of normalcy to their wretched lives.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Draco was oblivious to the fact that his father could Apparate into that room at any given moment. He was flabbergasted by his mother’s misplaced devotion. What a petty sacrifice the lives of one family were in the scheme of things, but her justifications were all she had to cling to in the hope it somehow absolved her of the past travesty she had been party to.

“He’s going to kill you.” It wasn’t a warning, it was a fact they both knew. He just felt the need to say it one last time, to accept it before leaving her behind. His mother; the only person who had ever truly loved him was resigning herself to death at his father’s hands.

“I know, Draco my love. I know. It is my destiny.”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way!” he cried, violently flinging her arm from his face, rising to his feet in the heat of the moment.

“There is a great deal you have to learn, my son,” she replied calmly.

“You’re a selfish, self-righteous, impetuous, ungrateful martyr!” he screamed, unable to comprehend. It was time for him to leave, but he seemed rooted to where he stood.

“Goodbye Draco,” his mother said softly, blowing him a kiss while calmly turning to take the charms off the door.

All the hot air seemed to rush from his being at once, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I love you Mother,” he replied dully. “I hope what you’re doing makes a difference, even though I can’t see how it will, in the end.”

Narcissa crossed back over to her son and embraced him with all of a mother’s love one final time. They stood there, clutching one another perilously.

Draco felt something drop into the pocket of his robes before they released one another. He gave her a questioning glance.

“A parting gift; it will keep you safe and aid your quest,” she smiled.

“I love you Mother. Goodbye.” Draco’s steely grey eyes were grave as he regarded her, etching her memory into his mind. A single tear slipped down her cheek as he Apparated.

Narcissa Malfoy pursed her lips as the thundering shout of her husband broke the still of the moment.

“Coming dear!” she called, shutting the bedroom door behind her while sending the Shacklebolt children scuttling for the perceived safety of their shared bedroom. She entered his study, wrinkling her nose at the odd smells that assaulted her senses when she came through the door. His eyes gleamed with the high that came from his new favorite drug. Cocaine, was it? It made his skin turn flush and eyes glassy, and he was usually a much more heinous bastard when he was high.

“Where’s Draco?” he demanded from behind his desk, boots perched precariously on a stack of neglected Ministry documents.

“He’s gone,” she murmured, seeming to float across the room to his window, staring sightlessly onto the once beautiful grounds of the estate. Everything looked grey now, like her husband’s eyes. It was once a color she could get lost in, full of love and life. Now there was only blackness and hate. Yet, hadn’t it always been there? She was a fool to have worn the rose-colored glassed he had so readily presented her, all those years ago when courting. What young woman could not feel flattered with the attentions of the proud, rich, handsome Malfoy heir?

“What do you mean, he’s gone? I told him not to leave! I need him here to run things!” Lucius snapped, wrenching his feet from the desk while papers scattered wildly.

“He’s gone,” she repeated, turning to face the inevitable. “He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

“Explain!” came the instant fury she knew her response would provoke. The telltale sign of barely restrained violence burst forth at his temple, his blood pressure level rising dangerously under the strain of drugs and rage.

“Draco has decided that he no longer wishes to be a part of this life with us. He feels your ideals are misguided.”

“What. Did. You. Say?” The deadly intent of those four words was not lost on Narcissa when her husband came within an inch of her face. She did not flinch when his hand came up to crush her cheeks in consternation.

“Our son is lost to us, Lucius. Surely you saw this coming.”

“And you just let him leave?”

“How could I stop him?”

“You should have killed him you fucking bitch!” The great blond monster drew his hand away and backhanded his wife with every ounce of strength he possessed. Narcissa cried out as she was flung the short distance to the wall, crumpling in a heap of pale robes and blood seeping from her mouth.

Lucius felt every pore of his being throbbing with black magic. Like sweat, it oozed from each fiber within and welled up out of his mouth in a mighty roar that sent the very foundation of the estate trembling under the exodus of outpouring. He needed to kill something, someone; rip it limb from limb, fuck it until every bit of power obliterated it from the planet.

The answer was right in front of him. Narcissa. He could kill her. She deserved it, had betrayed him by turning their son against him.

No. This was Cissy. She had loved him, stood by him, he couldn’t kill her. She was all he had left.

Kill her! Just do it! You are the next fucking ruler of the magical world! Don’t let her stand in your way!

The blackness was crashing in on him, his mind higher than a kite and the pounding in his ears making him insane with power and death.

Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

The mantra was his heartbeat, each breath, every wish he had ever made. The last bit of identity that was the old Lucius Malfoy screamed in agony and Apparated the beast he had become to someplace on a rocky outcrop by the sea. The remains of an old castle stood and he let all his wrath and anguish pour out into the destruction of the old structure.

Stones flew from the foundation, flying several hundred feet into the air in all directions. Black and red fire poured from his wand like liquid venom as he cut a swath at its base, the roar continuing to emanate from his throat in a never-ending tide of emotion.

The ring around his neck burned on its chain against his pale flesh, white hot with the Dark power coursing through its owner. A foreboding wind swept up from the ocean, clouds darkening and thunder rolling in from the sea. Lightening cracked as sheets of rain started to pound the jagged surface, cutting into his cloak and hair as if trying to wipe the evil from his soul.

Lucius began chanting in an old dialect, the words coming unbidden to his mouth and rife with ancient power. His possessed arms drew long-forgotten symbols in the air, striking the very particles with silver marked in black and red. The very words become objects that seemed to mix with the symbols, entwining, snake-like into a maelstrom of color and plasma. Definite forms begin to take shape and feed off one another, the line stretching quickly along the outcrop and along the cliff. Each form broke off from its neighbor, solidifying into a mass of gnarled flesh, claws, teeth and beady eyes.

Lucius realized he was no longer controlling the flow of power. He was unable to stop it from pouring forth into the ripe, static air permeated with the formation of the Dark creatures. Hundreds of the vile things were now crowding around him, each one hunched on huge back legs, resting lightly on formidable front claws that were a mix of hands and feet. It was unnerving how distinctly twisted, but human their faces were, their bodies more closely resembling a squat werewolf.

The flow of energy came to an abrupt halt as Malfoy fell to the ground, spent in every sense of being. Lucius realized that at some point he had ejaculated into his trousers. The sticky come was still dripping from his flaccid cock within its confines. Hearing the snuffling of the creatures, he rose to take command of the beasts grunting all around him. The ring pulsed gently now against his breast, the heat suffused to a dull throb against his burnt skin. Infused knowledge flooded his brain, the type of creature he had brought forth, its powers and limitations, and what it could do to further his cause.

A wicked sneer curled on his lip as he found renewed strength in his mindless army of Dark creatures.

“Slaystrikers! Hear me! I hold the ring of the great Betrayer Merlin!”

A dull roar erupted from the horrid maw of roughly two hundred mouths, all hungry and slavering.

“I am your Master, and you will obey me in bringing down all who oppose us! You have all lain in wait these past millennia, and I know you must be ravenous for flesh and mates! Go forth and feast on all this land has to offer, but hear this!”

The beasts known in his mind as Slaystrikers had begun to shift in anticipation of their release, the hum of horror under their feet itching to sate long starved lusts for meat.

“Know that you will answer to me and to the one known as Rabastan Lestrange. You will stay within the countryside or dark places of the city. Do not show yourselves. Take prey at night and keep away from humans unless you fuck them or kill them. You will be my eyes and ears, my spies of the dark! Listen at windows and doors, fuck the flesh you crave and use your power to make them forget. Search for the ones called Hermione Granger, Teddy Lupin, and Severus Snape. They are to be brought to me alive and unharmed. Their fate is for me alone! Now go, and be the terror in the hearts of all who dare oppose Lucius Malfoy!”

Answering grunts and cries of triumph echoed across the stark countryside. One by one the creatures bounded away into the mist of the growing gloom to disperse in opposite directions. The dying bleat of sheep could be heard in the distance as a sated Lucius dimly remembered his second in command still lying in agony on the floor of his subterranean playground. With a lusty sigh, he Apparated back to Snape Manor.

It had been hours since he had left Rabastan to suffer in blackness. He idly thought about what a pain in the arse it would be to have to find someone to replace him in case he had died. The scrape of his boots and a simple “Lumos” revealed the crusty form of the big man, unmoving in the dirt. A slight rise and fall from his chest was the only indicator that he was not dead.

“I suppose you’re not up to looking into the chamber tonight, are you my foolish friend.” Lucius stroked his chin, feeling the need to rest himself. The surge of power that had been brought upon him had almost gutted out all magical reserve. His levels of energy were dangerously low, and there was no way he could hold an inverted Patronus to hold off the Dementors in the cavern.

Digging into the final bit of his strength, Lucius Apparated with his friend to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, leaving him there, and then back to Shacklebolt’s to collapse. Even an impending God was not immune to the extreme limits of physical and magical endurance.

--

Remus Lupin pushed open the doors of the Three Broomsticks, frustrated with being unable to find Rabastan. Minerva had told him that the big man had gone off to see Lucius but had assumed he was back in the village by now, stalling for time before heading back. They all needed to work on lesson plans and submit them to the Headmistress. The start of the term was coming up.

A sixth sense led him to take a walk along the outskirts of the village. It wasn’t like him to do something uncharacteristic of the usual routine, but something told him that tonight this action was necessary. Within minutes the form of Lestrange came into view and Lupin bit back a cry of dismay. He couldn’t imagine what had brought this powerful man down into an unconscious heap. He Apparated with Rabastan back to the gates of the castle before levitating his body through various passageways to the man’s bedchamber.

A quick summoning of Poppy and Minerva revealed extensive and prolonged damage wrought by the Cruciatus curse. No one needed to tell them who had inflicted this on him. Minerva and Poppy had seen Severus in the same condition many times before. They healed him, gave him the required potions and then settled him to rest. It would take days for him to recover full strength from the encounter.

Poppy summoned Ava to sit with him while the three convened in the Potion masters study.

“What was he doing outside Hogsmeade?” Minerva worried, more to herself than as a question.

“I wish I could tell you. I’d looked all over the place, including the pub. I followed my instincts to take a walk around the village. It paid off.” Lupin flicked his eyes up at the two women and back down to a small bauble he was twirling in his fingers.

“Well, I am very grateful to you Remus, for finding him and bringing him home. A night of exposure surely would have done him in. The loss would have been tragic and unfathomable!”

Poppy clucked in agreement and took her leave, claiming duties in the infirmary.

Lupin ran one hand through his hair, keeping hold of the back of his head in consternation.

“Why didn’t he take Colin with him? Wasn’t that the whole point of getting him involved?”

“Yes, but he was summoned alone. We will not have the answer to that until Professor Lestrange wakes.”

“Do you think Malfoy took him to Snape Manor?”

Minerva nodded. “Yes, that is my hope. If there is any truth to the Prophecy and the translations Hermione has done, Rabastan would be the one to know first.”

“It troubles me, the whole thing with Colin.” Lupin frowned. “It makes me think Lucius suspects something. I don’t know if we made the right decision, trying to ingratiate Professor Fishwick into the inner circle with Professor Lestrange. How do we know he isn’t going to be killed the next time he goes in front of Lucius?”

“Unfortunately, none of us can be sure of anything about Lucius until Rabastan is able to give us more information beyond what Severus has provided. There is obvious power in his ability to manipulate the Ministry and its machinations thus far. I cannot put anything past him at this point. There has got to be something more to this whole mess. I just wish I knew what it was. I’m not half the person Albus was in regards to planning and espionage.”

The older woman looked defeated, sitting in her gorgeous green robes and pointed hat. Remus took several strides over to her and put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Hey. We’re all in this together. No one says you have to do everything the same way Dumbledore did. You can count on the Order to take care of one another. Let us handle some of the work. That’s what friends are for.”

Minerva lifted her chin and let a small smile touch her lips. “Thank you for your kind words young man. You have no idea how it warms my heart to have your support and that of the others.”

He squeezed her shoulder and they left together to scrape together a hot meal from the House-Elves.