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Prisms of Darkness	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 34497 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Lildaani!
Chapter 8
His blond eyebrows knitted together into a frown as he stared at the handsome lad sitting in the front of the room.
As was custom, most of the Death Eaters hid behind their masks and remained silent. However, tension hung in the air, less easily disguised than facial expressions. Many of them, it appeared, shared his feelings. He was very much infuriated by the boy's blatant display of indifference and condescension, but on the other hand, he was befuddled. That was the main reason why he had refrained from hexing the stranger on the spot.

It was ridiculous, really. If he had been expecting something, it was anything but this.

Two and a half weeks ago, the Dark Lord had informed them that he was traveling to China since the Ministry of Magic there had been hesitant in their decision about forming an alliance. It had been three days since the Dark Lord's alleged return date, but Lucius was hardly worried. Despite the nervous whispers of certain individuals, he highly doubted that the Chinese Ministry of Magic could have detained their master. He'd never questioned the ability of the Dark Lord, and he wasn't about to begin to do so.

To anyone else, throwing his lot in with the Dark Lord might have seemed like a gamble. To Lucius Malfoy, however, it had simply been an investment. True, it meant that he had had to subject himself to another's will, but it was a relationship that was ultimately beneficial. He could care less about the innumerable Galleons that came with the Malfoy name; the Dark Lord could have as much of it as he wanted. They were only useful to him for the power they could buy. He had been sure the Dark Lord would succeed, and then he, Lucius, would have gotten what he truly craved: more power.

The Dark Lord's trip had, more or less, worked in his favor. Bellatrix was the first to have brought it to his attention. The idea that the Dark Lord fancied the Mudblood was as disturbing as it was alarming. Although he relaid the rumor back to his wife as if it was some kind of sick joke, he knew that he must take precautions. Allowing Granger the possibility of attaining a position higher in authority than the Malfoys would, undoubtedly, put him and his family in danger.

His lips curled into a smirk as he thought about the steps he had arranged within the past few days. Nobody would ever trace it back to him.

Masking his feelings behind a blank expression, his eyes flickered around the room, trying to pick up clues that would help him figure out the identity of the lad at the front of the room.

He was thoroughly surprised when he noticed Dolohov amongst the Death Eaters kneeling. Very suspicious, indeed. The haughty man was one of the first to have joined the Dark Lord's ranks. Therefore, either the Dark Lord had already made an appearance before Lucius arrived or the young man was a person of high importance. Otherwise, it would be virtually impossible to subdue Antonin Dolohov.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly when they landed on his sister-in-law. The intensity with which she was gazing at the young man sitting so haughtily at the front of the room was telling in itself. The glee on her face and her slightly shaking hands were merely confirmations to his theory. If he had been anyone else, some random, common, unworthy wizard, his mask of calmness would've shattered and surprise would have marked its presence on his features.

His attention was caught by the wand dangling from the young man's right hand and a shiver ran down his spine. The wand was all too familiar to him, after spending hours suffering under the Cruciatus Curse administered by it. The dark eyes of the wand's owner were glinting with too much amusement amidst all the tension, alerting him of the danger he might be facing.

Without a second thought, he fell to his knees. Beside him, Draco quickly imitated his actions.

"My Lord," Lucius murmured.

A couple of the other people followed suit, knowing that Lucius Malfoy must have seen something they had not. The others, however, were thoroughly confused by his words and mutters of suspicion erupted throughout the room.

"My Lord," Bellatrix whispered, taking a few steps forward so that she could be closer to the Dark Lord, "you have returned."

The faint smirk that appeared on the young man's face confirmed Lucius's thoughts and Bellatrix's words, causing a couple more people to drop down to their knees. The remaining people who were standing stared at one another, an atmosphere of unease in the air.

"I suppose I should forgive your confusion," the young man spoke, his voice, though soft, clearly reaching each person's ears. "After all, not many of you have seen Lord Voldemort before ... certain transformations."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Rodolphus Lestrange, kneeling a short distance away from him. He doubted that Rodolphus knew what their Master had looked like before his "transformations". Yet, he was one of the first ones kneeling down. How did Rodolphus know, beforehand, who the young man was?

A sarcastic smile graced the Dark Lord's features when no one moved.

"Or perhaps," he mused, "you need a bit more incentive to recognize your Lord."

With a casual flick of his wand, the people who were standing fell to the floor, howling in agony.

The Dark Lord watched them coldly, all signs of nonchalance gone from his face. It was clear, to Lucius and some of the others who dared to peek at the scene that was playing out in front of them, that their Master was using this as a chance to warn them: by no means had the physical changes affected his competence in magic. Any wrong moves or thoughts on their parts would bring about painful consequences.

"Do you still doubt who I am?" he asked, releasing them from his curse.

They slowly crawled up to the Dark Lord, panting, and kissed the hems of his robe.

"Forgive us, Master," they murmured.

Cruel, dark eyes roved over them and pale, long fingers tapped absent-mindedly on the arm of the chair.

"The Chinese Ministry of Magic, unfortunately, has not accepted my proposal—yet," the Dark Lord spoke. Apparently, the penance of those who had doubted him mattered little to him. "Rabastan is still negotiating with them and will not be attending the meetings for the time being."

They remained quiet, waiting for either further information or instructions. The only sounds were made by those still hoping for their master's forgiveness.

"Silence," the Dark Lord coldly commanded, "unless you wish to incur the wrath of Lord Voldemort."

Almost immediately, the room became silent.

The Dark Lord propped up his face with his hand, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Vaginov, the head of the Russian Auror Department, promised to stay out of our way as long as we do not attack the country," he continued to say, amusement once again apparent in his eyes, "something which I plan on doing anyway."

For the time being, Lucius added in his mind.

"He requests that I send someone to persuade the Russian Prime Minister," the Dark Lord continued, his eyes sliding over to Dolohov.

Dolohov nodded his head, acknowledging what was requested of him. "Yes, my Lord." And with a soft pop, he Disapparated away.

One by one, each of the Death Eaters left the room after they were given their assignments, until only Draco and Lucius were left.

"I've heard that your Potions skills are rather impressive, Draco," the Dark Lord commented.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied, his head bowed low.

"Second only to Miss Granger."

Lucius frowned slightly, worried that Draco might answer the question wrongly or let his anger work its way into his manners.

A moment of silence followed, before Draco answered in a strained voice, "Yes, my Lord."

Lucius relaxed upon hearing his answer, knowing that the boy was far from losing his temper.

"I need a potion concocted within two weeks," the Dark Lord said, leaning back on his chair and twirling his wand idly while he looked out the window.

Lucius took this chance to examine the "new" Dark Lord. A shiver involuntarily ran down his spine. He wondered how he missed the subtle yet powerful waves of dark magic pulsing from the man sitting in front of him. It seemed as though the Dark Lord was currently enjoying the idea of pretending to be harmless. Lucius pitied those who dared to underestimate this "charming" young man.

The pale, long-fingered hands had lost their spidery look, another change that had transpired during the Dark Lord's absence. Dark waves of hair framed a face with what would have been angelic features, if only there had not been a sneer contorting them.

Lucius quickly looked down when the Dark Lord glanced back at them. A ring was levitated and dropped in front of Draco.

"The Portkey will take you to the location," the Dark Lord said. "The instructions are on the table, next to cauldron." His dark eyes drifted over to Lucius and faint amusement saturated his next words. "You may go with him if you're ... concerned for his safety, Lucius."

"My Lord," Lucius said, "my family and I live to serve you. I'm hardly worried about Draco's safety. However, I would be most grateful if my Lord would allow me to satisfy my curiosity ...."

A sarcastic smile appeared on the Dark Lord's face as he sent a demeaning look towards Lucius, a sign of how much he actually believed him.

"You may visit him when you please, Lucius," he replied, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes thoughtful. "I have something else for you to do, however, so you are expected to return here within a week."

Lucius permitted an expression of mild interest to appear on his face. However, it seemed that he was not going to get an answer, since the Dark Lord returned to giving specific instructions to Draco before they were allowed to take the Portkey.

They exchanged a glance with one another when they reached their destination. The house, or at least, the living room of the house was not overly luxurious, but it was quite cozy and comfortable. The fire was dancing merrily in the brick fireplace, flanked by two armchairs. The wall behind the armchairs were lined with shelves of books. A single side table sat beside each chair, supposedly for the occupant to put their books or drinks. The hard-wood flooring was covered with a soft, Persian rug and the windows were half covered by dark green curtains.

"What is this? A summer hideaway?" Draco commented as he peered through the window.

A snowstorm was building in strength outside the house, although there were no traces of it inside. Apparently, a Silencing Charm had been placed around the house to block out the sounds. The winds were so strong that the trees seemed like they were about to have their roots upturned. The roads were long covered by the white blanket.

"Draco, take care of your words," Lucius reminded him, quite aware of the fact that his son would forget his place whenever they were not in the presence of the Dark Lord.

Draco nodded offhandedly, strolling around the house as if it was some kind of museum.

"Draco," Lucius called out, a frown settling on his forehead again.

Draco gazed away from the glass menagerie inside a display cabinet.

Lucius heaved a sigh and approached his son. In a lower voice, he warned, "I know I've been telling you this for years. However, this is the first time the Dark Lord requested for you to prepare a potion for him. Do not allow yourself to be careless."

The boy had to understand that even if the Dark Lord was not near them, it did not mean that they were not under surveillance.

"I understand, Father," he replied quietly.

Lucius nodded, glad that his son understood what he meant, and looked out of the window. Snowflakes pelted soundlessly against the window, as if they were looking for a way to enter the house. Each second passing strengthened his determination. He would not allow his family to be condemned again.

Even if it meant his life.

________________________________________

Three days later, Lucius returned to the Dark Lord's mansion as he had been instructed to do. A slight frown creased his forehead as he followed a house-elf to the study. Strangely enough, there weren't any Death Eaters patrolling the hallways. What was even odder was the fact that the wards around the mansion seemed to be weaker than usual. Try as he might, Lucius could not think of a reason why.

After approximately forty minutes of waiting, the Dark Lord Apparated into the room and swirled into the chair behind the table.

"Lucius," he nodded, adjusting the chair to a position he deemed comfortable.

"My Lord," Lucius murmured.

"Impeccable timing," the Dark Lord commented, a faint smile appearing on his pale face.

Lucius lowered his gaze slightly in a way that could be interpreted as respect; truthfully, he had yet to get used to his master's new features. It unnerved him, speaking to someone whose actions contrasted so greatly with his looks.

"Thank you, my Lord," he answered.

Drumming his left hand on the armrest, the Dark Lord rested his chin on the back of his right hand, his eyes contemplative and looking away from Lucius.

"The Order will try to infiltrate our Headquarters today," he informed him. An amused smile graced his features. "I trust that you've already noticed that the wards have been weakened."

"Yes, my Lord."

"It shouldn't be noticeable to those who are not familiar with this place," the Dark Lord said, his eyes scanning the room before he chuckled.

"I didn't notice it at first glance, my Lord, so I doubt the Order members would know the difference," Lucius confirmed, his head slightly bowed.

The Dark Lord nodded, his face suddenly serious as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Do you recall a Gryffindor by the name of Dean Thomas?"

Lucius furrowed his eyebrows in thought, until a particular face appeared in his mind's eye.

"Yes, my Lord, I believe I do," he answered.

The Dark Lord raised his eyebrow. With a flick of his wrist, a photograph on top of the table flew in front of Lucius, who caught it and studied it. "The tall, dark one."

"My Lord, I don't see ...."

"You are to allow him through the wards, Lucius," the Dark Lord instructed. "You are to lead him, without letting him know, to the library."

________________________________________

Grey eyes concentrated on the orange flames flickering in the fireplace. He was displeased. No, that word didn't even express a small fraction of what he was feeling.

"Lucius." A soft, petite hand was placed on his shoulder. Without thinking, he placed his hand over it, taking comfort from the familiarity and warmth in it. "Is something wrong?"

As much as it pained Lucius to rein in his anger, he did not want Narcissa to worry too much. If he told her how that disgusting little Mudblood had disgraced him in front of the Dark Lord, she was bound to start fretting again.

Absentmindedly, Lucius stroked Narcissa's hand before pulling her in front of him.

"What should I do?" he mused, more to himself than to her.

She tilted her head to the side, and for a moment there, he could almost see the young woman he had married so many years ago. She knelt down and placed her other hand on his knee. A gentle smile appeared on his face and he cupped her cheek with his free hand.

A "crack" disturbed their moment of peace, causing both occupants of the room to look away from one another.

"Bellatrix," Lucius greeted her with a nod of his head and a guarded look.

He didn't exactly loath the woman (although her insanity had thrown him off-kilter many times already), but neither did he trust her.

"Hello, Lucius," Bellatrix greeted him, a grin plastered on her face. It did not take a genius to figure out why she was so pleased. "How did the mission go today?" she asked sweetly.

A bit too sweetly.

"I would be tremendously surprised if you had not already heard what happened," Lucius replied, his expression cool, hiding his true emotions.

"Oh, silly me. Of course," Bellatrix giggled, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "Did the Dark Lord punish the little Mudblood?"

It was, again, clear that she already knew the answer.

"No," he answered, tightening his grip around Narcissa's hand.

His wife gave him a little squeeze, expressing her support for him although she probably had no idea what was going on. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she gave him a small smile.

"Didn't I tell you? Is this not proof enough that our Lord is changing?"

The blond didn't answer. To him, it was hardly enough "proof" that the Dark Lord was changing, unless she meant that he was getting more powerful and more threatening.

However, Bellatrix interpreted his silence in her own way. "What did I tell you? We have to get rid of the Mudblood before our Lord turns weak."

Narcissa's eyes widened in alarm, but she bit her lower lip to refrain from speaking up. She knew as much as Lucius did how mental the woman could be when it came to the Dark Lord.

"Think about it, Lucius. The little Mudblood has always had always had something against our family. And now that she's so close to the Dark Lord—" Annoyance flashed through her eyes. "—she will try to interfere with the activities of the Death Eaters," Bella concluded.

That particular worry was not unique to Bellatrix Lestrange; many Death Eaters were already murmuring in secret about the influence the Mudblood might have over their master. Some were even speculating that it was matter of time before the Dark Lord's wand would be pointed towards them whenever the Mudblood wanted him to do so.

"What do you propose?" he asked, lowering his eyes and hiding his emotions.

Fear flooded into Narcissa's eyes and he gave her hand another squeeze, wordlessly telling her not to worry.

His deal with Bellatrix Lestrange would be limited to the point where it was beneficial to him. He was not going to let his insane sister-in-law use him or get him in danger.

To allow that to happen would be unthinkable.

________________________________________

Lucius stood outside the dungeons, waiting for Macnair and Mulciber to finish their torturing session with the Gryffindor boy.

Although he had been surprised when he had seen the Dark Lord appear in the library with his former snake-like looks, it was nothing compared to this. When he had been given this task, he had seriously considered hexing the Dark Lord to see if it was someone else under the Polyjuice Potion. It was truly a disgrace to the name of Malfoy.

"Lucius," Macnair greeted him as they walked out of the dungeon.

Mulciber, on the other hand, was not as courteous. Lucius, of course, could care less about what he was thinking. His lips promptly curved into a sneer of its own.

"Got your arse kicked by the silly little Mudblood, didn't you?" Mulciber smirked.

"Perhaps you should worry about yourself, Mulciber, instead of sticking your nose into other people's business," Lucius narrowed his eyes.

"And you call yourself a Death Eater? You couldn't even stop a girl from Stunning you!" Mulciber continued, causing the blond's eyes to narrow to mere slits.

"Mulciber, we still need to report back to the Dark Lord," Macnair reminded him quietly, breaking the tension between the two.

The two men shared another glare before Mulciber and Macnair Apparated away.

Lucius stood at the doorway, calming himself down before he walked into the dungeon.

Dean Thomas hung in midair, his hands tied to a rope hanging from the ceiling. His eyes were wide open, staring directly at him.

"Episkey," Lucius cast, healing the boy's less severe wounds.

The boy gaped at him for a moment before muttering a soft "Thank you."

Lucius slid into the chair directly in front of the young man, looked out of the window, and heaved a sigh. Silence hung in the air, almost like some kind of noose, waiting to loop itself around a victim and suffocate them.

"Why do you even bother?" Thomas suddenly spoke up, following Lucius's lead and looking out the window.

"What do you mean?" Lucius questioned defensively.

"They're treating you like some kind of vermin and you're—"

"That," Lucius cut in, "is not your concern."

"I was just saying," Thomas muttered. "After all, Malfoy was my classmate, albeit a rather ... well ...."

"You had better learn to hold your tongue, Thomas," Lucius hissed, standing up from his chair and taking a step towards the young man. "You are no longer in the Headquarters of the Order. It will do you well to remember that everyone here is capable and comfortably willing to do this." With a wave of his wand, he placed the young man under the Cruciatus.

A bloodcurdling scream rang throughout the cellar while the young man thrashed about in midair with nothing to lean against or support himself against.

"Well, excuse me for attempting to throw the truth in your face," Thomas mouthed off when he was finally released from the curse.

Lucius lowered his wand and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he opened them again and took a few steps towards Dean.

"If," he said in a low voice, "I let you go, will you save Draco?"

Thomas stared at him, wide-eyed, before he frowned. "What's the catch?"

"I will lower the wards to the mansion while the Dark Lord is away and notify the Order to save you," Lucius told him.

"Why are you helping me?" Thomas asked, a guarded look on his face.

"I can't let Draco stay here any longer," Lucius told him, closing his eyes again. "The Dark Lord .... No, I can't allow my son to be in the way of danger any longer."

"Why should I believe you?" Thomas asked uneasily.

Lucius opened his eyes and gazed at him for a short span of time. "You don't have to." He paused. "I'm just taking my chance. In your current condition, you don't have anything to lose, do you?"

________________________________________

"Thomas!" a female Order member embraced the young man. A male Order member ruffled his hair.

A wand was promptly pricked into the side of Lucius's neck.

"We thank you for helping us save Thomas, Mr. Malfoy, but excuse us when we say that we don't believe that you've done this without an ulterior motive," the male said.

"Churchill ...."

"Stay out of this, Thomas," Churchill warned, keeping his eyes on the blond.

"Of course," Lucius replied silkily, "this is precisely the way to treat someone who had assisted you in something that would've been virtually impossible to achieve."

A frown found its place on the female's face.

"He's right, Churchill."

"Audley, don't tell me you trust this scumbag."

"We ought to give him a chance, Huntington," Audley said. She quickly added, "I'm not saying that we should trust him. I'm just saying that we shouldn't harm him."

"Who said anything about harming him?" Churchill asked before he returned his attention to Lucius. "Look here, mate, we'll let you go under one condition. Where's Hermione Granger?"

"How would I—"

"Don't try to lie to us, Mister. We know that she's not in the mansion, but she's with You-Know-Who. Now you either tell us where she is, or we'll have to force it out of you, debt or not," Churchill threatened.

"If you think that threatening me will get you answers, I'm afraid you're mistaken," Lucius sneered. "I merely wanted a way out for Draco when I agreed to help the boy escape. I obviously cannot do anything if you are unwilling to help my son. However, if you want me to outwardly betray the Dark Lord, you are either delusional or daydreaming."

All of them fell silent, each with their own thoughts.

"I guess we will have to give up on that mission then," Churchill heaved a sigh after a while. He prodded Lucius with his wand again. "I'm sorry to say that we can't help you, Malfoy. You've chosen to be a Death Eater yourself."

A blank expression appeared on the blond's face, making it difficult for the Order members to deduce what exactly was going through his mind.

Seconds later, after the Order members disappeared around the corner, Lucius made his way to the study.

"Lucius, where were you? One of the prisoners was rescued," Crabbe said, running up to him. "Macnair, Mulciber, and the Lestranges are searching the grounds for the Order members."

"Have you seen Draco?" he asked.

"I think the Dark Lord just ordered for Draco to meet with him at the secret house—"

"Why?" Lucius asked, unable to hide his alarm.

"I'm not sure, but—" Crabbe stopped in his words.

"But what?"

"From what Rodolphus said, it seems as if the Dark Lord's furious with Draco—"

Without waiting for Crabbe to finish his words, Lucius swirled around him and made his way towards the study, his usual calm demeanor completely broken down.

A loud "thud" behind him caused him to turn around. It seemed like that Order members had not aborted their mission to save the little Mudblood after all.

"I think we can make a deal now," Churchill grinned, lowering his wand. "You help us find Hermione Granger and we'll help you and your son."

________________________________________

The Dark Lord was frighteningly accurate in predicting the thinking processes of their enemies. To Lucius, it was a warning. He would have to plan everything out ahead of time to avoid letting his Master suspect him.

Therefore, waiting for the mark on his left forearm to burn was a relatively easy process, since he was busy thinking out his steps. When the moment came, he hurried out of the mansion with the rest of the selected Death Eaters towards the point where they could Apparate. He slowed his steps when he passed the living room, catching sight of the woman sitting on the couch. She stared at the fireplace, although there was a hollow look in her eyes. Her mind was apparently somewhere else, rather than on the merrily burning logs.

"Bellatrix," he walked up to her. "I find it hard to believe that the Dark Lord has not summoned you."

She ignored him, keeping her eyes in front of her and twirling a lock of hair with the forefinger of her right hand.

He sneered. "Are you hoping the Order will actually save Granger? It's not going to happen, my dearest sister-in-law; the Dark Lord would never allow it."

Finally, she shifted in her seat, yet she didn't answer him.

He narrowed his eyes and circled around her. "If that's your plan, you must realize how foolish it is. The Dark Lord would punish us all most severely for arriving late. If, by any chance, the Mudblood does get saved by the Order, we are going to suffer much more than Thomas."

Bellatrix's coal black eyes flickered up to him, her eyes filled with jealous rage, yet there was an unexpected flicker of reason in them.

"We have to find another chance, if we want to get rid of Granger. This, however, is not our chance," he lowered his voice to a whisper.

She closed her eyes, biting the insides of her cheeks. Lucius could tell that she was not willing to go, but understood that she needed to do so. There was no other way.

For she did not dare to go against the orders of the Dark Lord.

________________________________________

"Malfoy!" Avery's voice sounded amongst the eight of them.

An air of confusion momentarily shrouded them. The wards to the secret house should've been momentarily shifted when they reached the edge of the forest surrounding the mansion, the point where they could Apparate. By shifting them early, which was what Lucius had done, there would be the possibility of the Order members slipping through the wards.

"If the Order members escape, it's not my fault," Avery warned.

"I doubt that they are going to sense the change in the wards," Lucius replied silkily. "And shifting the wards now will save us more time and keep the Dark Lord from waiting."

Avery shot him a glance, but didn't refute what he said since it made sense. Shifting the wards took a good amount of time. If they shifted them when they reached the point of Apparition, a lapse of time would undoubtedly pass. However, there just seemed to be something wrong with Lucius's actions, though Avery could not think of what.

With eight cracks, the Death Eaters arrived at the secret house, just in time to see three of the Order members Apparating out of the house.

Avery gave him another look, but Lucius pretended to keep his attention on the remaining enemies. Behind the mask, thin lips curved into a victorious smirk.

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and swirled the armchair that the Mudblood was sitting in around. Fury flooded the room as the Dark Lord glared at the petite, yet daring witch sitting directly in front of him. The dark magic that was now swirling around the room was much, much more powerful than what Lucius was exposed to days ago, to the point that it nearly astounded him.

Despite his anger, the Dark Lord spoke ever so calmly, "Lucius."

Lucius took a step forward.

"Take them to the dungeons."

Naturally, the Dark Lord meant the dungeons back at his mansion.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius replied, bowing his head before turning towards their prisoners.

A sneer touched his lips again when his eyes met with the Order members he had spoken to before. After placing each and every one of them under the Full Body Bind, the Death Eaters Apparated with them back to the mansion. Avery turned on his heels and faced Lucius after their captives were safely locked away in the dungeons.

"I knew this was going to happen," he immediately blurted out, pulling his mask off and glaring at Lucius. "I knew some of the Order members would escape. If the Dark Lord asks us, I'm going to tell him exactly what happened."

"Be my guest, Avery," Lucius said, sitting down in the nearest chair and crossing his legs leisurely. "What I did was only in the Dark Lord's best interest."

"If the Dark Lord does ask us," Macnair chuckled. "Seems like the little Gryffindor Mudblood had a hand in helping the blood traitors and other Mudbloods escape."

"If the Dark Lord does ask us," Lucius echoed, a smirk finding its place onto his face. "I suppose I should return to the Malfoy Manor. Narcissa is probably quite worried."

He swirled out of the chair and headed outside. The moonlight was shining coldly, flickering off the fountain that sat in front of the front door. Lucius inhaled, thoroughly pleased with what had happened tonight, and moved forward towards the point of Apparition.

True, he was taking risks, but it was better than letting the Mudblood's influence over the Dark Lord grow. With a pop, he Apparated home, and as he had predicted, his wife immediately questioned him about what had happened.

"Narcissa, I won't do anything that would endanger our family again," Lucius vowed, gently cupping her cheek.

She closed her eyes, worry etched on her face. "I'm scared, Lucius. If I lose you or Draco ..."

He placed his finger on her lips, stopping her mid sentence, and she opened her eyes, staring into his stormy grey eyes. "Which will never happen."

The move he made tonight was only to let the Dark Lord suspect the Granger's thoughts and loyalty. He knew his master would not immediately kill the Mudblood, but it laid the foundations for his future moves.

He was, of course, very much annoyed with the Mudblood, but he was not going to risk his reputation or family for her. No, getting rid of her would require a well thought out plan, not the reckless havoc that Bellatrix was so talented in bringing to pass. After all, to bypass someone as intelligent as the Dark Lord would require some thinking and cunningness.

And he was certainly no Slytherin if he did not have cunningness.
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Prisms of Darkness