I.21. – Marked for Life

Qui non est mecum, contra me est.*

EVANGELIUM MATTHAEUM 12, 30

Lucius was used to being treated with reverence – except his own father and Narcissa Black, he had hardly ever met anyone not awed by his fortunes and social rank. Curiously enough, even Lord Voldemort seemed to be quite impressed with his latest acquisition for his Order. The young man showed extraordinary talent for the Dark Arts, yes. But a lot of his disciples were pretty skilful in that quarter.

Truth was that Lucius Malfoy was the epitome of what Lord Voldemort had wanted to be when he was still called Tom Riddle. The boy’s dynasty might not go back to great Salazar Slytherin himself, but it was as pure and noble and untainted as it could possibly be. For two thousand years, the respective heirs had only ever married witches from families of equal standing; Lucius Malfoy was related to every wizard family of consequence all through Europe, a policy that had also spared him the deplorable fate of other English purebloods, who were degenerated by marrying their own cousins over and over again. Tom Riddle had seen his own uncle Morfin, who was only a tad better than the wretched man that had been Tom’s father. A wizard? Sure. But otherwise… Tom Riddle had styled himself a name that should command respect. Lucius Malfoy had been born to such a name.

Since changing his name into ‘Lord Voldemort’, a plan had been forming in his mind. Vague at first, more and more clear in time, and rich in detail. He would take the place that was rightfully his. He would achieve a power more absolute than the world had seen before. He would defy and eventually defeat death itself. And a wizard like Lucius Malfoy would help him with all three tasks at hand.

He personally educated him to advance in the Dark Arts, and only three months into their dealings, Lucius Malfoy officially joined the Dark Order. Lord Voldemort had given this ceremony a good deal of thought. To get where he wanted to get, he needed unconditional loyalty and service. His ‘Death Eaters’, as he would call them, ought to feel more obliged to the Order than to their own families. He must be able to rely on them under all circumstances, but at the same the time, they mustn’t figure him out.

“Aut cavere aut carere, aut omnia aut nihil. Qui non est mecum, contra me est. Nemo potest duobus dominis servire,” he called solemnly, and for the less gifted, he also cried the translation straightaway, “It’s faith or abstention, all or nothing. Who is not for me is against me. No one can serve two lords.”

His disciples cried in unison, “Volo – I want!”

“Tempus fugit – tempus nos avidum devorat et chaos. Dii essemus, ni moreremur. Vade mecum. Serva me, servabo te. Aeterna in desiderio. – Times flies, time and chaos consume us. We would be gods if we weren’t to die. Go with me. Help me and I will help you. Desire the eternal.”

“Volo – I want!”

“Parva necat morsu spatiosum vipera taurum, estote ergo prudentes sicut serpentes. Si quid est, quo teneris, aut expedi aut incide. Venit dies magnus irae, aut fortiter mori aut liberos vivere. Ad arma! – The smallest viper’s bite can kill a bull. Hence be sly as the snakes. If there is something withholding you, liberate yourself or destroy it. The great day of wrath has come; either die valiantly or live free. To arms!”

“Aut vincere aut mori – cedo nulli! – Either victory, or death – I will not yield.”

He had taken out a golden dagger and slashed it through his palm, letting the blood drip into a golden goblet. Then he handed the goblet to each of the kneeling youngsters, they swallowed his blood and then he announced, “Immota fides! Unwavering fidelity!”

“Immota fides in perpetuum! Unwavering fidelity forever!”

“Meus es tu – you are mine,” he said, tipping his wand on their outstretched left arms. A kind of branding appeared on the skin, a skull with a protruding snake, slithering out of its mouth. This part was deliberately painful; Lord Voldemort did believe in the saying that a hard lesson was learnt for good.

“Semper et ubique! Always and anywhere!”

They got up in the same order in which they had drunk. The first one was Bellatrix Lestrange. She equalled Malfoy in talent and purity, the problem with her was rather her uncontrollable temper. She was followed by the boy and her husband’s younger brother. Then came Amycus Carrow and his sister Alecto, Jebediah Jugson and the last one was Elias Yaxley. They looked elated – comparably young all of them, they were easily impressed by promises of adventure and combat, by drinking blood and some Latin phrases. He had others followers, decidedly older, who hadn’t gone through any similar ceremony, and who’d possibly not have been blinded by the whole ballyhoo.

Lucius stared at his wrist, trying not to let it show how much it hurt. The snake flicked its tongue as if mocking him, but he thought it was the coolest thing he had ever seen. He would fight. He would excel himself, prove to the master his worthiness. And to his own father, he’d show it as well. No, not the mark, of course. It was forbidden to speak about the order or its proceedings. But he would prove to his father that he wasn’t the idle child that Abraxas liked to see in him. There was more to life than administering a fortune. Abraxas only sat at home or in his office, complaining about the state of the world. Lucius was going to do something about it.

But for tonight, they’d just celebrate and have some fun. After drinking a vat of elf-made wine, they set out on the streets to show off, basically. Jugson proved his mastery of the Imperius Curse by making scores of Muggles jump onto the street, right in front of the next car. He let them jump down bridges or attack accidental bystanders. Then it was Bellatrix’ turn. She had a knack for the Cruciatus Curse, and Lucius thought to himself that this streak was running in the family. Those sisters just loved to torture other people, didn’t they? Only Narcissa didn’t need an Unforgivable for reaching the same end.

Their little party suddenly came to an end when Rabastan, quite out of the blue, pointed his wand at the driver of a car that had stopped before a jammed crossing. “Avada Kedavra,” he yelled, and the Muggle collapsed at once, with his car shooting forth into the traffic, causing a mass collision. They were tittering with that sight still, when half a dozen Aurors emerged out of thin air, pointing their wands at Rabastan. Naturally, all of their merry little bunch Disapparated at once, still the arrival of the Aurors had sobered them up a bit, and they delighted in simply continuing to get wasted in Rabastan’s apartment.

“Pity the Aurors are out on the streets tonight,” Bellatrix Lestrange said with a dreamy expression and a large serving of whiskey in her hand. “I wish we’d paid a visit to my brother-in-law earlier!”

Alecto Carrow was perplexed. “I thought this is his place?”

Bellatrix cackled. “I don’t mean Rabastan, you daft cow! I’m talking of that Mudblood Tonks! Oh, how I should like to meet him one night in some dark alley!” Her black eyes shone with malice. “As a widow, my stupid sister could return home honourably –”

“As if,” Rabastan interjected calmly.

“Yeah, well. I said she’s stupid. She’d rather starve in the streets with her bastard child, I suppose.”

“Would your parents even allow her coming back to them?” Lucius asked.

“Allow her? Oh, kid, you don’t know my parents, do you?”

“Well, we weren’t formally introduced, but I did meet your mother once. Swiftly.”

Elias Yaxley got a giggling fit. “Very swiftly!”

Bellatrix shot them both some amazed glances, forcing Lucius to explain a little more. “We met on the eve of my graduation from Hogwarts, you see –”

“Oh!” She made a wry face. “The night of evil, as I like to call it. Well, you must excuse her if she made a bad impression on you. She really wasn’t herself that night.”

Despite himself – because he hated the idea to expose himself in Yaxley’s company – Lucius couldn’t but ask, “What d’you mean?”

“You don’t know? I’d believed it was the talk of the town that week. My idiotic sister seized the opportunity to first inform our parents of her engagement to that goddamned boy, and after they’d dragged her home to talk some sense into her stubborn head, she told them she was pregnant. Nearly killed my mother, poor papist soul she is.” Seeing Lucius’ inquisitive expression, she added, “She got a heart attack, you see. Why’re you looking at me like that? I thought you must know! Didn’t you go to that petty party with my other sister?”

Forcing himself to be calm, he replied, “I did, but she didn’t stay long enough for me to understand the family dynamics that evening.”

Yaxley was smirking gleefully; Bellatrix laughed, but very drily. “You can take some credit for those family dynamics, you know, at least regarding my father. He was almost as offended by you as he was by that Tonks guy.”

“I know. I had the pleasure to encounter him, too, next morning,” Lucius murmured, mortified.

“Did he try cursing you?” Bellatrix asked in genuine curiosity.

“I believe he found it sufficient to threaten me with castration, death, or both if I pleased to ever talk to your sister – Narcissa, I mean – again.”

She sniggered cheerfully. “That’s our old Papa, oh dear. Capital offense. Cissy’s our father’s darling, you must know, his little flower. He can’t abide the idea that some guy should pluck her, least a notorious philanderer such as yourself.”

A stony smile was edged into Lucius’ features, it was the best he could muster. Too humiliating was the recollection of the rampaging father, too painful the memory of the daughter’s fierce remonstrance, and the thought of her altogether much too bittersweet to be born with in equanimity.

Bellatrix didn’t notice his uneasiness, or she didn’t care; at any rate, she continued merrily, “Gosh, she must really hate you! Letting you speak to our Papa on that day! I wonder she ever went out with you to begin with... Oh, I see. She surely believed she could take some flak and misdirect some of our parents’ wrath from Andy. She’s very fond of her, despite everything.”

Yaxley was cringing with laughter and Lucius could take it no more. “Yes, indeed, she loathes me, as she was nice enough to inform me that morning,” he snarled tersely. “Which is a true relief, lest I should have felt obliged to see her again!”

Bellatrix shot him an odd sideways glance. “How wise of you... Seriously, Lucius. You’re a good man. I’m glad to hear you’ve not set your mind on our little Cissy, for she’d never have you, and your energy’s better directed at some useful purpose.”

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* Qui non… Who is not for me is against me.

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