Stronger Than Silver

Knowledge Is Raw Opium in the Wrong Hands

Trigger Warnings: Bulimia, Cursing 

(Author's Note: The Dark Lord finds out about Lucius' bulimia, as do Severus and Narcissa. Severus confronts him about it. From firsthand experience, I know eating disorders make it difficult for one to control their emotions, so often they end up lashing out at the people around them, especially when they show concern towards their problems.)

After dismissing all the Death Eaters except Lucius from the meeting, the Dark Lord stalked behind the blonde man, who still looked lost in a daze. 

"Lucius..." the snake-like voice hissed in his right ear. 

The man awoke from his thoughts as if someone had snapped their fingers. 

"Y-Yes, my lord?" he asked a second time that dreaded evening. His heart was pounding more vigorously in his chest now that it was just him and Voldemort in the room. Merlin knew what atrocities and curses the snake-like organism could inflict upon him. The thought of receiving another Cruciatus Curse from that vile wand of his made his stomach jump. 

The stark white, cadaverous fingers traced the curve of his jaw, nails digging into the skin threateningly. Lucius jolted backward because of it but had no choice other than to make eye contact with the abomination he called "his lord." Lord Voldemort had always been quite a handsy creature, touching what was not his and using his bony limbs to coerce and manipulate.

To his sheer horror, Lucius could feel the glamour spells wear off one by one. He could sense his cheeks ballooning to their original sizes and his clothes becoming baggier, his clavicle and ribs jutting out ever so slightly. 

Lucius could not do anything.

He could not breathe. He could not. The raw insides of his throat were closing against their own will. His lungs were losing oxygen. 

His heart was battering so hard now that he could not move or speak. He could not move a single limb. He could not open his mouth. He was frozen.

Strangely enough, the Dark Lord had not cast a curse on him for it all to happen. 

The Lord's unforgiving red eyes feigned a pity so ingenuine and patronizing it could have passed for Bellatrix's face before eradicating a mudblood. 

"Eating issues, dear Lucius...?" 

Lucius could not even blink at this point. 

No. No, it cannot be. The Dark Lord did not. He did not. 

This secret that I'd kept so well for the past thirty-five years. This secret that I'd sworn to take to my grave. It's all gone now. Everyone will know. 

The next thing he knew, the intricately carved edge of the wooden table came closer and closer to his face, and he was back in his bedroom with Severus standing next to him. 

It took him about eight seconds to register what had transpired before him. His face turned even chalkier upon seeing the potions master, whose face bore his usual solemn expression when he was not glaring or sneering at pesky children. 

Who used to be a helpless young child at the mercy of a broken family, school bullies, and severe mental issues grew up to be a successful, talented, and powerful wizard of great wisdom and strength; Lucius admired the dark-haired man for it. Sometimes he wished he could undergo that same character growth to become a newer, better person instead of the same filth whose only ambition in life was to live up to his family's standards. Through ridiculous tactics, too. 

Lucius opened his mouth to speak.

"Calm down, Lucius," Severus stated slowly, the melodic drawl in his voice apparent.