The Darkness Within: Voldemort/Hadria Potter

Concealed Hope

Morning light filtered through the high windows of the headmaster's office, casting long shadows across the room where Lucius Malfoy sat, examining a small vial of clear liquid on Severus Snape's desk as he picked it up.

"Is it usually clear?" Lucius inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity, holding the potion up to the light.

Snape, reclining in his chair with an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of their conversation, glanced at the vial.

"Actually no. Typically, the finalized potion boasts a vibrant crimson hue, accompanied by a distinct liquorice flavor," he began, his tone clinical.

"However, I've employed a blend of activated charcoal and water of Aethiops in this concoction to render it colorless and remove all but the most subtle flavor and smell. It's concentrated; a mere three drops in his afternoon coffee will suffice."

Lucius nodded, the gravity of the situation settling upon him like a cloak. "And if he is indeed ensnared by a love potion, this will free him?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Indeed. Should the Dark Lord be under such an enchantment, administering this antidote will initiate a discernible shift from his current state...he may seem confused," Severus affirmed, his gaze steady. "Absent any behavioral change, we must entertain less palatable possibilities... though let us hope that bridge remains untraveled."

With a solemn nod, Lucius secreted the potion into his pocket and settled back into his chair, his cane resting across his lap like a silent sentinel.

"The Dark Lord...he rose in the night, compelled to dismantle the piano in the music room...quite aggressively I might add," Lucius disclosed, his voice a low murmur.

Severus's eyebrow arched ever so slightly, the only sign of his surprise. "Not a fan of the classics, I presume?" he quipped, his face a mask of stoicism.

Lucius exhaled deeply, the weight of their predicament pressing down upon him. "He's teetering on the brink, Severus. Unpredictable is an understatement. A house elf found him this morning, collapsed in the lounge, inebriated to the point of unconsciousness. His arms, his hands... they were lacerated, bleeding. It's as if he's waging a war within himself."

Severus Snape's mind churned as he pondered the disturbing details Lucius had laid bare. His eyes, usually inscrutable pools of onyx, betrayed a flicker of concern.

"And Bellatrix has nothing to say on the matter?" Severus inquired, his voice a low drawl that filled the room with an expectant tension.

Lucius Malfoy's response was a scoff, a sound that seemed to scrape against the walls of the office. He averted his gaze, his eyes finding interest in the ancient stones of the room as if seeking solace in their immutable strength.

"Not in the slightest," Lucius began, his voice laced with a bitterness that seemed to sour the very air. "And yet, he treats her like a mere plaything. On the surface, there appears a façade of devotion, but the reality is far more brutal, far more...transactional."

He paused, the words catching in his throat like thorns. "She arrives at meals adorned with bruises, badges of a twisted affection. And yet, she remains silent, her loyalty unwavering, even as she refuses the confidences of her own sister. Narcissa is met with nothing but claims of their predilection for...vigorous play, shall we say. She professes contentment with their...relationship, if such a term can be applied to their interactions."

Lucius's voice trailed off, the final words spoken with a palpable air of revulsion.

"Is Narcissa truly prepared for what the Dark Lord may do once he has been cured of his affliction? If he has indeed been bewitched...she may have very well signed her own death certificate," he mused, his voice a blend of curiosity and foreboding.