Beauty in The Dirt -The Magic Behind Doors-

The Unknown

(Writers block is a bitch. And indecisiveness is an even bigger bitch. But, I'm back and I'm finishing this. Following chapter will be up in a day or so. I do realize that some of you may be disappointed or even loath me, but I'm following my heart in the part of JK's world that is mine. More importantly I am finishing this. Some must loath in order for others to love it and I do hope you all stick with me. It's been a long time coming, but I finally found myself. The part of me that I lost. I am grateful for this and thankful for all of you reading my hard work! P.S. Shit is getting REAL. So for more dramatics and WTF's, please continue.)

All faces; defenders and accusers, were fixated on the Dark Lord as he pulled out of Rabastan's mind. Snake like eyes; crimson and glowing with palpable malice, opened above a hiss of Voldemort's tisking tongue.

Lucius, unperturbed, puffed out his chest in an air of  righteous indignation. He held no fear. Even when fear should have been held, hold it he did not. After all, what did he have to fear but that of retribution. Death? The blonde would welcome it and hug it out in the end. No. He did not fear the inevitable dieing word's that would flee from the Master's mouth should he seek revenge for the avalanche of lies suffocating his soul. He had nothing to lose, yet everything to gain.

Vengeance. The taste of it lingered on Lucius' tongue like the taste of sweet ambrosia. He savoured the flavor. It tickled his taste buds and made home in the crevices if his cheeks. Voldemort was not the only one of them all that clung to damnation as a life support. Even in that moment the delicate juices of retaliation was pooling in the Death Eaters mouth. As the saying goes: Vengeance is sweet.

It was that sweetness that aided him in holding his ground. In his own home; ruins of what use to be. Just like everything else in his life. Surrounded by his allies; all ready to murder him should the Dark Lord give them the order. His miserable frothy traitor of a wife; ruining the name Malfoy he'd given her. He'd come accustomed to such degradation. Covering up the slants and deceptions of Cassiopeia- the woman he'd given everything and still kept giving- and Severus- a comrade that had stolen the everything he'd given. Oh yes. It was unjust how much ignobility and offense that had shamed him. Yet, it gave him reason. It gave him justification for whatever happened next.

The glossy mist faded from Voldemort's ruby slits as his conscious mind retreated from the depths of Rabastan's memories. Scanning the inner circle of the present Death Eaters, he regarded each one with a cold stinging stare as he spoke.

"My witnesses, I must confess myself.... Disappointed. Disappointed in the lack of respect surrounding me." 

Voldemort turned on his pale heel to look in Lucius' and Rabastan's direction. "Do you think me, your Master, for a fool?"

Rabastan swayed, uneasy and befuddled, but it was Lucius that questioned.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort mocked him in a squeaky tone.
"My Lord."

You could visibly see the Starlight Blondes jawline tighten, his teeth grinding before he retorted.
"I can assure you My Lord,  that..."

Rabastan cut him off mid sentence with a loud clatter as he slumped to the ground in a heap. It was apparent he was either drunk, drugged, or cursed.

A Spindle-shanked hand fisted at The Dark Lord's side, his other reaching inside his weathered cloak to retrieve  his wand. Long, raw boned fingers wrapped around the hilt tightly, his gangly arm raising slightly as he cracked his neck and a discernible macabre of a smile.
"So which one of you defies me? Hmm?"

The question was simple in its asking. The answer, anything but.

An unpleasant feeling of unease crept up Lucius spine and lodged in his throat. Why he had ever thought Voldemort could be so easily tricked, he did not know. There was nothing for it now.