Draco Takes a Mark

Chapter 46

As Draco Malfoy knelt at his wedding altar to inscribe a matrimonial charm on Hermione Granger's arm, hundreds of miles away, the Dark Lord closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He held it as Lucius Malfoy pressed his forefinger against the black scar tissue of the mark on his cold, gray arm. He let it out slowly, rapturously at the touch of Lucius's warm hand.

"Ah, Lucius," he said, eyes still closed, head tipped back. "You have been away from us for too long."

Lucius withdrew his hand, bowing as the Dark Lord opened his eyes with a low growl of satisfaction. "Your son as well. I anticipate his arrival with great eagerness."

"As do I," Lucius said. "Thank you, my Lord, for bringing him back to us."

The Dark Lord attempted a smile. "Yes, it will be a joyful reunion for the Malfoy family, won't it? All three of you, living here in love, together again." He waved at Snape, the favoured deputy at his side. "While I'm thinking of it, Severus..."

Snape sank to one knee on the floor. "Yes, my Lord?"

"I may get caught up in my many plans for the coming day -- the Mudblood, the cabinet, so much to do. You must not let me forget to share that memory of yours with Lucius. You know the one. It was you who brought it to me, from his wife's bedchamber."

A snicker ran through the room, sincere but vicious laughter at the expense of Lucius Malfoy, a high man brought low. He hung his head but Narcissa only held hers higher.

The laughter died abruptly as the Dark Lord stood from his chair to pace. "Young Draco delays his coming," he said.

Snape stood upright. "If he is in the castle, my Lord, he will not be able to reach you until he escapes the grounds. It may take some minutes."

The Dark Lord didn't seem to hear, growing more agitated with every pass of his pacing. "It is too long. Too long." He stopped, raising a finger. "Did you do this, Lucius? Did you sabotage the call as you made it? Is this some ploy to keep your son from his destiny?"

There was only one laugh this time, Narcissa Malfoy's, a loud single note of ridicule at the mention of her husband doing anything so brave and noble as plotting against the Dark Lord to save their son.

The Dark Lord rounded on her, his finger still pointing. "You have something to add, Madam Malfoy?" He was moving toward her, his finger scratching at the air in front of him as he came.

He stopped.

In the centre of the room, he stopped suddenly, struck. Cringing where he stood, he reeled, as if from the impact of a silent curse. He stumbled sideways, pulling his already wounded hand into his chest, gnashing his teeth.

Wormtail took half of a step forward, as if to rush to steady him, but then retreated behind his chair.

A shriek of anger and pain went out from the wounded Dark Lord, ending in a panting, murderous demand. "Who has done this?" he rasped.

His eyes swept over his horde of followers, arriving back where they started, at Narcissa Malfoy. Black stains were seeping through the white gauze dressing twisted around his hand as he advanced toward her again, hissing, "You."

Bellatrix was bleating at his side. "My Lord, my Lord!" she was saying. "Cissie wouldn't dare. No one who knows your power would dare. But the Muggle man -- he's not a Muggle. I've seen him steal a wizard's wand and use it against him. And now he's done this to you. I should have known. I should have spilled his entrails in the streets -- "

"Silence!" the Dark Lord shouted over her. He swiveled away from Narcissa, looking to Tim Granger instead. The man still stood where Snape had set him, in front of a huge window made of small, diamond panes of glass.