Chapter 74: Delicate Circumstances
The yellow curtains surrounding Lucas's four-poster bed were drawn tightly shut, and a small light orb illuminated the interior beneath the canopy. Outside, the first pale rays of dawn had yet to breach the leaded glass windows of the Hufflepuff dormitory, leaving the room shrouded in the tranquil darkness of the early morning hours.
Seated cross-legged atop the rumpled bedcovers, his eyes were closed in an expression of serene concentration as he focused his mind inward. In his left hand, he cradled a crystal ball – his Divination Orb, an artifact of his own creation. With his right hand, he extended his index finger, a bead of crimson welling at the tip.
Time to replenish the blood, he thought, taking a slow, measured breath. With a subtle tilt of his hand, he allowed the droplet to fall, watching through half-lidded eyes as it was absorbed into the orb's glassy surface. The blood seeped in, replenishing the spell-infused reserves that powered the orb's divination abilities.
After a few moments, he pulled his finger away, the small cut sealing itself with a subtle flex of his Will. A faint nod of satisfaction creased his features as he brought the orb closer, cradling it in both hands as he prepared to test its functionality.
In his Vast Sea Visualization, he formed the familiar living room of his Cambridge home inside of the rocks beneath the ocean. The orb's surface shone in response to his Will, and an image began to take shape – Dudley Dursley, his young cousin, sat on the sofa, shovelling cereal into his mouth as he watched television with rapt attention.
Lucas observed the scene for a moment, taking in the mundane details before allowing his focus to shift. The image within the orb faded to inky blackness, and a slight frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. Of course, there was no light within his newly-constructed undersea base.
Undeterred, he redirected his thoughts, picturing the vast span of the North Atlantic stretching above the Hecate Seamount. The orb's surface flashed, and suddenly, he was gazing upon the endless blue of the open ocean with waves moving beneath a cloudless sky.
A small sigh escaped his lips as he set the orb aside, leaning back against the headboard. His scrying abilities had certainly improved over time, allowing him to peer further and further afield, but he couldn't help but shake his head in frustration.
No matter how he tried to focus his mind, to shape his visualizations, he couldn't seem to breach the barrier separating the present from the past or future. He was limited to observing the here and now, unable to glimpse what had been or what might yet come to pass.
For a fleeting moment, the thought of kidnapping Professor Trelawney and putting her inside one of his new cells surfaced in his mind. But he let out a sardonic chuckle and shook his head.
Hah, let's not be so impatient here. Even if I used Legilimency and experimented on her mind in various ways, the probability that this will work is immensely low. Surely ancient wizards would've attempted this long before me, so it's a risk with low rewards.
If I can't find any answers even in the Hogwarts Library or any of the major Magical Libraries used by adult wizards and witches, then I can try to go to such extremes. I don't need to be too impatient.
His gaze drifted to the small, coiled form of Nyx, the sleeping grass snake curled up beside him on the bed. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reached out, gently running a finger along the serpent's cool scales.
He had plans for his loyal companion, intentions that would require seeking out Professor Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff House. Snakes were not among the approved pets for Hogwarts students, but as a Parselmouth, he felt he had a strong case for making an exception.
Nyx was small, harmless, and utterly obedient to his commands – surely Sprout would see reason, especially given his unique ability to communicate with and control the serpent. And if she didn't, well... he would simply bring Nyx along invisibly, as he had done before.
But it would be preferable to have the situation officially sanctioned, to avoid any unnecessary complications or conflicts. Nyx deserved to be able to move freely, without the need for constant concealment.
oo0ooOoo0oo
Lucas approached the heavy wooden door of Professor Sprout's office, taking a moment to straighten his robes and smooth out any wrinkles before giving it a firm knock.
"Come in," Sprout's muffled voice called from inside.
Pushing open the door, Lucas stepped into the cozy confines of the professor's office. Shelves lined the walls, filled with all sorts of potted plants and gardening tools, while the air carried an earthy scent that reminded him of fresh soil after a spring rain.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," Sprout greeted, setting aside the trowel she'd been using on a small, delicate herb. "What can I do for you this morning?"
"Good morning, Professor," Lucas replied with a respectful nod. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you, if you have a moment."
"Of course, have a seat," Sprout said, gesturing to the chair across from her desk as she brushed some dirt from her robes.
As Lucas settled in, he gently extracted the small grass snake Nyx from his pocket, allowing her to coil around his wrist. Sprout's eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of the serpent.
"Mr. Potter, you know snakes are not permitted as student pets," she said sternly. "What is the meaning of this?"
Lucas maintained his calm demeanour. "I understand your concern, Professor, but as a Parselmouth, I believe my situation is unique."
Sprout raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Go on."
"As you know, I have the ability to communicate with and command snakes," Lucas explained patiently. "Nyx here has been my loyal companion for a number of years, and she is completely harmless."
He slowly extended his arm, allowing Sprout to get a closer look at the slender green snake. "See for yourself, she's just a small grass snake, non-venomous."
Sprout eyed Nyx warily but didn't recoil. "Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, snakes can still pose a risk, even without venom."
Lucas nodded. "Which is why I would like to demonstrate the level of control I have over Nyx. With your permission?"
The professor hesitated for a moment before giving a curt nod. "Very well, but I expect you to maintain complete control at all times."
"Of course, Professor." Lucas turned his attention to Nyx, locking eyes with the serpent. He then began to hiss in a series of soft sibilant sounds - Parseltongue.
In response, Nyx slithered down from Lucas's arm and onto Sprout's desk, coiling up obediently. At Lucas's continued commands, the snake performed a few simple movements - weaving side to side, rearing up on her tail.
Sprout watched carefully. "Remarkable control," she admitted grudgingly. "But I'm still not convinced this is appropriate within the school."
"I understand your hesitation," Lucas said. "But I give you my word that Nyx will remain fully under my command at all times. She poses no threat."
He paused, letting his argument sink in. "In fact, allowing me to keep her could be an educational opportunity - how often do students get to interact with a real Parselmouth?"
Sprout considered this for a long moment, studying Lucas carefully. Finally, she sighed. "You make a fair point, Mr. Potter. However, this is an unusual request that goes beyond my authority to approve alone."
Lucas inclined his head respectfully. "I suspected as much, but I appreciate you hearing me out on this matter. Please let me know what you decide after consulting the other professors."
A faint smile played across Sprout's lips. "Your level-headed approach is commendable, Mr. Potter. You'll have my response soon enough."
With a final nod, Lucas rose from his chair, Nyx coiling obediently around his wrist once more as he turned to depart, leaving Sprout to mull over his unusual request.
oo0ooOoo0oo
The polished marble floors of the Ministry's grand halls gleamed under the warm glow of the ornate chandeliers overhead as their light reflected off the paintings of past Ministers that adorned the walls. Lucius Malfoy walked purposefully through the opulent corridors with his dragonhide boots leaving barely a sound in his wake.
His robes, tailored from the finest acromantula silk, billowed elegantly with each step, the rich emerald fabric accentuated by subtle embroidery in gleaming silver thread. The serpentine head of his cane, carved from obsidian, glinted in the flickering torchlight as he approached the ornate double doors that led to the Minister's office.
As if sensing his presence, the doors swung open soundlessly, granting Lucius entry into Cornelius Fudge's inner sanctum. The Minister himself sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, the surface littered with parchments and quills. Despite the disarray, Fudge maintained an air of composure, offering Lucius a welcoming smile as he entered.
"Ah, Lucius! What a pleasant surprise," Fudge greeted, gesturing towards the plush armchair across from his desk. "Please, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink? A fine Ogden's, perhaps?"
Lucius inclined his head in a shallow bow. "You're too kind, Minister, but I'm afraid I must decline. This is merely a brief visit."
He settled into the proffered chair, and Lucius allowed his gaze to sweep over the Minister's office, taking in the rich furnishings and the various accolades and awards that adorned the walls.
"I trust all is well, Lucius?" Fudge inquired politely, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. "You don't often grace my office with your presence these days."
A faint smile played across Lucius's lips. "Indeed, Minister, all is well. I merely wished to inquire about a matter of some...delicacy."
Fudge's brow furrowed slightly, but he maintained his easy-going expression. "Of course, of course. What seems to be the trouble?"
Lucius leaned forward, voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "It has not escaped my notice that the Ministry has yet to make an official announcement regarding the...destruction of the Dark Lord's spirit."
A hint of unease passed over Fudge's features, but he quickly schooled his expression into one of nonchalance. "Ah, yes...that matter. Rest assured, Lucius, it is well in hand."
Arching a perfectly sculpted brow, Lucius allowed a hint of scepticism to colour his tone. "Is it, now? Forgive me, Minister, but the lack of transparency on this issue has been...concerning, to say the least."
Fudge waved a dismissive hand, but Lucius did not miss the slight sheen of sweat that had begun to bead on the Minister's brow. "Merely a temporary delay, I assure you. We had initially planned to release the news last week, but certain...unforeseen circumstances arose, necessitating a brief postponement."
Inwardly, Lucius seethed, his fingers tightening around the serpent-head of his cane until his knuckles turned white. He had stalled the other Death Eaters from mounting a foolhardy rescue attempt, convincing them to bide their time and allow the Ministry to deal with the Dark Lord's imprisoned spirit. But their patience was wearing thin, and Lucius knew he couldn't delay them much longer.
Forcing a tight smile, Lucius leaned back in his chair, projecting an air of casual indifference. "I see. And how long, precisely, do you anticipate this...resolution will take?"
Fudge's gaze darted towards the bottles lining the cabinet behind Lucius, and he cleared his throat. "Well, you must understand, Lucius, that these matters are often unpredictable. We're dealing with complex circumstances, you see."
Lucius allowed a hint of concern to crease his brow, and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "Surely you don't mean to imply that the situation is...uncontrolled, Minister? The public grows restless, and rumours of the Dark Lord's return have already begun to spread like wildfire across the world. And with the recent tensions with China…"
A bead of sweat trickled down Fudge's temple, and he reached for a crystal tumbler, pouring himself a generous measure of firewhisky. "Of course not, Lucius, of course not," he assured, taking a fortifying sip. "We have the utmost confidence in our ability to resolve this matter swiftly and decisively."
Lucius's gaze sharpened, sensing the Minister's evasiveness. "And yet, you hesitate to provide a concrete timeline. One can't help but wonder if there are complications beyond your control."
Fudge shifted in his seat in discomfort. "Well, you see...it's a delicate situation, involving parties whose expertise far exceeds my own."
The knot in Lucius's stomach tightened as realization dawned. Fudge had no control over the situation whatsoever – he was merely a puppet, dancing to the strings pulled by those with true power.
"Let me hazard a guess, Minister," Lucius said lightly. "You're relying on the counsel of Albus Dumbledore to navigate these...delicate waters, are you not?"
Fudge's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius raised a placating hand.
"Minister, I mean no disrespect," he soothed. "It is only natural that you would seek the wisdom of one so esteemed, in matters of such gravity."
Fudge visibly relaxed, the tension easing from his shoulders as he took another sip of firewhisky. "Yes, well...Dumbledore has proven invaluable in these dark times. His counsel has been very helpful in guiding our efforts."
Lucius nodded, a small, sympathetic smile playing across his lips. "And I have no doubt that, with his guidance, this matter will be resolved in a manner befitting the Ministry's standing."
He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering the subtle blow. "However, I must admit to some...concern, over the potential consequences of further delay."
Fudge frowned, and he leaned back in his chair. "Consequences? What do you mean, Lucius?"
Lucius's smile never wavered, but his eyes took on a steely glint. "Merely that there are elements, within our society, who grow restless in the face of uncertainty. Elements that may seek to take matters into their own hands, should the Ministry fail to provide a timely resolution."
Fudge paled, his grip tightening around his tumbler. "Surely you don't mean...vigilantism? Rebellion?"
"Nothing so dramatic, I assure you," Lucius replied smoothly, waving a dismissive hand. "Merely a concern that, without clear leadership and decisive action, certain...factions may become emboldened, seeking to fill the void left by inaction."
He leaned back with an expression of casual indifference. "But I have every confidence that such a scenario will be averted, given your capable stewardship, Minister."
Fudge nodded absent-mindedly as he processed Lucius's veiled warning. "Yes, of course...you make a fair point, Lucius. Rest assured, I will impress upon Dumbledore the urgency of this matter."
Lucius inclined his head, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I knew I could rely on your wisdom, Minister. The continued stability of our society rests in your capable hands."
He rose from his chair, and put his cane back on the ground.
"I shan't take up any more of your valuable time, Minister," Lucius said respectfully. "Thank you for indulging my concerns."
Fudge waved a hand, his earlier unease seemingly forgotten. "Not at all, Lucius, not at all. Your counsel is always welcome, and your...support, invaluable."
A knowing glint flickered in Lucius's eyes as he turned to depart, the subtle implication of his financial contributions to the Ministry's coffers hanging unspoken in the air. With a final nod, he left the office, leaving Fudge to mull over their conversation.
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