7th June 1993. Malfoy Manor. Ritual Chamber.
Ares was elated, although the same could not be said for his new servant.
Lucius was still in shock from what had occurred. He couldn't quite understand how he allowed himself to be tricked so quickly, especially considering his past as a paranoid psychopathic murderer.
Grinning from ear to ear, Ares gave his new servant their orders,
"Lucius, we have a lot to do in only a few months, so I want to meet your wife and son properly tomorrow. You are not to mention your current situation to anyone other than you are no longer a vassal to House Black. Finally, before I go, remember to give Narcissa this necklace. Tell her it was a gift for her and that I'd love it if she would wear it for me tomorrow. Good night."
Having acquired himself a new follower, the first in many years, the Dark Lord felt vigorous. He fished the necklace he had chosen from Vault 326 out of his magically enlarged pocket, dropped it on a nearby table and, patting Lucius on the shoulder, apparated back to his manor for a well-deserved rest.
Lucius Malfoy was annoyed, confused and happy all at the same time.
He was annoyed because he was now a slave, complicating his allegiance to he-who-must-not-be-named. But, on the other hand, he was happy because he was no longer a vassal to the house of Black, and he could serve his new master. But, most of all, he was confused about his mixed feelings.
However, he was a pragmatic psychopath. His current issue would be convincing the harpy he had made the mistake of calling his wife that it wasn't obscene and a breach of every little bit of etiquette she compulsively followed to meet a new guest so soon while wearing a gift from them.
Lucius found his mind drifting to a more positive note; no longer was he a vassal of her father and uncle, leaving her with no foundation for any superiority. In fact, he would enjoy talking to her for the first time in almost 30 years.
Lucius showered and cleaned himself up before making his way towards what had been Narcissa's room since Draco's birth.
Carefully and considerately knocking on her door, he found her reading under her covers in a thin linen dressing gown and silk lingerie.
Sitting down on the bed next to her, he smiled.
"Darling! What a pleasure it is to see you looking so radiant this evening. How was your day? Did you spend more of my money or use your own ill-gotten gains? I'm glad the villagers couldn't catch you with their torches and pitchforks." He remarked, the love and affection dripping from his silver tongue.
Narcissa, to his regret, only had a look of annoyance for a second before her features were schooled back into a deadpan expression.
"My heroic husband has blessed me with his presence; this is a day for celebration. Been outsmarted by any more twelve-year-olds since last time? You do make bullying children look so fetching!" She asked in a faux-sincere tone, not looking up.
"Alas, I have yet to master your ability to upset children merely by existing. So instead, I have undone that wretched little vassal oath your father made swear. Watch your step, my dear, you have such pretty little feet, and I'd hate for them to get hurt." Lucius retorted.
"I suppose I must thank your new friend who visited earlier. What did you say his name was at breakfast? Lord Peverell? What a frightfully ~helpful~ person he is. Will he be gracing our home again soon, or should I hold off packing my bags until after you've held your nuptials?" Narcissa responded sweetly, unrepentantly lacing her voice with sarcasm.
"My dear new friend will be, as you say, gracing us with his presence tomorrow. I have offered to make the introductions for you and Draco. Try not to be yourself, or he may turn to stone before he's made it through the front door. I trust you'll make sure Draco is ready and well-behaved, and you will be dressed immaculately. Perhaps wearing this necklace you have been so kindly gifted will stave off any less than savoury circumstances from which unfortunate and misbehaved witches suffer. After all, he is now a very dear ally, and we wouldn't want to disrespect him or lead him to believe we are anything but nobles of Pureblood." Lucius insinuated with a nasty smirk on his face.
While Lucius had been released from his position as a vassal to Narcissa's family, he still swore an unbreakable vow to treat her well and respect her consent to her father. As his dear wife hated him, their bedroom had been rather cold since Draco's birth, leaving him to seek comfort in the embrace of other women over the years. Hence a not unfounded fear on her part, despite her sarcasm, that he would kick her out and replace her with someone new relatively soon.
Lucius left her to her own thoughts, his words still reverberating around the room, his point emphasised by the graveness of her situation.
Meanwhile, Narcissa was panicking. Lucius had no reason to keep her in his house any longer. She would never sleep willingly with him again after understanding what he had subjected other women to in her place, leaving Draco an only child.
He was likely to kick her out and bring one of his whores in to fill the place of Lady Malfoy.
Draco would be safe as heir to the estate, but she was dispensable now without Lucius under the thumb of her uncle and father's oaths and orders.
Slipping between her covers, she silently prayed that something good would happen tomorrow.
Draco was happy, his father had been released from his servitude and had become a lot nicer to be around, and his mother had retired to bed early.
He couldn't wait to meet Lord Peverell as he was already beginning to see the man as his idol, swooping in to save pureblood lords; young Malfoy couldn't wait to see what he did next.
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8th June 1993. Peverell Manor.
Within the warm depths of his quilt, Ares woke with a yawn and began his meditation.
His mindscape lay before him, with his magical core floating at the centre of his memory palace. An infantile figure reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy hovered nearby in chains, giving the magical contract form. The Dark Lord could kill his new subordinate with a simple thought through a clever reworking of the original bond into one of absolute obedience.
It was a common adage in the Wizarding world to never swear a magical oath to a wizard skilled in soul magic. But unfortunately, even the most straightforward bond provides a platform through which unwanted constraints can be placed upon the contract.
Ares used this bond to subvert Lucius' mentality, gradually enslaving him entirely in mind and body through his soul.
Satisfied with his progress in corrupting his new subordinate, he came out of his trance and called for Dobby and Twonky, a recent hire, to help him get changed and prepare breakfast.
When finished, he was in wizarding robes with the Peverell crest and a tailored casual three-piece suit from a wizarding tailor. He had the necklace he had gotten from his vaults under his shirt, just in case. No one said a Dark Lord couldn't dress in style; anyone still living at least...
Apparating downstairs, he sat down at the dining room table.
All the appropriate cutlery appeared, with a napkin as if by magic.
Quickly followed by this was a full English breakfast.
Half an hour later…
With a content sigh, Ares finished his breakfast feeling complete and ready to face the day.
He had spent a decade planning out several punishments for Narcissa and had decided upon his final choice because it left the most variables for his amusement. Time had done a lot to dull his anger against her, especially when he had other people to direct his passionate hatred towards.
Ares made his way upstairs to his study and opened the secret compartment.
Taking out the books Lineage protections by Salazar Slytherin, he closed the compartment again and strode down to the ritual room in the basement of the manor, the space closest to the ley lines that powered the manor's wards.
While the Cloak of Death protected him against curses and such crimes as line theft, essentially the illegal version of what Sirius had helped him achieve, it wouldn't cover his new bloodline once he propagated.
The ritual he intended would mean no blood, even willingly given, would be able to permanently harm any member of his family.
After that, he would perform another ritual allowing him to track his blood using his ring no matter where it or the person that had it running through their veins went.
The irony was, of course, that these rituals would only remain in effect so long as his descendant's blood was pure enough...
Finally, he would perform the ultimate ritual, meaning no person could remove these protections. He would set requirements for a magical oath of no harm and a more physical key in the form of the lord rings of both the Slytherin and Peverell families.
Despite both families having a distinct and extensive heritage, he planned to gradually merge the two into one clan. Blood was thicker than water, and pure blood was better than mudblood for rituals.
The ritual was simple. Ares stripped and, taking a ceremonial knife off the wall, slit his left arm. Then, taking the blood, the Dark Lord made runes over his heart, jugular, and wrists.
Then he drew a ritual circle on the stone floor with the ingredients he had the house elves collect while he slept that night.
Happy with his circle, he grabbed some gold stands with candles and placed them on each corner of the star he had drawn.
Standing in the middle of the circle, he began the first ritual,
"Let the magic be my witness and power to my blood. Constrain and bind my descendants, granting them protection from malcontent with my blood and the generations of blood to come as your source!"
With a great gust of wind and flashing light, almost ethereal chains appeared across his naked upper body, spreading out from his heart and mapping out his veins.
The ritual was complete, and numbness followed by fatigue came crashing down on Ares. Like muggle vaccines, he would have to spread the more straining patterns over a few weeks.
He was expected by Lucius in an hour and a half at 2 o'clock, best to get ready.
'Well, I suppose it is time to meet Narcissa again and Draco. this should be fun." Ares thought with a smile to himself.
-----------------------------------------
8th June 1993. Malfoy Manor. 2 pm.
Silence dominated the tense atmosphere within the Malfoy household. Narcissa and Lucius were close to giving up all pretences, and Draco remained as ignorant as one might expect.
Precisely as the grandfather clock struck its last chime, the floo lit up, and Ares arrived in a flash of green flames.
His face lit up when he saw the necklace around Narcissa's throat. While not imperative to her inevitable punishment, it would provide a more amusing perspective if he knew what she thought as he played with her.
"My dear Lord and Lady Malfoy, Heir Malfoy, it is a pleasure to be invited to your house again. I have been looking forward to furthering the relationship between our two houses for a long time."
The offering of greetings was customary, even if you were visiting to take ownership of family and home.
Narcissa couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine as she saw his smile. Deep in her heart, she knew her life would change today; depending on how she played this encounter out, it could go very badly for her.
In his classic fashion of being more ponce than human, Draco thought it was great that his father knew such a noble and awe-inspiring pure blood.
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