章 1685: 48
Chapter 48: Malfoys' CurseChapter Text
Heads up for another disturbing healing ritual.
Britain boiled with unrest. Albus Dumbledore, in his eminent Gryffindor honesty, announced that we had killed his Phoenix. He spent a long time pontificating about "dark times," "the need to unite" and "stopping Voldemort from sowing seeds of discord."
Our propaganda department answered with an avalanche of dirt. For instance, Albus was so dark and degenerate that his Phoenix abandoned him.
After celebrating Fawkes's death with Bella, I honestly began considering commissioning Ollivander to make me a wooden penis. The power of love was terrifying to behold. While DMLE honchos screamed that You-Know-Who's reign of terror was about to be smashed, he already was, many times per night.
I examined Bella for the umpteenth time and put together a plan to cure her reproductive problems. Her mental health sat fine with me, though in my opinion it was obsession rather than love: "I love the Dark Lord and hate everything that is stopping me from being with him every minute of the day." Physically, her infertility resulted from a conflict of two marital bonds. Her "one-sided magical marriage" didn't harm her, but adding the ceremony with Rodolphus created a truly volatile mix. We were going to try a simple divorce before turning to Dark rituals.
Bellatrix had already outlined two schemes in advance. A true compulsive personality. Now, why would you jump straight to sacrificing your own magical ability when we had plenty of prisoners? Prisoners didn't fit? We had kin blood to spare. Just kill Andromeda. If that was not enough - Sirius.
The news of the werewolf cure didn't stay under wraps for long, either. To no one's surprise, a couple of werewolf deserters got caught and dissected in neighboring countries. The US was already making offers to buy the recipe. We pretended not to hear them. Britain got flooded with foreign werewolves desperate for a cure. We didn't have enough to go around, and it had to be earned. It wasn't my fault that our government banned Dark magic and potions!
I never did figure out what Albus had done to secure his squib Figg, but we began recruiting muggle specialists by turning them into werewolves. There was no shortage of volunteers to gain superhuman health, endurance and access to the magical world for the low price of one monthly transformation.
For now, it was high time for me to tackle Malfoy's curse. On top of all the other benefits, treating Narcissa might shed some light on Bellatrix's own curse. Having wasted scores of homunculi and embryos, I developed several ritual options. The problem was, I had but one shot to get it right.
I didn't know anyone more knowledgeable than me in Dark magic, with the possible exception of Grindelwald, Dumbledore and Flamel. Anyone of Rosier's level would have laughed at my plan. But if he knew what I did and read the books I had read, he would have circled his finger around his temple, then asked for a spot in the audience for something to reminisce about in his old age. A ruined relationship was the Malfoys was a small price to pay for this spectacle.
"Let's head out," I told my team of two dozen werewolves. We were scheduled to meet Malfoy in one of the secondary bases. I had already lifted his plans from his mind: nothing more devious than extra backup and messages to the Lord about who to blame in case of his death.
I kept mulling over whether I was making the right choice. Standard healing methods stood no chance. Sacrificial magic? Better but still insufficient, unless we give the curse another couple of centuries to wane. Sacrificing Malfoy's homunculi? It would take an outright genocide, and I had neither time nor patience to set up a homunculi Buchenwald. This ritual truly was the safest compromise. Even if I miscalculated, the Malfoys could always sire a replacement for their heir.
Lucius arrived in two hours, dressed in full Death Eater uniform. Dozens of golems and undead trailed behind him with his unconscious wife and son. Living people loved to run their mouths, and Malfoy was not so ruthless as to kill his own guards in cold blood to preserve a secret.
"Good afternoon, Elena." He rushed towards me. "Have you brought the ritual material?"
"Like you can't tell?" I chuckled, pointing behind my back at the werewolves who carried three bound bodies. "Everything as we agreed yesterday. One half-blood male, one half-blood female, and-" I spat at my feet, vanishing it before it touched the floor, "one mudblood. Plus a present from me personally - a vampire. You better appreciate it, friend. No muggle filth here."
'Friend' tenderly embraced his unconscious wife. "You came through," he said with a satisfied smile. "What do you want for the vampire? Why did you bring werewolves and a Dementor?"
"Well now, this is a business conversation," I began. "I have an important project coming up, and on top of money I'll need your vote of confidence in the inner circle."
"Politics," he nodded.
"You know it. The Dementor and werewolves are my insurance. You might have heard that I was working on a special assignment? The werewolves are fully sane."
I waved my hand to signal my team. One of them turned into a wolf and back.
Malfoy theatrically raised his eyebrows. "You have truly succeeded?"
"You bet. So, what is the story with your golems and corpses?"
"Ah, you see.." squirmed 'friend'.
"I see." I smirked at him. "A man can never be too careful."
Two consummate snakes laughed and eyed each other with newfound respect in front of their audience's white and twisted faces. Especially the vampire's. I was not watching the humans - their fear literally permeated the air.
"Everyone wishing to heal, step into the ritual hall. Your man Crabbe is standing watch there. He's already checked the drawings twice. Your lives are in no danger," I said.
"Nevertheless, I would like to see proof of our safety," said Malfoy.
"My secrets are mine to keep. You'll spend the ritual unconscious."
"I must insist," he replied.
It was time. Accelerating to the limit, I shifted the anti-apparition ward structure and gave the signal to attack. The werewolves sprung into action. I pulled the golems away from Malfoy's family to grind the stone into rubble. Jets of fire burned the undead, water and quicksand trapped all in place, conjured blades cut the limbs, an air spear exploded the lone lich's head… Nagini, adorned with plenty of defensive amulets, silently apparated next to Crabbe to snatch him away.
Fighting any further became futile - I got to Malfoy's wife and son. He went on complete defensive, trying to activate a portkey.
"Surrender!" I ordered. "Or your wife and son die."
At our signal, the scuffle stopped. It made a splendid picture: piles of dust, stone statues, scattered bones and limbs, puddles of curdled blood and one lonely pile of finely minced meat. Going down the list, my elemental transfiguration of fire, earth, water and air. On the other hand, draining myself by almost a third was terrible news. Talk about inefficient! How did Albus do it?
"The Dark Lord won't stand for this!" screamed Malfoy.
"Drop your wand, protections and guards! Don't even think about reaching for your Mark! And don't count on Crabbe, he is out!"
Malfoy didn't move a muscle.
"Are you deaf? I said drop your wand!" I grabbed and shook his son to underscore my point.
"How did you do this?" he sputtered. "Who are you?"
"Let's try this again. I am Elena Ivanova, the Dark Lord's apprentice. I am the best after the Dark Lord. You just witness it yourself. I came here to cure you from your bloodline curse in exchange for a hefty payment and a Time-Turner. I still don't see the money you promised. You think you could stroll in with your puppet squad and steal my secrets?!"
Malfoy seemed to regain some composure. "We can proceed to the ritual. You will get your money."
"Are you trying to play me for fool?" I growled, conjuring blades over his wife's and son's throats.
"No," he breathed out and threw down his wand.
The remainder of his escort stepped back to line up along the wall before losing all signs of life. My werewolves began removing stones from the golems' bodies and burning the undead. None resisted.
Excellent. I had played my part to perfection: a greedy, belligerent bitch throwing her weight around. The more idiosyncrasies, the better.
"Bring in the sacrifices," I told the werewolves. To them, this was a rare but unsurprising scene of corporate squabbles. The Dark Lord didn't care who exactly homaged him with a lavish sacrifice. You snooze - you lose.
Once I made sure everything was under control, Lucius joined his family in dreamland. I entered the decoy room with the Malfoys and the sacrifices, where Nagini was waiting to apparate us to the ritual site. Now, the runic circles here were a sight for sore eyes. I arranged all of the participants onto their respective stone slabs and got to work.
Chant the spell, pour the potion into the homunculus, stab it and the sacrifice. Repeat two more times.
Next came the turn of securely restrained Malfoys. I freed Lucius from his uniform and gave his wife and child Polyjuice antidotes before waking them.
"Rise and shine, Lucius," I said, towering over his prone form. "While you were resting, I've cured all of you from the curse. My experimental method worked… But I just couldn't help myself from peeking into your head. You are not a traitor, but I found no devotion to our Lord in your thoughts." I turned up the zeal to mimic Bellatrix. "You will pay for that. Before I slit your slimy throat, I'm going to kill your wife and child."
"You'd never get away with it! Let us go, and I'll make you rich! I swear I won't retaliate!" screamed Malfoy, reinforcing his occlumency.
The boy started wailing. Narcissa was silent.
"Between a dead bean counter and a living student the Dark Lord will choose me! Any sign of his divine attention, even Cruciatus, is a blessing!" Was I overplaying it? Probably not.
Draco cried out for their house elves. Lucius clumsily thrashed in his chains, showering me with threats and promises of money. Narcissa lay perfectly still and stared at the ceiling with unblinking eyes.
"What gorgeous hatred!" I gasped in her direction. "What spirit! The clutches of dread didn't rob her of willpower. Learn bravery from your wife, Lucius. I am going to dedicate your deaths to the Dark Lord."
This was exactly why I staged this little drama. I could dupe the Malfoys but never magic itself. Without their genuine emotions, my ritual would fail. On top of physical ingredients, it called for the two adults to be consumed by desperate, hopeless hatred. It was not my whim. It was required. It could not be faked. It could not be tuned out.
I cut their robes off with a knife and went on to slather their bare bodies in potions, chanting fervent nonsense to reinforce my image: "I offer up their lives to you, my omnipotent master… I offer up their souls to you.." If only I knew how to extract a whole soul…
The knife I held in my hand was one very special trinket. It was not a Dark artifact. Or at all magical. Nothing but an embellished mundane piece of metal. Where a real ritual knife harmed the energy field along with the body, this one would inflict perfectly mundane, perfectly reversible wounds. It wasn't as if I were going to slice up their brains!
Time to get started. I walked over to Draco, stabbed him in the heart and cut his throat in a practiced motion. Lucius's and Narcissa's deafening howls filled the room, but I didn't let them disrupt my concentration. It was already a challenge to unnoticeably keep such a small body from bleeding out. The runes underneath his stone slab lit up, activating an improvised life support system that controlled the blood flow in lieu of the stopped heart. And to prevent the boy from ruining everything, I gently knocked him out after a few seconds of wheezing.
I turned to Narcissa. The child's face radiated panic and confusion, but Narcissa here… Her eyes were a frozen blue void. No reaction to any external stimuli. Did she break? We couldn't have that.
I cautiously watched her in magical sight, remembering whose sister she was, what Bellatrix had accomplished on pure emotion. In theory, the shackles should make her incapable of wandless magic. But I took a closer look.
She was swelling with power. Streams of magic held in by the shackles coursed through her body. Very rapidly… A suicide attempt? It would have been more efficient to destroy the head, and her magic circulated evenly… Self-detonation? Perhaps not… It reminded me of one of the Blacks' tomes Bellatrix once lent me. A type of blood protection… No, my ritual had no room for foreign magic.
"Legilimens!" I said, pointing my wand at her. She threw me out admirably quickly but not before I caught sight of her purpose.
A deathbed curse. She was preparing to kill herself and take the lives of everyone in the room with her.
"You are so much like your sister, even if blonde," I stated the obvious for some reason.
How odd… She had no history of using nonverbal wandless magic, never boasted exceptional power… It was probably the blasted power of love again, good thing I noticed in time!
I slapped her face with telekinesis. Blood spurted, teeth flew to the floor, and her eyes turned lucid.
You did a fine job, Narcissa, but you were a far cry from your sister, with a low pain tolerance to boot.
One more slap. More blood followed by rekindled hatred in her eyes. She resigned to killing herself and her husband for a chance to destroy me. Her lack of proficiency in runes was the only reason she had yet to put together a spell pattern in her mind.
I hit the girl again. Such fierce hatred - the Dementor all but drooled over her. I had to wrap it up with the slapping before I broke more than just her jaw… Cruciatus at last made her go limp and lose the last of her focus. She was a fine witch. Even if she knew that her curse was no match against me, it would not have stopped her.
I froze above her with raised knife.
Actually, this wasn't half-bad. I should try bondage with Bellatrix. Tied ankles and wrists stretching the slender body… The girl's wrecked face better stay unmentioned, but her breasts stuck out oh so provocatively! Maybe try a milder variation of this position with Bella in a friendlier setting?
Fine, I'd think about it later.
I swallowed the drool puddling in my mouth, forced my mind out of the gutter, and got back to work: stabbed Narcissa in the heart and cut her throat.
She still managed to foil my efforts. Either I moved too cautiously after Draco or her breasts were too big, it ended equally shoddily: the knife didn't pierce through her entire heart. Stabbing her twice did not bode well for the ritual, but I had no alternative. This time everything went smoothly.
I stabilized her to the sound of Lucius's ear-piercing shrieks. Then he started cursing me. With plain words, not magic. After giving him some time to savour his wife's 'death throttles,' I sent her to sleep.
"It's your turn, Lucius. Your faith in the Dark Lord is far too weak. We have no room for doubters. Your feeble soul is worthless to the Dark Lord, but be proud of your family! There is no greater honor than sacrificing your soul for His glory! Now, you… You deserve a real punishment. Before you die, I will feed your soul to a Dementor."
I called the Dementor and entered Lucius's frazzled mind to not miss the critical moment.
His thoughts boiled in a mad cocktail of hatred, despair, disdain and fear. I saw regret for getting involved with me, images of the Devil himself slapping me on the shoulder with approval and offering me a place in his court, where Judas would call me his sister. He hoped that no Dark Lord would protect me, that the loathing and suffering of my victims would drag me straight to hell.
It was rather funny because Malfoy had never been religious. Impending doom made people cling to the tiniest straws!
When I saw his thoughts scramble and felt the Dementor's giddy anticipation of the soul about to become his, I moved to the last step that Lucius would not be awake to see. He too received the exact same stab to the heart and sliced throat followed by a soporific charm. The key here was to keep the eager Dementor from gulping him down…
Ekeizid's shackles bound the Dementor on the last vacant rune-covered slab. I dropped the useless knife and pulled out its genuine counterpart to stab the creature. Multiple times, under acceleration charms.
The bubbling power built up by the sacrifices whirled around me, demanding to be released. I directed the stream into the vampire. The pain jolted him back to consciousness with a scream. This conflict of energies was no joke - I had been reading spells for a wizard but stabbed a Dementor. Traditionally, ritualists focused the magic through, but by my estimates no human could survive this. However imprecise, a vampire focus should handle three wizards.
I directed the flow towards Draco Malfoy. The curse, temporarily dislodged by concordant deaths, began to give in.
There were two possible outcomes. If I miscalculated, the boy would die. Narcissa and Lucius would have to make another after I tweak their memories by the Malfoy-Lockhart method. If my efforts healed the boy, they were safe to repeat on the adults.
The vampire hung slack in his chains, smoking as if under direct sunlight. In around five minutes, diagnostic charms showed Draco was free of the curse.
Narcissa went next. In the unlikely event of failure, I'd clean up Lucius's memories. Or stage an Order attack. Albus murdered your wife, what a horrible tragedy! My condolences, would you like an opportunity to avenge her?
Soon, she too was healed without a hitch. I had gotten enough practice to safely work on Lucius. But if he happened to die, I'd convince Narcissa to entrust their heir's estate to the right manager.
When I got done with Lucius, the vampire finally burst into flames. Setting a rogue vampire as a focus and dumping the rebound into him proved to be a brilliant idea. So, little fangy, burn bright and light the way for others.
With the ritual completed, I quickly healed the Malfoys' razor-thin wounds, took a sip of Polyjuice antidote and carried on to the second act of my performance.
Partially paralyzed Lucius open his eyes to my reviving spell. He moved his lips to say something. No words came out.
"So you are the cause of the inordinate excitement I felt through Elena's modified Mark," I said. "She is far too demanding of others. I only ask for your loyalty. Your occasional disrespectful thoughts or profiting from the resources entrusted to you are hardly reasons for punishment. I saved your life, Lucius."
"My family…" he rasped, choking on tears and uselessly trying to turn his head.
"They have been killed with Dark magic. Resurrecting a human after this is extraordinarily difficult even for me. What are you willing to give me in return?"
"Anything! Only it's impossible…"
Music to my ears! Too bad Lily's vow didn't fit here…
"Nothing is impossible for Lord Voldemort. But you must be prepared to pay the price."
And just like that, I gained my first volunteer for a modified Dark Mark I had previously only tested on prisoners. New Dark Mark first, then family back. It was Malfoy's own fault. His grip on the organization's finances needed close monitoring and leverage. And to leave him no time to exact revenge, I had a special plan. He'd see in a few years.
Lucius listlessly collapsed into the nearest armchair before his legs gave out from under him. Draco was soundly asleep in his room, physically healthy and with no memories of today. Lucius desperately wished he could erase his own.
Narcissa was storming around the manor, smashing furniture, vases and everything in sight. All the house elves hid away.
"I'll kill her!" she bellowed. "Then turn her into an inferus and kill her again! Did you see the way she leered at me?!"
"You can't," he said in a weak voice. "She wiped out a third of my guards without Dark magic. Moody and three dozen Aurors couldn't kill her. She beat Rosier in a duel, burned two wizards in a second in Africa-"
"Then I'll poison her!" Narcissa would not cool off. His wife was a composed woman, but today he discovered an entirely new side of her.
"How? Severus is teaching her potions. And if she died… The Dark Lord would resurrect her."
Lucius shuddered. He had watched his wife and son die butchered in a Dark ritual. But here they were, back with him and not a scar to show for it. He promised himself to take any extreme measures necessary to hide these memories. The system he thought secure had already failed twice.
He used to factor in the possibility of the Dark Lord's defeat. Not anymore. After the new control functions, he would never again be able to act the part of a law-abiding citizen. The new Dark Mark was… unique. What kind of deranged mind thought this up? Granted, it was a fair bargain for resurrection, but a slave brand would have been more humane.
The only good news was that they were all alive and cured. He had dreamed of this moment for so many years, imagining Narcissa's blissful laughter when he whisks her to the bedroom to make Draco a baby brother… Or better, a baby sister. Malfoys never had girls lest the line be broken… But now he was in no mood for love. At all.
A house elf timidly approached him. "Master, a letter for you. Urgent."
Lucius tore open the envelope, pale face growing purple with rage as he read the message. He punched the house elf in the head, knocking her to the floor.
"What is it?" asked Narcissa.
"Elena… She wants gold and more… for freeing us from the curse…"
Narcissa exploded in a rant that would have made her mother stuff her mouth with soap. Lucius got to witness a once in a lifetime scene: a bout of accidental magic in an adult. He snatched his wand and ran to put out the burning drapes.
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