Chapter 9 - Blondie

He sighed angrily, pushing his hair out of his face. He really didn't have time for this. Getting up off his ass, as he hand been knocked off his feet by the slim figure running full force into him, he quickly stepped forward and bent down; pressing his hand to the young man's neck. Feeling a steady, yet faster than normal pulse, he raised his neck with a strong yet gentle hand. Visually inspecting the back of his head, he saw no sign of blood. Physically from what he could see, the boy was fine.

'I should just leave him here,' Lucius thought spitefully, 'given he doesn't even have the decency to watch where he is running.' The thought died as he noticed the boy didn't even have shoes on. Checking his feet, he found long green shards of glass stuck into the thick calloused soles, eyebrows raising as he felt magical remnants of a spell attached to his toes. 'Curious…' Lucius cast a featherweight spell, glancing to make sure the muggles bustling around them acting like they didn't care at all about the unconscious boy didn't notice. He lifted him with ease, bridal style, then walked to the nearest alley, and Disapparated.

Stumbling slightly as he appeared in front of the tiny forest cottage, he made his way up the stone steps; the door silently opening for him. He lay the boy on the cot in the corner of the room, drew the curtains to shut out the light, and sighed as he shrugged out of his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Almost lazily, he flicked his wrist to cast a deep diagnostic spell- one he learned shortly after he had started serving the Dark Lord and realized how many injuries you miss when you try to diagnose them yourself. His eyes widened at the extensive list of past injuries, things he would only see in the Dark Lords prisoner playthings. He quelled his anger as the diagnostic only came up with the injuries sustained from- 'Right, the glass.' He tossed his hair back annoyedly as he realized that he would have to pick the glass shard out by hand, as trying to summon so many pieces may cause further damage. Grabbing a quill off the tiny desk adjacent to the door, he transfigured it into tweezers and set to work, making sure to get every piece of what he assumed was a crushed beer bottle.

He glanced upwards as the boy shifted in his sleep, moaning lightly in discomfort as Lucius dug out a particularly long and embedded piece in the arch of his foot. Dropping it into the small tin next to him, he wiped his hand across his slightly sweaty forehead, grimacing when he realized he hadn't even washed his hands before doing so.

'Strange,' he thought, 'how I feel as if I owe this boy something.'

He almost smacked himself when he realized that he didn't even know the blood status of this boy, he could be a muggle- or worse yet, a muggleborn or half-blood that would surely recognize him upon wakening. He surely couldn't be a Pureblood as he didn't recognize the boy's face. Panic flared and fluttered against his ribcage. If this got back to the Dark Lord he would surely be punished. Waving his wand, his eyebrows drew together in puzzlement as the boy registered as a pureblood- but only the first generation. A boy maybe with wizard parents but one a muggleborn? Lucius' eyes narrowed as the registry failed to name the parents- or the family trees for that matter. That usually only happened with muggleborn children- not Purebloods.

He cast a deeper Blood Spell, dainty blond brows furrowing as his spell hit a blockage- a very strong one by the looks of it.

Someone had placed this spell on the boy a very long time ago, and it had only gotten stronger with age. He flinched and withdrew his magic as he noticed the spell was intertwined with the boy's magic, being fed tendrils of it- the core of his magic felt immense, a deep golden pool that he had only felt in very few people, two of which would try to control this colossal expanse of raw energy if they ever had the chance, or in fear, destroy it. If he had touched the bond or tried to remove it, he could have destroyed himself and the boy, as well as the rest of the forest around them. Lucius leaned back in his chair, breathing hard through his nose at being so close to death.

Who was this boy?

A/N: Sorry for not posting in almost two years, I don't really have an excuse and feel bad about leaving everyone hanging. I get easily discouraged and am dyslexic with no beta reader so apologies if some of my writing is hard to read. Nobody I know actually reads these. (Tino had her babies and I still have two of them! Sadly the mother and father of Mavis and Eve have passed but their legacy lives on!)