Crucible

100 Drabbles, 100 Entries into Lucius Malfoy's Diary

The original series was a Drabble challenge in German and was published at www . alraune . winterwitch. de, and the original drabbles each have a word-count of exactly 100 words. However, while I have tried to keep the translations as closely as possible to the 100 words of the German text, some will have the odd word more or less. The headline above each drabble signifies a work from the challenge table with the number that indicated its place on the table.

1. to sleep (23)

Malfoy Manor, June 29th

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the sleepless nights in chains and icy cold and the guards' casual cruelty – which mudblood would not relish the chance to finally pay back a Malfoy?

Perdurabo – I shall endure – and find those who sent me to hell to take my revenge on them all.

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the silent reproach in Narcissa's eyes and the Dark Mark burned into Draco's arm when I wasn't there to protect him.

Perdurabo – I shall endure – the need to be grateful to the Dark Lord despite it all, because his power set me free.

2. Robe (12)

Malfoy Manor, July 1st

Merlin's underpants! This morning the house-elves fitted my robes, and nothing sits right. Everything is a pitiful two sizes too large. How in hell can I show up at the Ministry looking like that and make a dignified impression?

Narcissa suggested a shopping trip to London, but I'm hardly in the mood for that. Finances are not looking too rosy at the moment, plus I have nothing to wear to leave the house in the first place.

Time to swap my quill for my wand – hope I'm not completely out of practice after one year.

3. Rain (72)

Malfoy Manor, July 3rd

Her fingers trace a scar she has not seen before. I'm lying next to her, listening to the summer-rain whispering against the windows. She lifts herself on one elbow and looks at me.

"How was it?" she asks quietly, and I know she isn't referring to the way we spent the last hour.

It's the question we've been skirting for days now. A thousand memories I don't want and she doesn't need. But I have never lied to her. I try to conjure a smile.

"I missed you so much there, Narcissa," I answer her.

4. Cowslip Flower (04)

Malfoy Manor, July 4th

My son sprawls on the sofa in the drawing room, shoes on the brocade covers. He hasn't seen me. I'm opening my lips for a cutting remark when I see him angle his left arm and press it against his chest.

I know the gesture well: it's like worms crawling under the skin, but scratching only makes it worse.

I sit down next to him, pull a flat container out of my coat-pocket.

"Your mother's cowslip salve. Take it, it helps."

He looks at me, finally sits up and briefly hesitates, then rolls up his sleeve…

5. Past (50)

... I see the familiar outlines of the skull-and-snake. Draco's mark seems darker, more sharply defined than mine.

"Why?" I ask him as he rubs in the honey-colored cream.

He looks at me and shrugs: "Why did you do it then, father?"

I think back to my past, try to remember. I wasn't much older than Draco.

"The wish for power, to belong to something greater, the knowledge that others would fear me."

The words sound hollow now, but he nods as if I had expressed his sentiments. How can I judge him, when he's so like me?

6. Devil (69)

Malfoy Manor, July 6th

Make a pact with the devil and you'll be made to pay: today I've paid for my freedom – with a new prison sentence. This time I will serve it in my own home.

Of course the Dark Lord does not trouble himself any more with telling me personally. He sends his servants, and this miserable slimy rat of a Gryffindor has informed us today we have the "incredible honor" to serve His Lordship and all Death Eaters as the new headquarters. I would have loved to squash the little cockroach. Instead Narcissa had the guest rooms prepared…

7. to brew (32)

Malfoy Manor, July 14th

It would be slander to maintain that Slytherins are anything but pragmatic, which means for us the end justifies the means.

I know I have been accused of passing lethal dark arts objects to little girls, using the Unforgivables and personally attacking Hogwarts students, but if it serves to stop blood traitors or to obstruct the harebrained pro-muggle policies of the Ministry, I believe these means are entirely appropriate. You just can't brew potions without crushing a few herbs.

However, now my new house-guests have given me a whole new perspective on the "means"…

8. Bone (20)

... there's McNair who keeps spitting on our priceless rugs, Greyback who's chasing the peacocks through the park at full moon – not to mention that chewed-upon eight-year-old, who we needed to obliviate before we could let him go.

Bellatrix's and Rodolphus' constant yelling at each other is a marriage nightmare. And on every nightly trip to the bathroom one stumbles over Nagini who has the run of the manor if she's not in the garden regurgitating suspicious-looking bones…

If these are the "means" to take over society, even a Slytherin like me starts having doubts. These people are a catastrophe!

9. Dungeon (06)

Malfoy Manor, July 17th

I am the first to honor my illustrious ancestors, but old Mordred Malfoy was a complete moron! How can you build a dungeon right underneath your living-room?! So far it hasn't bothered me, because we only stashed our dark arts items in it, but now the Dark Lord uses it for prisoners…

Yesterday he and Wormtail were all over the kidnapped Ollivander down there: something about wands.

Must have been very unpleasant for the guy, because there was much screaming involved.

And I'm supposed to sit here and read the Daily Prophet over this racket?!

10. Peppermint (30)

Malfoy Manor, July 20th

Severus is visiting. He sips a glass of peppermint tea and I am racking my brains how I can thank him for saving Draco's ass last summer by finally killing Dumbledore. I cannot think of anything that won't make me look like a complete looser of a father.

Finally I decide to change the topic: "At least we won't have to put up with such nonsense as muggle studies anymore".

Black, expressionless eyes stare at me. Severus puts down his tea.

"The change in curriculum is hanging from your dining room ceiling, in case you hadn't noticed".

Malfoy Manor, July 20th, evening

A hand before the abyss – a hand in deepest darkness – her hand...

"Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore," rasps his voice. Ruby and blood pierce me, gaze into the depths of my soul, dive into the black waters of my despair and wallow in them with swinish abandon. And before the eyes of everyone I surrender what makes me who I am. I am surrounded by leering, malicious gloating faces.

"Elm and dragon heartstring, My Lord..."

Her hand – cool, determined, calm – in deepest darkness it is all that remains to me.

Malfoy Manor, July 21st

The house is quiet, grey morning light filters through the high windows. Narcissa seems lost between the tangled sheets and looks at me.

"The beginning of the end," she murmurs, but there is no rebuke in her voice, just dispassionate acceptance.

A moment later, however, she makes a decisive movement over to her night table and proffers me her wand.

"Here, try it, Lucius," she encourages me.

My fingers curl gratefully around light and unfamiliar wood – yew and Veela-hair, 13 inches.

I cast and point at a pillow: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

And the whole bedroom transforms into a blizzard of exploding feathers…

Malfoy Manor, July 23rd

He is back in the dining room in front of the long table, his narrow shoulders raised, and stares into empty space where four days ago a woman was grotesquely suspended from the ceiling. His hand rakes through blond hair. He turns and cringes as he sees me.

I recall him falling out of his chair as the body of the dead teacher crashes onto the table, but it was not the only black moment for us on that fateful evening.

He licks his lips nervously: "Father..."

I gesture for him to be quiet.

14. bitter (65)

I was tougher at his age, and as bitter as it may seem, he has to catch up, or he will perish.

"What is your point, Draco? A blood traitor is dead. You either accept that or you will be next."

He looks as if he'd love to run away, but then it bursts out of him: "It does not have to be this way, father. He – he said he can protect us, if we…"

I stare at him: "Who?!"

"D-d-dumbledore," he stammers.

I do not hesitate for one second as I backhand him across the face. To leave him with this mad, impossible hope would be the crueler choice.

15. Broom (27)

Malfoy Manor, July 27th

The jumbled voices of the fighters are just an echo: "Crazy, did you see how he swiped Moody off his broom?" – "Man, Rodolphus is pretty beat up, don'tcha think?" – "We didn't get that damn Potter brat – again!"

Stomping steps disperse throughout the house – the Dark Lord and Wormtail have a few interesting questions for Ollivander, the rest of the troop are on their way to the kitchens or to their rooms.

I remain alone in the entrance hall, stare at the slivers of elm-wood in my hands and still hear the oily voice hissing into my ear: „Even your wand is useless, Malfoy!"

16. Primrose (08)

Malfoy Manor, July 29

She sits by herself on a bench in the park, perfect as ever: grey silk, coiffed hair, her slender back straight. She looks away from the house and picks apart white primrose blossoms from a bush beside the bench.

I used to tease her about this restlessness in her hands.

For a moment I consider going to her, but I have nothing to say to her that the hundred ears in this house could hear. Regret is not an option for Death Eaters, and it would be a poor response to her strength.

I close the curtains against my moment of weakness and return to my business accounting.

17. Power (56)

Malfoy Manor, July 31st

I watch my owl cleaning his feathers over on the window sill and reread the parchment – the pieces are in place: Thicknesse imperiused, the reporters at the Daily Prophet bribed, key positions at the Ministry filled with our people. Tomorrow the power will be ours and the rule of the magical world will fall into our hands like a ripened fruit.

I feel no sense of triumph: my participation is inconsequential, even unwanted, my money barely good enough for bribes. My son takes my place now, and I can only hope that he will survive tomorrow's revolt.

Malfoy Manor, August 1st

He walks up to the house accompanied by four hooded figures. In the evening light his tousled hair shines brightly among the dark robes. I recognize Bellatrix and Dolohov, who accompany him. Narcissa's hand closes around mine.

"He's alive," she whispers.

I release her, so she can walk to meet him. In the entrance hall he breaks away from the group of Death Eaters, stumbles towards her. She catches him, holds him.

"Rowle," he retches. "I'm gonna be sick!"

Bella laughs raucously; she pats him on the shoulder in a show of good humor. – "Come on, that wasn't half bad for your first cruciatus…"

Malfoy Manor, August 3rd

We have a new house elf. Since Malfoy Manor serves as our headquarters the servants are at a point where even self-inflicted punishment does not do the trick any more. The replacement for Dobby is spindly as a stick, terribly nervous since he's been put into bondage to the family and of indeterminable sex.

Today "it" was supposed to help out in the kitchens. I secretly observe our guests, but so far no one has complained about the food. When I finally relax and turn to my desert, the cold voice of the Dark Lord interrupts me.

„What IS this? Frog spawn?!"

Horrified I stare into the small glass bowl in front of me: tapioca pudding! That's it, I'm a goner!

London, August 8th

The air is still and it is terribly hot. Boredom, however, makes for the worst torment. I've been watching Jugson for over an hour now as he secretly picks his nose when he thinks I am not paying attention. The view is only marginally more interesting than the grey, dirty walls of the two houses with the numbers 11 and 13. Nothing is stirring between them.

A soft rustle breaks my train of thoughts.

Jugson has pulled a paper bag from his greasy robes and digs around in it with his fat sausage fingers, then he offers the bag to me: "Sour drops, Lucius?"

I politely decline.

London, August 9th

Changing of the guard: I have let Rodolphus and Dolohov talk me into coming to the Leaky Cauldron with them. The landlord pushes a fire whisky towards me with a face as if he wished it were a cup of essence of hemlock.

A few wizards at the next table are trying to curry favor with us and raise their drinks: "About time you were released, Mr. Malfoy!" "Miscarriage of justice." "Congratulations!"

Others regard us with fear or hatred – they would probably have things to say as well, but do not dare. Cross a Death Eater and you disappear.

Scum! I despise them equally, the turncoats as much as the cowards who do not dare to spit at our feet.

22. Werewolf (64)

Malfoy Manor, August 10th

I can see it in her eyes – for a moment they widen with fear, then they become narrow, cold, dark with hatred. She gathers her robes across her chest and I can hear her words before she even opens her mouth: "Come, Draco..."

The boy shivers, blinks and follows his mother out of the room. She does not look back. I watch them, silent and motionless. Fenrir Greyback leans against the wall, licks his lips and stares after them.

Then he turns to me, grins brazenly: "Next time, eh, Malfoy?"

Malfoy Manor, August 13th

Midnight, but on my way to the bedroom I hear the decisive sounds of an incantation behind Draco's door. I knock and open. There he stands in his pajamas, in the middle of the room, his wand at the ready.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, father."

"I can see that!"

He hesitates.

"Potter taught this to his fellow students last term. We know from Umbridge's interrogations."

"Show me."

He looks at me, a sudden grin on his face, then a powerful swish of his wand.

" Expecto patronum!"

Shimmering light surrounds us and I see a small, glowing white ferret rush up my trouser-leg and curl up on my shoulder…

24. to learn (99)

...the little creature of light seems completely at ease and very playful. As I stretch out my arm it runs along my shirtsleeve and rubs its furry head against my hand.

I know the magic – Draco possesses talent, no doubt of that.

" You know that the dementors are officially our allies. Why would you learn the patronus?"

The ferret fades. My son nods silently. I wave my last remark aside.

"What was your visualization?" I ask instead.

Now the grin is back.

"Our very first flight demonstration for Mama. Do you remember, she nearly got a heart attack when I flew that double looping: she was so cross with us, and we had to laugh so hard!"

Malfoy Manor, August 21st

He is finally gone!

I watch the house elves drag long strips of yellowed old snakeskin out of his bedroom and feel as if I had just been released from Azkaban all over again.

We are no longer in the pillory: in the morning when his calculating red eyes regard me across his teacup and every look reminds me again that I have lost the game, that he can eliminate me and my family at any time; in the evening when his henchmen gather around him, lick his boots, make their reports and like dumb dogs slavishly wait for their punishment or their commendation.

He is finally gone!

London, September 1st

You can feel the change in the air – where all these years muggle scum brazenly loitered on the platform sending off their brats, there are now only true witches and wizards, escorting their children to the train.

Narcissa is wearing her new velvet robes and walks nonchalantly by my side. Draco strides next to us leading two house-elves that nearly disappear under his luggage.

Inconspicuously I poke him with my cane.

"Don't slouch, Draco," I hiss at him.

No matter what has happened, this year Draco will be again the uncrowned king of Slytherin.

27. Raven (79)

Malfoy Manor, September 2nd

Since our school-days he has reminded me of a raven – the feathers dipped in dark oil, hook-beaked he perches, his shoulders slightly lifted, head tilted sideways in mockery. He is intelligent, but you never quite know what happens behind those black, alert eyes. He is agile, and yet never quite amounts to anything. His cynicism matches his ill fortune.

Still, he has been a reliable ally over the years – my expert and my poisoner at need, a good mentor for Draco and a support for Narcissa in my absence. I dip my feather in ink:

„Dear Severus,

Congratulations upon your appointment as the headmaster of Hogwarts..."

28. to gather (38)

Malfoy Manor, September 7th

The house has emptied – since their master is traveling by himself and his commands to not gather them around him anymore, most of the Death Eaters have left. I am stuck with three homeless remnants that I would not mind loosing as well...

Wormtail whose alternative residence would have to be a rat cage is skulking around the dungeons and pretends to guard our prisoners. Bella stays because this is the closest she can get to the Dark Lord. He has refused her offer to accompany him to the continent. Rodolphus shows grim faithfulness. He has already followed his wife to Azkaban, and Malfoy Manor is rather less of a sacrifice.

Malfoy Manor, September 12th

I suppress my disgust at the cowering, toad-like man and stop Pettigrew on his way to the corner he has chosen for his bedding in the cellars. He fawns at me, embarrassed, and scrapes his feet.

I waste no time on pleasantries: "Why have you searched for Him and brought him back?"

He winces and touches his throat with his strange silvery Hand.

"Wh-what do you mean, Mr. Malfoy?"

He trembles.

„Y-you know yourself what he does to those who have not searched for him. Even me, so faithful, so devoted... my hand..."

I am beginning to understand.

Fear is all that this man knows, that even chained him to the Dark Lord when he was destroyed, when Wormtail could have been free. And he has nothing more to lose than his own miserable worthless little life.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

A short scornful gesture shuts him up. I am done with him and walk away.

However, the uncomfortable question remains: am I like Pettigrew?

Yes I am afraid of Him. I would be a fool if I wasn't. I dread what he could do to my family, but I am not possessed by my fear. If Draco and Narcissa were safe I could even afford the luxury of bravery.