In Truth the Spirit Lives in Us All

In Truth the Spirit Lives in us All

Chapter Two: Adonis Marvolo Rookwood

"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."
----Terry Pratchett

February 4, 1979. An ordinary wizard or Muggle would be oblivious to this date with in mind it's only another Sunday. However, the Rookwoods weren't ordinary. Throughout their lineage, the Rookwoods have been notoriously famous for high-class criminal behavior, hence, why their manor made the Malfoys look like paupers. With their elegant, state of the art wizard possessions, their sophisticated, stylish manor design, their grand, varied library which contained some of the most ancient powerful dark art books, their high political rank and influence, and their overall persona. The Rookwoods were not to be tampered with.

Agro Bedivere Rookwood was the heir and master of the Rookwood household. His younger brother who could never live up to their parents' standards, Augustus Rookwood, could be seen constantly trying to out stage Agro, failing miserably every time. Agro's beautiful young wife, Blair Fia Rookwood, was three months pregnant with their soon to be son, Arthmael Urien Rookwood. The Rookwoods' lifestyle was desired by most of the wizarding world, even with their family's reputation. However, like most of these families, the Rookwoods held a dark secret.

Agro Rookwood was in fact a Death Eater. Augustus was as well, but never lived up to his brother, for Agro was most likely more close to Voldemort than any other Death Eater.

Voldemort and Agro were not friends, but allies. Agro would mingle in the politics, giving Voldemort more free reign to do his own bidding, and in return Agro was taught personally the dark arts from Voldemort himself. Voldemort never mentioned Agro's identity to any other Death Eater due to his satisfaction with Agro's devotion and efficiency. Of course Agro was always prepared for the worst with the Dark Lord, so he created a false name for Voldemort to call him, in case his master ever faltered in their bargain.

However, Agro was given a new assignment this evening: To wait and discuss something important with his master. So Agro and Blair sat on their leather couch in the polished, black-alabaster floored lounge next to the marble, gold-designed fireplace. They sat in silence, listening to the fire crackle and soften in blaze. Finally, midnight arrived, along with two people lingering outside the front door.

Agro immediately got up from his seat and secured his mask to greet his guests. He would have his house-elves do it if it was any ordinary guest, however Agro knew better. Voldemort didn't favor uninvited guests in his meetings. It was quite a shock to Agro that Voldemort insisted Blair attend this meeting as well, for Blair wasn't a Death Eater. In fact, Blair was completely oblivious to Agro being a Death Eater until recently.

The shifting in the dark revealed a beautiful woman with raven hair, glazed cinnamon skin, and crimson-red lips. He would never forget her lips. Beyond her complexion she held what looked like a bundle of dark cloth. Except...it was moving...

"Are you planning on gazing at Bellatrix all night, or inviting us in, Algernon?"

It was none other than Voldemort who spoke. To Agro's utter discomfiture, he completely overlooked his presence, much to the Dark Lord's dismay. Agro had to give himself a mental slap. It was quite a shock that Bellatrix Lestrange was invited to the meeting, for Voldemort and Agro always had their meetings alone, hence why his identity was secret.

"My Lord, please come in."

He followed with a bow. Ironic really; someone with his reputation acting as one of his house-elves would. But under these circumstances, such as survival for instance, there are exceptions to bending the rules of social hierarchy.

With a flicker of his wand and snap of his fingers, the fire dimmed as four golden plates complemented by crystal glasses appeared over the spotless Indian-laurel dining table. The plates revealed sautéed salmon, accompanied by Russian caviar on top of warm French bread, baked with herbs from his very own tended garden. The crystal glasses shimmered like diamonds from the soft-lit fire. Encased in each glass was Saint Julien red wine, imported from Bordeaux, France. The light reflecting from the wine left an imprint on the wood a shade of blood sunset at the brink of night.

Voldemort allowed the wine to caress him with its mesmeric fragrance, embracing his senses to indulge in its divine taste. His lips twitched into a half-smile. The hospitality of the Rookwoods always had benefits.

"Such exquisite aroma, Algernon. Cedar box I believe?"

"It is, my Lord."

His luminous red eyes flickered with delight when the wine met his lips. Bellatrix, on the other hand, laid neither wine nor cuisine to hers. Bellatrix's arms simply clutched the bundle to her chest, her lips set like stone. Voldemort, Agro, and Blair ate in silence, only letting the burning coals sing a soft melody for them.

"You of course realize I did not come here merely to dine in your hospitable manor, Algernon," he purred. Lord Voldemort had a way with words, creating them to be mellifluous to appease the listener. Agro had much more skepticism about his words. When he used his charm, there was always a price.

"What is it you desire to be done, my Lord?" He regretted the tone he used seconds later, for the Dark Lord looked into his eyes. Those cat-like eyes flashed towards the bundle before settling on Agro's reluctant expression. He smiled, followed by the slight shiver down Agro's spine.

"Now Algernon, do I sound imperious to you?"

Agro gazed into those enticing eyes. Voldemort's smile grew wider, looking unnatural on his taut face. "I simply ask for you to watch over my possession."

Agro's eyes darted to the thing in the bundle. It quivered, and Agro flinched.

"You want me to watch over that...thing?"

Bellatrix who remained silent since she arrived spoke. "The Dark Lord asked you to do a task for him, unless you are unable."

"Now, now, Bella," Voldemort implied, "Algernon is certainly skilled enough to do the task at hand."

Bellatrix flinched. She then regained her taciturn presence, her crimson lips cold as ice. Handing the bundle to Agro, Bellatrix made her way to the front entrance without a glance at the rest, marching off into the night. Agro glanced at the bundle fidgeting in his arms. His curiosity revealed a small, striking face of a sleeping newborn. Blair gasped and instinctively grabbed the infant to tend to.

Voldemort made an impatient noise. "I must inform the both of you, if it is shown any love or affection, I will personally end the life of the one who has given it."

Blair almost dropped the infant in shock; may fate have mercy on her soul if she did. "It is a thing...which you must make sure stays alive, educated, intact..." he went on, his voice less than a whisper, "...that is all it is...a thing, a possession...nothing more."

Agro hesitantly asked out of slight suspicion, "My Lord...about Bellatrix..."

Voldemort instantly knew what was on his mind. "She is sworn to secrecy of your name, Algernon; as you and your wife are to keep quiet about this meeting."

With that in mind, Agro grew less tense and turned to inspect the possession. Its face was quite elegant; unsuitable for a baby, really. Then again, it was just a thing, not really human, he eased to himself.

"Does it have a name?" Agro asked, examining the infant.

"Adonis Marvolo Rookwood should suit it well." And with that, Lord Voldemort strode into the night, merging with the darkness.