Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy
Characters:
Lucius Malfoy
Genres:
Mystery Adventure
Era:
1970-1981 (Including Marauders at Hogwarts)
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 12/28/2007
Updated: 12/28/2007
Words: 8,970
Chapters: 1
Hits: 153

Seeking Glory

ForeverSirius77

Story Summary:

Chapter 01

Posted:
12/28/2007
Hits:
153

Author's Note: This one-shot includes the first four prompts issued in the challenge (out of a possible ten). School and real-life became a little crazy, so I was not able to get as far as I wish I could have. Anyway, I am pretty pleased with the outcome. Now, I present for your enjoyment, Seeking Glory.

~**~

Seeking Glory

~**~

Bright, early morning sunlight was streaming through the Great Hall's massive windows and onto the bodies of the numerous students inside. The magical ceiling, bewitched to mirror the weather, displayed a completely clear sky outside, a sight that was completely opposite from the raging storms that had pounded against the castle walls the previous evening. All in all, the day ahead looked to be an incredibly nice one.

Incredibly nice, however, was not how Lucius Malfoy wanted the day to be. The seventeen-year-old Slytherin sat in his normal spot at his House's table in the Great Hall, a slim and beautiful Narcissa Black located to his right. Twirling his fork in his hand, Lucius pushed his food around on his plate, his stomach screaming messages to his brain that it did not want to be fed anything.

After he became tired of shoving around the eggs, sausages, and bacon strips, Lucius dropped his fork down with a clang, pushing his plate away from him as he sat back. Running his hands through his soft, shoulder-length blond hair, the rich Slytherin massaged his neck and rubbed at his exhausted grey eyes. His eyes were jerked back open and his gaze returned to the table, however, when he felt a slender hand on his arm.

"Where were you last night, Lucius?" said Narcissa as she leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, bringing her hand down his arm and leaving it to rest on top of his hand, her fingers stroking his own as she spoke.

Lucius sighed as he looked at the youngest Black sister. "Nowhere," he muttered as he tried to stifle a yawn and flipped his own hand over so that he was holding hers, intertwining their fingers together. He did not say anything else, and Narcissa did not push the issue. He had never been very forthcoming with information, no matter how much she pushed him to reveal anything. Why would this time be any different?

Once Narcissa had dropped the issue and leaned away from him to talk with one of her friends, Lucius released the yawn that he had failed to keep inside himself. Last night had been an extremely long night, and Lucius could not deny the fact that he was exhausted. He had not slept well the night before, both in terms of the quantity and the quality of his sleep. His left arm was still stinging in pain from the recently applied Dark Mark, a mark that had only recently stopped bleeding. Last night had been his initiation into the Dark Lord's circle of followers, an event he had been looking forward to for the past year, and now it was finally achieved. The ceremony had, however, taken up more of his time than he had originally hoped that it would. Although he had left the castle shortly after the evening feast at ten o'clock, it was after three o'clock in the morning before he was able to return to Hogwarts.

With a traditional Malfoy family smirk on his face, Lucius glanced up at the head table in the Great Hall, his grey eyes focusing on an old wizard seated in the very centre of the table. His smirk widened as he watched the headmaster take a sip of his morning drink, not knowing that at least three of his students had left the school the previous night to join his enemy. The irony of the entire situation pleased Lucius, in a weird way, and he was not able to keep his expression hidden well enough.

"What are you smirking about, Malfoy?" exclaimed a fifth-year Slytherin from the opposite end of the table. The name of the boy escaped the Death Eater at the moment, but that did not matter. Slyly withdrawing his wand from his pocket, Lucius pointed it discreetly at the boy from under the table, and smirked when his fellow Slytherin's hand broke out in sores.

"You really should go to the Hospital Wing for that," he hissed, glaring at the fifth-year before turning his attention back towards his uneaten breakfast. He was not able to spend much time playing with his food, however, because no sooner had he picked up his disregarded fork did hundreds of owls start sweeping into the hall, letters, papers, and packages all carried tightly in their grasps.

The numerous owls flew throughout the Great Hall, circling around until they were able to find their prospective student and deliver their packages. An eagle owl swooped down next to Narcissa, delivering several letters from her family, most of them from her oldest sister Bellatrix, who had graduated from the school a few years ago. Several minutes later, another eagle owl landed next to Lucius. It was his family's owl, and it came bearing the weekly treats from his mother. Lucius ripped open the packages half-heartedly, a bored expression on his face. Inside were some chocolates and other candies, very few of which the Slytherin even liked. A slightly disgusted look on his face as he opened the last package, revealing several lemon and coconut-flavoured sweets, he pushed the boxes of treats away and resumed messing with his food.

It seemed, however, that the fates did not want him messing with his breakfast. Having picked up the fork, Lucius was just about to shove the by-now-cold eggs over next to the bacon strips when another owl came flying down and landed right next to his plate of toast. This owl, however, was one that Lucius had never seen before, and he knew that he would have remembered it if he had.

The owl was coloured as white as the first snowfall in the winter time, and the colour was so pure that the bird itself seemed to be bright and glowing. A total of three black spots were located on the bird: one above the right eye, one on the outside of the left wing, and another in the centre of the owl's chest, almost like where a heart would be. Its eyes were a golden yellow colour, though the left one held a slight greenish tint to it, and in its beak was clutched a single, square piece of parchment.

"Whose owl is that, Lucius?" asked Narcissa as she examined the odd bird. She had finished reading her own letters and had turned her attention back towards her boyfriend's mail.

"I don't know," he said. "I've never seen it before." With that, Lucius grabbed the letter from the owl, and as soon as it was relieved of its message, the bird took back off into the air.

After watching the owl fly away, Lucius returned his attention to examining the square piece of parchment clutched in his hand. There was no address on it to tell him who it came from; the only writing was his name on the front, written in an elegant, cursive-type script.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy

Turning the parchment over, Lucius saw that it bore a blood-red wax seal, the symbol on it that of an elegant, giant chalice, a tongue of flames rising from the cup, and the whole thing surrounded around the edges by intertwining vines. Although he did not recognize the seal, as elegant as it was, Lucius tore open the letter and allowed his grey eyes to travel over the words written inside.

Irresistible lure,

Custom-built prize,

Awaits the doer

Who makes it in time.

Just for you,

Was this treasure made,

Collect the clues,

And survive the maze.

If you can name it,

This thing with danger bought,

Then you can claim it,

But don't get caught.

Outside the doors

At ten tonight

With skills yours

Your glory will shine bright.

"'Your glory will shine bright,'" muttered Lucius once he reached the end of the cryptic message. What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean? He did not have a lot of time to think about the meaning behind the letter's words, however. As soon as he had muttered the last line of the poem, Narcissa let out a slight scream as the letter burst into flames, turning directly to ashes right in front of his face. Within only a few seconds, the square piece of parchment had become a small pile of dark grey ashes on the Slytherin House table.

"'Collect the clues and survive the maze,'" whispered Narcissa. "What maze, Lucius?" she asked as she leaned back in closer to him, like she had done at the beginning of breakfast. "Lucius?" she repeated after he had not responded to her.

Lucius did not pay any attention to the youngest Black sister; his mind was still too attached to the letter he had received. Not only did he not recognize the owl, but he did not recognize the seal or the handwriting, and the letter itself made absolutely no sense to the seventeen-year-old Malfoy.

As he tried to ponder the origins and the meanings of the letter, Lucius glanced around the Great Hall. Was it possible that this was some sort of a trick? He did not think so, but one could never be too sure. For a brief moment, he even directed his eyes up to the staff table once again, his gaze locking on Albus Dumbledore, but the headmaster gave no sign that he knew anything about the letter.

Sighing, as well as frustrated that he did not have an answer to the mystery of the letter, Lucius rose from his seat to head to his first class of the day: Transfiguration with the Gryffindor Mudbloods.

All throughout the day, Lucius was unable to keep his concentration on his work. His mind kept returning to the letter that he had received at breakfast, and by the end of his last class, that of Defence Against the Dark Arts, the Slytherin had finally come to a decision regarding the cryptic message. He would go outside the doors at ten o'clock that night. He would find the maze, if there even was such a maze, and he would win whatever prize was at the end. After all, why would a Slytherin pass up letting his glory and talent be known?

It was 9:45 before Lucius left the Slytherin common room and made his way to the entrance hall of the castle. No one was around at this time, which was not an extremely odd occurrence. The students would, after all, be heading back to their common rooms as curfew was approaching, and the teachers had not yet started any patrolling of the corridors. Shutting the doors quietly behind him, Lucius left the castle and entered out into night's darkness.

As soon as the doors had fully closed, several fires lit up along the dirt pathway in front of the Slytherin, their light breaking through the darkness. They lit up one by one, forming their own pathway through the school's grounds. Lucius, pulling his wand from his pocket and scanning his surroundings with a quick glance, decided to follow the fires.

Several minutes later, he reached the end of the path, and standing before him, or more correctly, towering before him, were humongous green hedges. They were at least twenty meters high, though in the pitch darkness of the night the plants seemed to go on forever, reaching into the black sky and never ending in their pursuit. Lucius reached out a hand and as soon as his fingers encountered the leaves on the giant hedge, the last set of fires extinguished, sending Lucius and the surrounding area into total darkness.

"Welcome to my maze," hissed a frail voice, causing Lucius to jerk around. There was no one there, and the voice had been so soft and faint, that the Slytherin was sure that either he had just imagined it in the first place, or it had just simply been the wind. Turning back around to face the entrance to what he could only guess was the maze, Lucius released a breath and, taking another look behind him to ensure he was not being followed, took one step forward.

As soon as Lucius had entered the maze, all sound immediately ceased. He felt like he had suddenly become deaf. The Slytherin muttered "Lumos," lighting up the dirt path in front of him. He took a brief look back at the silhouette of the Hogwarts castle, its towers reaching into the night sky, before pointing the tip of his wand forward and travelling deeper into the maze.

Time seemed to crawl by unnaturally slowly for the Slytherin. Lucius felt like he had been walking for hours, his path and destination never changing. The maze's path had stayed in a straight line, and the seventeen-year-old wizard was getting bored with the lack of difficulty or surprises.

Some maze, he thought to himself, a slight scowl appearing on his pale, pointed face. But still, he continued on, and as the hours stretched by, the walls of massive green hedges lining the narrow, dirt path became closer together, almost coming to seem like they were a solid plant. It caused the landscaping feature to start feeling a bit caged, and Lucius's patience was running low. He despised feeling locked up, and was almost to the point of wanting to blast through the hedge walls, regardless of what prize or glory laid at the end of the maze.

Finally, though, the scenery around the Slytherin began to change. Lucius found himself entering a wide, garden setting of sorts. The garden was surrounded by trees, though he could not be sure exactly what types they were. One looks like it's yew, he thought for a moment, but then shrugged his shoulders. Elements of plants and nature had never been of much interest to him, after all.

Lucius left the caged maze area and began walking around the garden. He also noticed that the dirt pathway that he had been on at first had come to a stop, only to be replaced by one that was made from bricks, causing his boots to create noise that echoed around the circular garden setting with each step that he took.

The brick path also had several smaller walkways that branched off from it. One of the branches headed towards the left, while another headed towards the right. Raising his wand for a moment, Lucius sent the beam of light down each path to see their destinations. The left one just ended in a patch of orange pumpkins, while the right one went into another tunnel of the maze, a tunnel that Lucius saw had its path blocked by a wall of thick thorns surrounded by a swirling, magical barrier.

Sighing with frustration, though at the same time trying to figure out what was going on, Lucius just continued walking along the main brick pathway. He sent his Lumos spell shining down on the path's end, only to see that, like the others, it too ended in a dead end. However, unlike the two other choices, there was a stone bench with some objects on it at this walkway's end, so Lucius just continued on.

"Aachoo! Aachoo!" All of a sudden, Lucius had begun to sneeze, and he just could not stop. "Aachoo! Aachoo!" The Malfoy heir sent his wand's light scanning over the grounds around him, and his grey eyes caught sight of the cause of his sudden nasal problem. Sneezewort was scattered all around, its leaves blowing in the warm summer breeze that swept through the garden. Lucius hurried past the plants, sneezing several more times as he did so.

Finally, he made it to the pathway's end, and sitting before him was an old and cracked grey stone bench, its damage making it appear ancient. The two ends were crumbling apart, and there was a large, thick crack that split the stone bench right down the centre. But the bench itself was not the only thing he met, for, sitting atop the structure were several glass jars and containers, all of which were filled with dried roots and plants, some of which Lucius recognized from the potions' dungeons. To his left, there was a Mimbulous Mimbletonia, its many boils looking ready to explode, and next to it a small, brown cloth sack.

"What the --" muttered Lucius as he looked at the odd assortment of objects, wondering how plants and sacks were going to get him glory. He scanned his grey eyes over the bench, thinking perhaps he had missed something that would help to clue him in. His cold gaze rested on a small, dragon-leather book on the far right side of the bench. Lucius picked up the book slowly and cautiously opened it.

The book was completely blank save for the first page. It said:

In my midst you're sure to find

Plants and herbs of every kind

Search me well and you will see

Fluxweed, Hellebore, Gillyweed

Beware the Mandrake's cry if you

Should ever dig for Gurdyroot

Before you leave you must bring

Lovage, dittany, and shrivelfig

And in my pages you must write

The other names of aconite

With that the door will open wide

And you may take of what I hide

So stop to ponder if you will

The Malowsweet won't make you ill.

Once he finished reading, Lucius scowled and sighed. Plants, Herbology, and Lucius Malfoy had never mixed well with each other. The only things that he knew for a fact were the different names of aconite. Every first-year knows that the answers are monkshood and wolfsbane, he thought with a smirk.

But the Malfoy heir did not care for plants, and no prize or glory was worth this much. "The hell with this," said Lucius as he turned back on the path to leave. He made it all the way back to where he had entered the garden area before he was stopped.

As soon as he took his first step off of the brick path to go back into the maze's tunnel from which he had entered, the hedges surrounding the tunnel came together to create a wall, causing the dirt pathway to disappear beyond it.

"Not yet, Malfoy," hissed a voice. "I want you to play first." Lucius jerked around, his wand raised and an Unforgivable Curse on his lips. But there was no one there, and Lucius's temper was getting ready to explode.

"Damn," he said as he walked back to the stone bench to sift through the plants.

Several hours, a few curses, and some Stinksap later, Lucius had identified and recovered the objects that he needed. Lovage, dittany, and shrivelfig sat in the brown cloth sack that the Slytherin held in his hand, and the words "monkshood" and "wolfsbane" were sprawled across the second page in the dragon-leather book. A few drops of blood and Stinksap also joined the two other names for aconite.

Muttering a few spells to remove the Stinksap from his robes, Lucius looked up in front of him to see what had appeared at first to be a massive, green hedge wall turn into a tall, redbrick wall. Right in the middle of the wall, the seventh-year Slytherin watched as a wooden door appeared out of nowhere. With frustration in his voice, he sighed, threw down the sack of plants onto the stone bench, and approached the door. It had scratches lining the dark wood, causing the structure to appear ancient, much like the stone bench behind him, and there was no doorknob. In fact, there did not seem to be any way to open the door; it looked like it was just part of the wall.

Before Lucius was able to mutter another curse, however, the door swung inward to reveal a dark hall beyond. He stared into the darkness for a moment before a bright beam of light came to life at the far end of the tunnel, causing the Slytherin to shield his gaze. Once the light had dimmed, however, Lucius opened his eyes to see that the far light shone just bright enough for him to see by as he entered the unknown hall, walking towards the beam of light all the way.

Lucius had been walking towards the single light for over half an hour before he finally reached his destination. The sight that met the Slytherin's grey eyes, however, was not what he had expected in the least. For, standing only a couple metres in front of him, her form lit up by the beam of light, stood the plump Head of Hufflepuff House: Professor Pomona Sprout.

What in the name of Merlin is going on? Lucius thought as he approached the professor of his least favourite subject at Hogwarts.

"Explain yourself, Lucius Malfoy," said Sprout, her hands folded in front of her as she spoke. The kind Herbology teacher's robes were covered in dirt, and Lucius scowled slightly as he saw them. But the scowl was swiped off of his pale face within a split second, to be replaced by a calm and curious look from the Slytherin.

"I'm sorry, Professor Sprout," he said, "but I am afraid that I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about. Explain what, might I ask?"

Pomona Sprout just glared into Lucius's eyes, as if she could discern whether he was being truthful with her or not. Inside, the Death Eater just smirked. There was no way this idiotic woman knew Legilimency.

"Miss Umbridge has just informed me of your prank on her," said Sprout, but when Lucius made no acknowledgement that he understood the teacher, she continued. "She told me of the potion that you poured into her drink . . . the one that made her croak like a toad every time she opens her mouth."

Lucius kept his pale face looking impassive, but he was smirking inside. The idea had been his; he had even talked about it down in the Slytherin dormitories afterwards. But there was no way that he would be taking the fall for the joke. He would just have to come up with someone to be the scapegoat. And as Sprout stood waiting for an answer, Lucius allowed his mind to go back to the day that he had gone to Umbridge, the potion vial in his pocket.

----

The seventeen-year-old Slytherin strolled through the stone corridors of the school, heading towards the classroom where Umbridge had said she would be. She already looks like a toad, anyway, he thought as he fingered the small potion vial in his pocket, a traditional Malfoy smirk on his face. Now she will just sound like one, as well.

No one else was wondering along the corridors; it was a completely deserted area of the school for now. There would not be anyone questioning his presence, and even if there was, he already had his story. In his other pocket resided his copy of an essay that Umbridge had wanted some help with, so all he had to say was that he had to talk with her about it.

As he approached his destination -- the wooden door at the end of the corridor -- it swung open into the hall suddenly. Lucius ducked out of the main hall and into the shadowed entrance of another adjoining corridor. Though he had a story, he would prefer not to have to use it, after all. He watched from his hiding spot as a student left the classroom, quietly and stealthily shutting the door behind him as he did so. The boy walked back down the seemingly empty corridor, passing Lucius without any thought.

Lucius smirked as he watched the boy leave. It had been a first-year Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor, but his girlfriend's own cousin -- Black. Now what is his name? he thought as he headed towards the far door. Regulus? No, that's the other one. . . . Sirius! That's the one! his mind exclaimed upon finding the answer.

The seventeen-year-old Slytherin cautiously opened the door to find the room beyond exactly like the hall -- deserted. A smirk still on his pale face, he came to a table, on top of which was a fresh cup of steaming hot tea. It looked like it had just been poured, though had not been touched since. As he withdrew the potion vial from his pocket, Lucius heard voices coming from the room adjoined to this one. Umbridge's annoying voice drifted towards Lucius, who, not wanting to waste another moment, dumped the vial's contents into the tea and left the classroom.

He walked back down the corridor and was able to get back around the corner and out of sight before he was seen. Smirking, the Malfoy heir entered the Slytherin dungeons. He was in the clear.

----

Or so I had thought, Lucius thought as he looked back up at Professor Sprout, who still stood before him awaiting an answer.

"Professor Sprout," he said in his most innocent and charming voice, "I have no idea what you are referring to. I have not seen Umbridge in a week."

"You were seen, Mr. Malfoy, leaving the corridor where her stuff was the night that her drink was tampered with," said Professor Sprout. "Miss Umbridge also told me that you were supposed to be helping her with a project in that very classroom. Are you trying to tell me those reports are mistaken?"

Lucius inwardly smiled at how easy the Hufflepuff woman was making this for him. "No, Professor. I was in the hall, but I never entered the classroom. I had gone down to help her with a Potions essay that she had asked me about, but when my knocks were not responded to, I left and went back to my common room."

Sprout still looked doubtful at his story. Losing patience, and with a slight hint of anger in his tone, Lucius continued. "There are students who will corroborate my story, Professor, if you need any more evidence." The Herbology teacher opened her mouth to respond, but Lucius got in first. "I did see Sirius Black leaving that particular classroom before I arrived, now that I think about it. Perhaps he might have seen something else that I did not?"

That was just too easy, the Slytherin thought to himself as he watched Sprout think over the new information. It was already well-known by the majority of the school that Gryffindor House held a group of first-year pranksters, a group which Black was known to be a leader of. I guess I should probably be thankful Narcissa has a blood-traitor for a cousin, thought Lucius as he looked at Professor Sprout, hoping that she would let him go now.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," she said, though she seemed almost reluctant as she spoke. "You can go."

"Thank you, Professor," he said, giving her a charming smile as he stepped past her. Turning around, Lucius added, "I am sorry that I could not be of more help, though."

The professor nodded as Lucius continued on, all the time thinking that his prank had turned out even better than he had originally thought it would. Not only did the whole croaking toad thing with Umbridge work out, but he was also able to get a blood-traitor Gryffindor in trouble as well.

If felt good to be a Slytherin, after all.

Upon leaving the presence of the Hufflepuff Herbology professor, Lucius continued on his trek down the seemingly never-ending dirt pathway. His patience had, by now, been completely diminished. There were splotches of dirt on his previously spotless and elegant black robes, and beads of sweat were lining his forehead. The young Slytherin had no idea precisely how long he had been travelling through this god-forsaken shrubbery, but he did know that it had to have been at least several hours.

He had pocketed his wand by now, for he had not yet encountered anything that required the use of the magical instrument, and he had grown tired of holding it. Lucius was also growing exhausted due to the lack of sleep. First the initiation and then this stupid maze, he thought to himself as rubbed his eyes and massaged his neck. The enticing sound and promise of glory was, by now anyways, starting to lose its shine and grow a little dim. This is just too ridiculous, the Death Eater thought.

Finally, he came to the end of his current walkway, loose rocks and fallen twigs crunching under his booted feet as he walked. Standing in front of the Malfoy heir stood a massive door, a door that was almost twice the size of those that led to the Great Hall. It was coloured a black as dark as the midnight sky; it was surrounded by a bright, glimmering golden trim, and located right in front of Lucius's pale face was a gleaming, round silver doorknob. The doorknob sparkled brightly, almost making it appear like it had been made from diamonds. It's about time, the Slytherin thought as, with a smirk in place, he reached out a hand to grasp the handle and gave the knob a quick turn . . . But it did not move. The door would not open.

"What the --" the Death Eater muttered as he tried to open the door once again, only to discover that, like before, the knob refused to turn. A split second later, Lucius had his wand out and pointed direct at the large black door. He sent several spells and charms at the structure, including both the simple Alohomora and numerous other Dark spells, none of which made any difference as far as the door was concerned. It remained steadfastly shut.

"The hell with this," said Lucius as he turned away from the door. He pointed his wand at the shrubbery wall to his right, intending just to blast straight through, when the faint voice that he had heard several other times throughout the night returned.

"I would not do that if I were you, Lucius," it hissed, causing the young Slytherin to jerk around. There was, like all of the other times that the voice had spoken, no one around. But by now, the Malfoy heir had had enough.

"Who are you?" he yelled out. "What, in Merlin's name, do you want from me?" No voice answered the Slytherin at first, but a response came soon enough.

"I wanted you to play," the voice responded, and this time, Lucius saw to whom -- or more correctly, to what -- the faint and frail voice belonged to. When the voice had spoken, a bright light lit up in front of Lucius, causing him to turn away for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the sudden change from the pitch darkness of before. Once his sight had adjusted, however, the Slytherin could make out the figure standing only a few feet in front of him.

At first, Lucius thought he was staring at a Dementor. The figure stood towering over him, its height at around eight or nine feet. Flowing and tattered black robes ripped around the figure, though there was not any wind to create the eerie effect. A heavy, thick smoke swirled around him, creating a slightly frightening appearance. The figure's face was obscured by a large black hood, and only a pair of glowing white eyes shone out from the hood's dark depths. Lucius gave a slight swallow as he gripped his wand in his robe pocket. He was prepared, but not fearful.

"Who are you?" he asked once again, his voice calm and not displaying any negative or fearful emotion. "Are you the one who is doing all of this?" he said, waving his hand around to point at the vast maze walls that surrounded him and the dark figure standing in front of him.

The figure inclined his head forward in a nod. "Yes," it said, its voice frail and slightly raspy. "This is my maze . . . I wanted you to come." It reached out a hand to point at the maze walls, and for a brief moment, Lucius was sure that he would see the skeletal and bony hand of a Dementor, but he did not. Instead, the dark figure's hand was wrapped in a black leather glove, the only odd thing being the length of his fingers; they were about twice the size of an average person's.

What the hell is going on? Lucius thought as he stared at the figure's gloved hand. His mind on other things, he almost missed it when the figure spoke again.

"--Is true. You are drawn to power," it said. "You have a want towards glory, which is what brought you to my maze. You are ambitious, cunning, manipulative, and powerful . . . a dangerous combination . . . a very dangerous combination."

"I don't know what you're --"

"Of course you do, Lucius," the voice continued, and as it spoke, the left sleeve of Lucius's robe slowly started to rise, exposing the gleaming red Dark Mark beneath. The Slytherin glanced down at his arm, and the snake's eyes connected with his, each seeing and sensing a hidden darkness within the other. "You have always known."

Lucius tore his grey eyes from the Mark and shoved his sleeve back down, covering the gleaming snake and skull once again. His tone calm and his expression stoic, he turned his pale face towards the towering dark figure, his cold eyes showing the maliciousness that his facial expression hid. "What is it that you want?" he asked. "Why do you have this maze? Why did you want me to come?"

The figure grinned, exposing shining white fangs as he did so. "I sent out many invites to my maze, Malfoy," it responded. "You came for the glory, others came for their own reasons. But they all came."

Shutting his eyes, Lucius exhaled a breath, trying desperately to maintain his composure. The figure was really beginning to try on his already diminished patience, and several particularly unpleasant Dark curses were coming to the young Death Eater's mind at the moment. When the figure did not continue, Lucius withdrew his wand at a lightning speed and pointed its tip towards the figure.

"Answer me right now," he hissed, his tone of voice deathly quiet and calm, making the threat extremely clear.

A laugh was the only answer that the figure gave to the young Slytherin before it disappeared in a whoosh of smoke. "You will see," it said as it vanished from sight, Lucius's Unforgivable Curse hitting nothing but air. "You will know."

"Damn!" exclaimed the Death Eater as he hurled an Avada Kedavra curse out of frustration. The curse struck the hedge wall that had stood behind the figure. Its bright green light lit up the whole area of the tunnel, but it also illuminated another object that stood on the ground, in the exact same spot that the figure had towered only a few seconds ago. Lucius approached the spot and knelt down next to the object.

It was a chalice, the same kind of chalice that had been located on the seal of the letter that the owl had delivered to Lucius that morning at breakfast. It was bright silver in colour, and ancient runes lined the rim of the cup. Directly on the front of the chalice was engraved a large, blood-red rose, thorny vines coming from it to make their way down the handle of the elegant cup. The blond-haired wizard cautiously reached out a hand to touch the chalice, but no sooner had the tips of his fingers grazed the edges did a tongue of bright orange fire spring to life from inside the cup, causing the seventeen-year-old Slytherin to jerk his hand back quickly.

"Now you answer me," roared a voice that reverberated around the tunnel. It was not the same raspy voice of the figure before, and Lucius had his wand out and pointed at the cup within a split second of hearing the voice. But there was no need for the caution. No harmful entities had issued forth from the depths of the chalice, only a single piece of paper, which now lay at Lucius's feet. Reaching down, the wizard grasped the parchment in his hand and read the four lines of writing on the crinkled parchment.

People like me turns lead to gold,

Mystic cures, my craft unfold.

I start nowhere and end well,

My name is an easy one to tell.

"A riddle?" whispered the Slytherin as he read the writing once again. "That's what he wanted? For me to answer a riddle?" Lucius scanned his grey eyes over the four lines of text for a third time, but no obvious answer was jumping into his mind.

"'People like me turns lead to gold,'" he mumbled, his brain searching desperately for a solution. That sounds like a Philosopher's Stone, he thought, which would lead to thinking about alchemy and, therefore, an alchemist. "'Mystic cures, my craft unfold." Well, alchemy could be considered a craft, and the Philosopher's Stone is believed to produce the Elixir of Life, which could easily be considered a "mystic cure" to death. "'I start nowhere and end well, my name is an easy one to tell.'" And those two lines make absolutely no sense at all, thought Lucius as his mind continued its hunt for an answer to the riddle. Unless, the answer isn't supposed to be directly related to alchemy, but the first two lines are instead meant to be like some sort of symbolism. "Lead to gold" would be like turning something plain or bad into something grand and good, whereas "mystic cures" would be like creating something --

"I don't know!" exclaimed Lucius as he threw a stone at the chalice in frustration. The stone merely bounced off of the elegant cup, not even creating any sort of damage as it did so. Lucius sighed in a combination of exhaustion after two nights of little sleep, anger with going through all of this bizarre madness, and frustration at basically everything else.

"Do you have an answer yet?" whispered the raspy voice and, turning around, Lucius locked his grey gaze with the bright white eyes of the dark figure from before. "To my riddle, I mean?"

"No," he muttered. "I don't have the answer to that stupid riddle, and basically, I don't care about it. . . . I'm leaving." And with that, Lucius made to walk past the figure, but the dark presence would not let him. With a wave of its gloved hand, it sent the young Slytherin falling to the ground.

"You cannot leave, Malfoy," it whispered, "until you have given me an answer to the riddle."

Lucius glared at the towering dark figure in front of him, hatred and anger coursing through his veins. "Fine," he said, pulling himself up from the ground and dusting the dirt off of his robes as he did so. "You want an answer to your worthless riddle? I'll give an answer . . . alchemist. Okay? My answer is alchemist, or alchemy, or whatever you want it to be in relation to that."

The tall, dark figure grinned for the second time that night, exposing those unnerving bright white fangs. "No, that's the wrong answer, Malfoy. . . . You lose."

Lucius did not have another chance to say anything after the figure spoke. He had just opened his mouth to respond when the figure disappeared in a whirl of black smoke, just like it had done before. But that was not all that happened. After the smoke had cleared, a blinding white light fell upon the tunnel, sending Lucius and his surroundings from pitch darkness to being encompassed by light that was as bright as ten suns put together. Lucius yelled in pain as the light assaulted his eyes, and he felt his wand slip from his grasp as he hurried to shield his gaze.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the light left, and the tunnel was plunged into deep darkness once again. The sudden change of light caused the Slytherin to stumble forward and fall to the ground. All he could see was the thick blackness that surrounded him, that is, until another figure came floating through the wall in front of him.

"You lose, Lucius," it muttered as it approached the wizard. "Ambition, cunning, manipulation, and power do not always succeed like you think." As the figure spoke, Lucius's left sleeve started to rise once again, and the Dark Mark glowed red on the pale skin as the sleeve rose. "A dangerous combination . . . You have a dangerous combination."

And with that, the figure disappeared in a puff of bright green smoke that assaulted the Slytherin. Lucius began coughing as he struggled to breathe through the fumes, but the more he coughed, the worse he became. The last sounds that the young wizard heard were himself coughing and struggling for air and a raspy voice exclaiming, "You lose," over and over again before he blacked out and knew no more.

When Lucius awoke, he found himself lying in a warm bed and covered with clean white sheets. Opening his eyes, he took in the surroundings of the hospital wing. The room was filled with the bright morning sunlight that was shining through the large glass windows, streaming across the rows and rows of white hospital beds. He looked down at his hands, both of which were wrapped in bandages, along with his left wrist.

The young Slytherin pushed himself up in the bed at the same time that the double doors to the hospital wing opened to reveal Narcissa, her Transfiguration book clutched in her pale hands. She approached Lucius's bed and sat in the empty seat next to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as she sat down. His voice was slightly hoarse, and he reached for the glass of water that was currently sitting on his bedside table.

"I came to see you," she whispered. "You didn't come back last night after leaving the common room, and then Professor Slughorn found you just lying in the fourth floor corridor. He brought you here as soon as he found you. . . . Where did you go, Lucius?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly frightened as she spoke. "What happened?"

Lucius was not given a chance to answer because the moment that he opened his mouth to respond to his girlfriend's questions, another voice spoke.

"That is precisely what I would like to know, Mr. Malfoy," said Albus Dumbledore, who stood at the foot of Lucius's bed and was looking down at the Slytherin through his half-moon glasses, a slightly curious smile on his wrinkled face. "You should go to class, Miss Black," the headmaster said as he turned to face Narcissa. "You can visit Mr. Malfoy later."

Narcissa did not argue with Dumbledore. Instead, she simply nodded and stood from her chair, telling Lucius a brief goodbye as she left the hospital wing. Dumbledore watched her leave and as soon as the doors had shut behind her, he turned his attention back towards the seventeen-year-old Slytherin in the hospital bed before him.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," he began as he surveyed the young wizard, "Professor Slughorn told me that you were unconscious in the fourth floor corridor when he found you. Miss Black asked some rather interesting questions concerning your whereabouts. Do you wish to tell me anything about that?"

Lucius simply glared back at the old wizard in front of him. He was burning with disgust at the headmaster, though the Slytherin's expressions and voice displayed none of those emotions. "No, sir," he said, his voice calm and facial expression stoic.

"I see," responded Dumbledore, nodding his white-haired head. "Is there any particular reason why you felt the need to walk around the corridor last night?"

"I needed to take a walk," answered Lucius as he gazed intently at the headmaster. "There were some things that I wanted to think about, and I needed somewhere quiet to do so." Silence reigned throughout the room after the Slytherin finished his reply. Dumbledore, however, did not speak right away. It was almost as though he was hoping for more information. More information, however, was not something that Lucius was going to offer freely.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy," said the headmaster, "is there anything else that you would like to tell me? Like where you really went last night and the night before, for instance?"

"Last night, I went for a walk, Professor," said Lucius, "and the night before, I was here at school. Other than that, no, there's nothing more I have to say . . . Professor Dumbledore," he added as an afterthought.

Dumbledore just continued looking at Lucius with his bright blue eyes, almost like he was trying to assess the Slytherin. It was apparent to the young Death Eater that the headmaster knew something. Lucius could tell that Dumbledore had his suspicions about him, but it did not matter. The headmaster did not have any proof to tie the seventeen-year-old Slytherin to any wrongdoing. And in a few months time, it would not even matter. Lucius would be graduating, and there was nothing that Dumbledore could do to stop him.

"Very well, Lucius," whispered Dumbledore as he turned away from the hospital bed and began walking towards the exit. "I'll let Madame Pomfrey know that you're awake." And with that, the headmaster left the hospital wing, leaving the young Slytherin to think over everything that had happened to him in the past 48 hours.

~**~

Author's Note: This one-shot includes my drabbles for the first four prompts of the Gauntlet writing maze. It truly was a very interesting challenge, and if real life hadn't interfered like it did, I would have loved to go further. Unfortunately, that wasn't to be. This is also the first time I've ever written a young Lucius, and I haven't even written him as an adult very often, and to be honest, it was quite a challenge trying to get into his head. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!

~Megan