Thus Angels Fall

Thus Angels Fall

Lucius Malfoy had an angelic bearing, Grandmother Anastasia always said. Of course, being a half-Veela, she had a quite interesting definition of "angelic". Lucius had always used his looks as a means to achieve something, all the while keeping up the "innocent" façade. His white-blond hair was left seemingly unstyled, cascading down to the small of his back, but charmed to always look well-groomed. His icy grey eyes made even the most hardened anti-Slytherin Muggle-borns swoon. His lean figure was always covered by the finest silks money could buy, his posture always suggested his superiority above others and a detachment from anyone who wasn't Slytherin and pureblood. He was a model boy in many ways: he was smart, has never been caught breaking any rules, the returning to Hogwarts as Head Boy. He was charming, rich, dating the most beautiful girl in his year. Craving dark knowledge was a part of him few knew of but his closest circle. Outwards, he was as innocent as a lamb. Angelic.

Lucius had everything needed to be great in his pocket. ? The soon-to-be-seventh-year Slytherin boy looked around, a bit nervous, trying to look cold and aloof none the less. When Gianfranco Zabini had talked to him about this place Lucius had imagined it differently. The entrance was a small tinted glass door in the shape of a triangle, set right at the end of a small, dead-end street just south of Knockturn Alley. The name, written in big antique-golden gothic letters above it, read "Ynitsed Shoppe", just as Zabini described.

<>As he stepped inside, however, instead of the regal black and white marble hall he expected, he saw great grey and musty-brown draperies hung from the walls and ceiling, covering part of the dusty old shelves full of every kind of rubbish that filled the small shop, where the faint smell of rose petals and decay seemed to hang upon everything. Darker still hung the shadows in the farthest part of the place, where a wall covered with a greying, old velvet curtain shrouded a grey brick wall from the onlookers' sight. Nearer were shelves upon shelves full of old dolls and boxes, odd-looking bears and small, shiny things, a pile of lucky coins or two on several of them, a load of moth-eaten books with covers in unreadable languages, canes, lamps, empty and full bottles of the strangest shapes and colours, and even several shelves full of Muggle electronics. The boy snorted at those. No decent wizarding shopkeeper should keep those things. Every day more pure, old families' blood gets diluted by Muggles and Mudbloods. He could go on for hours, repeating every word his father said, except that where Vladimir spoke with grief, Lucius spoke with malice. It is their fault - people like Potter and Black - purebloods always chasing goddamn Mudbloods!

"No proper wizarding pride," he murmured in a low, biting tone when he noticed that a door opened behind one of the draperies moments before a wrinkled, very old-looking, little wizard with messy white hair and dusty dark grey robes came out of it, adjusting his dark spectacles.

He regarded the youngster with a strange look, pushing the round sunglasses up his wrinkled, big nose, then nodded and looked in the boy's eyes, though his stayed invisible.

"You can enter here only once, did they tell you that?" The old man's voice was harsh and at the same time somehow enticing. Lucius stopped looking around. "You get to choose just once." The little wizard eyed him from his position half in the shadows. The dashing Malfoy heir regarded him carefully, not really sure how to react at those words. The Slytherin raised an exquisite brow in the classical Malfoy questioning look.

Zabini didn't say anything about choosing once. Lucius pondered the possibilities. "He can sell you greatness, I say," Zabini recounted. Lucius straightened and looked the shopkeeper, adjusting his dark green and grey tie, the only flash of color on his midnight robes.

"But I am being impolite," the other wizard cackled. "Let me introduce myself. I am Raphael of Ynitsed, I run this little shop right now." He extended his hand in a friendly manner towards the Malfoy heir.

Lucius arched one eyebrow suspiciously, searching his memory for the name, but it was unknown to him, so he just nodded curtly, introducing himself at the same time.

"I am Lucius Malfoy, son of Lord Vladimir of the ancient and noble House of Malfoy." He used the old formula, like many of the old wizarding blood did.

"Appealing name, Mr. Malfoy," the old man said, cackling to himself as for a private joke. "I used to wear one very similar. But times change and new paths are needed."

"My friend has spoken of marvellous things in here." The boy tried not to sound too confused, nor interested, but his expectations shone through his voice just as hints of hesitation. "He told me you sell spectacular things."

The old wizard regarded him carefully. He nodded, immersed in his thoughts for a moment, then adjusted his sunglasses again.

"So it happens. Has your friend explained you the rules and the price, too?" His voice croaked, almost amused. Lucius folded his arms in front of himself.

"He forgot to mention that particular part," he said, sounding almost disgusted. He went only mentioned how he will marry that Welsh witch he's been seeing this summer, the his family's fortune returns thanks to a trinket he got in this shop, he thought not without contempt. "But he did tell me your price is quite curious."

"I am going to request your actual wand," Raphael said simply "It is the only payment I accept." He smiled cordially then looked up at the boy and cocked his head a bit to the side. "Great things require great sacrifice."

Lucius was taken aback. So that's why he had a new wand, to boot. I'll skin that idiot. He touched the handle of his precious magic wand, made by a wizarding craftsman some two hundred years ago in China. His father had given it to him on his eleventh birthday. It has been the first wand for every Malfoy for many generations, and the boy knew that when he had a son, this should become his, much like the Malfoy name the child would wear.

"Why don't you ponder the price after having a look at my merchandise?" The other wizard seemed accustomed at this type of behaviour, for he flashed an almost-toothless, all-knowing smile. "Follow me. Sometimes a new destiny needs a new wand anyway, doesn't it?" With this, Raphael turned his back on the young Malfoy, and slowly walked to one of the shelves. It was then the boy heard the voice.

Luciusss...

His feet stopped mid-step. He listened. Somebody was calling his name. Somebody from the shadows. He held back his breath to listen more carefully, eager to get to know where the voice came from.

"So, Mr. Malfoy?" The old man put down a few baubles on a small, round table. He rummaged through the small pile, then offered almost immediately the boy an elaborate silver ring. "You could marry a beautiful girl with long black hair and a green snake on her robes." He sniffed, looking at the ring. "Her blood is pure, her lineage old; she's very beautiful, rich, and will give you many sons. A new dynasty..."

Come to usss...

Lucius scoffed half-heartedly, hunting traces of the voice that spoke his name in such an enticing way. The whispers came again as soon as old Mr. Ynitsed turned his back on the boy and began searching another pile of shining things, shaking his head at the tingling of the lucky coins he managed to throw aside while searching for something particular.

Luciusss... come to usss...

The young Slytherin took a step towards the backside of the shop, this time consciously following the voices. The old wizard stepped forth, a pair of worn Quidditch gloves in hand, stopping before he could start to outline the Quidditch champion's life. He regarded the boy carefully again, his tense, young body turned towards the end of the shop, his silvery brows drawn slightly together in concentration, arms on his sides, hands in loose fists. Listening.

"There is nothing for young boys in there," the bespectacled man said dryly, taking in hand an elaborate mahogany and gold walking cane from one of the bins. "A career in business would interest you, perhaps? Or maybe..." he took out another cane, with a fist-sized, decorated glowing ruby on top. "... a talent in carving magically enhanced stones?"

"What is kept back there?" Lucius didn't move his eyes from the dark recesses of the shop, where a large curtain slightly moved as for a slight breeze. "Seeing that I can come in only once, I want to see all my possibilities. Not everybody hears the call to greatness, you know." The Slytherin glanced towards the shopkeeper, then back at the curtain, an eager look on his face. He waited, impatient.

Luciusss...

"You do have a point, my young friend." The other wizard sighed thoughtfully, kept quite a long silence before shrugging, and slowly stepping towards the great curtain. He stopped only to put down the gloves on a nearby table. Lucius followed instantly. As they passed the shelves the boy looked absent-mindedly at pile upon pile of the weirdest things: wooden Omnioculars, strange machines, eggs the size of a man's head, cages with things in it sleeping or dead, and the occasional robe or gown thrown on a chair.

As they reached the curtain, it simply stood aside automatically, revealing a narrow door made of solid oak with iron ornamentation. Raphael reached into his pocket and took out a tiny iron key with painful slowness. He inserted it in the lock that gave way with a rusty click.

"It has been many years since I had last come in here, you know," the old wizard chattered while extracting the key and pushing the door open for Lucius "Almost twenty-seven years, now that I think of it. Now step in."

"What is this supposed to mean?" The boy paled visibly at the sight before him. He was surrounded by a rather large, circular room full of doors with torches lined up and burning on the wall between them. There was no doorknob or lock on them, but each had a hole, small window or spyglass on them to look inside, and this was the only common thing each had with the others. Each door was made from a different material, in different shape and size. The young Malfoy heir regarded each one carefully. To his astonishment, one of the doors, yellow wood with a gap in the middle, suddenly burst into flame and by the time the flames died down, a milk-glass door stood in its place.

"Choose one, but choose wisely," the wizened wizard almost whispered. "You cannot go back, after you have chosen."

"How do I choose?" Lucius continued observing the doors with a rapt face.

"You go and look around," the old man said simply, showing a simple silver handle to the young Slytherin. "If you are ready, I'll give this to you to open it."

Lucius stepped closer to the first door, which was made of the purest white-gold. A small crystal in eye-height caught his interest. Careful not to touch the door, he looked into the crystal and beyond.

He saw himself seated on a comfortable couch, in a warm house and a merrily flashing fire, an arm around the beautiful woman with flaming red hair sitting beside him, the other hand intertwined with a bundle of blue cloth in her lap. Together they were speaking to a small baby clad in the bundle, when suddenly the door erupted and black-clad figures ran into the room, crashing everything in their way. The father-Lucius drew his wand, while the woman ran up to the stairs with her baby in her arms. Lucius took a step backwards when green flames erupted behind the door, causing his vision to blur.

"Who would want this?" The boy looked, a tad shocked, towards the other wizard. "That looked like a quite huge amount of Killing Curses."

"None yet," Raphael said enigmatically. "But I expect somebody will take it, sooner or later. ... Now, why don't you look for the next?"

The Slytherin boy turned to the next door, which was clearly made of dragon scales and had golden lining. He regarded it for a while, then took a glance through the small dragon's-head-shaped knocker on the door. He smiled, amused, as a white-clad nobleman with his face, bearing a knight's banner, brandishing a white wand, appeared in a lush forest where an enormous and evil-looking old Hungarian Horntail was descending. Lucius laughed unpleasantly. Now seriously, a knight in shining armour? honestly...

He laughed, and disregarded the next one, a door made of solid rock painted with white stripes and figurines of stylized people, with a small hole in the middle.

He stopped at the fourth door, which was made of wood covered with black velvet cushions, embroidered with silver roses. He stopped for a while, observing through the small spyglass the sensual lovemaking of two vampires amidst the ruins of an Italian villa, with human bodies lying around, bled dry. The Lucius-vampire hungrily bit the neck of the white-skinned, black-haired, royal Vampire Queen in his arms, while she cut his wrist with an antique knife. She then drank his blood and seemed lost amidst a swirl of darkness, lust and blood. They were One.

Lucius thought silently for a moment, weighing his possibilities. Vampires don't go around during the day, but they do not grow old and die, either... when he heard the voice anew, this time from directly behind his back.

Luciusss... Luciusssss... ? The boy turned abruptly. He stood facing a slightly elongated door made of some strange, dark green material, myriad small dots reflecting the light of the torches, with a black skull in the middle. As he stepped closer to look at it, he noticed the material looked like small scales, the white dots being the reflection of the torches on the tiny mounds. The whole door was made of serpent-skin. The skull on it was made of a dark metal, the orbs vacant, and the bare teeth giving the impression it was laughing.

As Lucius watched the scene through the skull's eyes, his heart made a leap. There he was, standing in the middle of the biggest storm he had ever seen, wand in hand, laughing. He seemed not much older and very, very powerful as he grabbed a serpent-head cane and laughed his triumph to the universe. The young boy stepped closer, touching the door with his hands, observing the other himself. So powerful... So potent, prevailing over everyone... Around him people lay, and he knew that all who defied him would one day pay for their insolence. He observed, fascinated, as a shadow deeper than any other he'd ever seen fell on his older-self, revealing a skull and a snake tattooed on his left forearm.... It seemed the very core of the power elder Lucius wielded. The boy watched as his future-self grabbed the shadow and clad himself with it, raising his wand in the air and releasing a cloud of smoke mirroring his tattoo's shape. Lucius' thoughts ran wildly in his head. He was mesmerized, rapt by his own possible future, wide-eyed with awe. After several minutes passed, Mr. Ynitsed coughed discreetly.

"I suppose you've made your choice." The old man's voice had an almost happy tinge to it. "I sold a diamond-and-pearls wedding cloak to a beautiful blonde girl yesterday, you know?" the old wizard mused aloud. "Are you sure you don't prefer the ring?"

"Yes." The boy's voice was impatient; he couldn't bear to tear himself away from the vision of immense power before him. "Now give me that thing!" he demanded.

"And are you ready to pay the price?" the other wizard inquired, infinitely amused by the reckless tone in the Slytherin's voice.

As an answer Lucius extended his hand towards the small wizard, and dropped his wand without a second glance in the wizened hands, not taking away his eyes from the vision through the skull's orbs for a minute. The old man sighed, and put away the polished mahogany rod in one of his pockets. He fumbled a bit, then gave the boy the silver handle. With one swift motion, Lucius attached it to the door, and stormed through it, closing his eyes.

He felt the energy surge around him, wrapping him into a blanket of power. Everything was so dark and welcoming, calling, alluring, reaching to his deepest self, that the boy could do nothing but let it wrap itself around him and slowly pass through his physical body. It passed trough flesh to his soul. Lucius gasped as the energy reached his core, the inner part of his being. It nestled itself in a pit just above his stomach, on his solar plexus, and started spreading trough all his body. The power cursing through his veins made the boy cry out both in pleasure and pain, and he fell to all fours, panting. As his breathing slowed, he slowly opened his eyes.

The Slytherin looked around, startled. He was on all fours before a wall in a cul-de-sac in Knockturn Alley, the stone pavement cold under his hands. Lucius cursed under his breath and stood up, dusting his until today impeccable clothes. Had it all been a dream? Had he imagined things? With a sudden urge, he checked his wand, but found it nowhere. Maybe it wasn't a dream after all. He looked around, but saw no glass door on the small cul-de-sac, nor golden letters proclaiming the whereabouts of any strange shop. Lucius turned on his heels without a second thought.

First, Ollivander's, he thought. Then, maybe I will pass to Borgin and Burkes. I always thought a cane would be appropriate for my image. His face contorted into a smirk.

He almost genuinely smiled, when the next day Zabini told him of his unexpected inheritance. Things were setting into motion.

**********

Somewhere, in an old shop, a small door opened, and as the old wizard looked around, he saw a mirror image of himself, without the sunglasses, sightless white eyes staring into nothingness. The wizard with the glasses took them off, and stepped to his twin, duly transforming back into a lean young man with long, pitch black hair and dark red robes. His crimson eyes glinted with mischief. The old man put on his glasses, then smiled up to the other.

"I'm back." He stated the obvious tiredly

"Was it a faux call?" the young man inquired politely

"Yes, it seems your boss is still quiet." The old man frowned. "Two false alarms in not even thirty years... I wonder what you are planning this time."

"We agreed." The lad raised his eyebrows

"You're right, no politics." The wizard sighed. "Thanks for keeping the place running while I was gone, Azazel. Sold anything?"

"Just a trinket to a boy." He offered the wand to the wizard, who took it with a nod and put it on his shelf in a box marked -1968.08.30.-, among many others with dates and times of years gone by.

"You can go now, if you got things to do. I'll be waiting for you at the usual place on Monday, at tea time." The wizened man looked back at the youngster "Thanks again for the help."

"For old times sake? Any time, Raphael." The other disappeared in a wisp of crimson smoke, but a snippet of his voice lingered on. "Any time." Raphael didn't have the time for thinking about the other's words for too long; he had work to do. A bell rang and a young boy with a red T-shirt and messy black hair stepped into the shop.

-End-