A Stifling Beginning Part 2
Chapter 8: A Stifling Beginning – Part 2
2 Years Ago…
Fourteen-year-old Lucius Malfoy suppressed a weary sigh as he slid the book back onto the shelf, its weight barely making a sound as it settled into place.
Earlier that day, his father, ever the business-minded aristocrat, had dragged him along for what was supposed to be a routine transaction at Borgin and Burkes. Lucius had been instructed to wait near the front desk while his father and Mr. Burke retreated behind closed doors to negotiate their private dealings.
However, as the minutes turned into an hour, Lucius grew restless. He had already skimmed through several interesting artifacts and a few dusty old books but found himself yearning for something more to occupy his mind. The dimming light outside caught his attention, and when he glanced toward the window, all he could make out through the blurry glass were the grey cobblestones and the looming silhouette of the building across the street. It was dusk, and the world outside was becoming indistinct in the fading light.
Just as he was about to return to the task of leafing through another book, something unusual caught his eye. There was a flicker of movement—a figure, just a blur at first, darting through the shadows. Lucius squinted, focusing on the space outside the window.
A child?
He could just barely make out the silhouette of a small figure, moving quietly, effortlessly blending with the darkened corners of Knockturn Alley. It wasn’t a cat or some stray animal—it was definitely a human child, dressed in strange foreign robes, who seemed to be tailing two men in long cloaks. They were so adept at staying hidden that Lucius could hardly make them out at all—just flashes of movement, merging with the shadows as they disappeared from his line of sight.
How curious.
Lucius couldn’t tear his eyes away, intrigued by the boy’s silent pursuit. The child was clearly following the two men. For what, he wasn’t sure. There was something off about this situation.
A faint thrill of curiosity tugged at him. He knew his father would not approve of him wandering into such a place, but something about the situation felt too strange to ignore. What was the child up to?
His Slytherin side told him to remain where he was, to wait, and to follow his father's wishes. Yet, another part of him—the part of him that thrived on uncovering secrets and perhaps a tad too bored—urged him to act. The alleyway outside beckoned, dark and mysterious, full of unanswered questions. Perhaps, if he followed just for a little while, he could uncover something valuable—information, or maybe something to report back to his father.
With a quick glance toward the back of the shop where his father and Mr. Burke had disappeared, Lucius made his decision. He could hear their low murmurs in the distance, but they wouldn’t notice his absence for a while.
He carefully slipped out of the front door of Borgin and Burkes, closing it quietly behind him. The cool air of Knockturn Alley hit his face as he moved into the shadows, just far enough to stay out of sight. The figure had disappeared from view, but Lucius wasn’t about to give up that easily.
With his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling inside him, Lucius Malfoy crept into the darkness of the alley, determined to find out exactly what this mysterious child was up to.
After walking discreetly toward the direction where the child and the two wizards had gone, Lucius paused as a faint sound caught his attention—low, almost like a murmur, too soft to be noticed by anyone who wasn’t actively listening.
He frowned. It didn’t take long for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.
Lucius stood still, pressing himself into the shadows of the alley as he strained to hear the hushed voices of the two wizards. Their words were a mixture of low murmurs and the occasional clink of glass. The conversation seemed to dance just beyond his reach, but enough snippets reached his ears to make his heart race in a way he wasn’t accustomed to.
"Is it prepared?" one voice asked, rough and gravelly. The other responded with a sneer in his tone.
"Of course. The potion's in the vial. And the book’s binding is intact, just as promised. You should be glad—this is a rare find, a piece of magic that few would dare to tamper with."
Lucius’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the exchange. A potion and a book. The mention of tampering with magic struck him as ominous, but what truly set his heart pounding was the darker energy lingering in the words. He barely noticed when his foot shifted on the cobblestones, making a faint creak—a sound that seemed to echo louder than it should.
"Did you hear that?" The first wizard’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
The second wizard’s breath hitched. "No one’s supposed to be here. This alley is quiet as death." There was a shift in his tone—something defensive, even wary. "Are you sure you heard something?"
Lucius cursed under his breath. He knew he should leave, retreat back to Borgin and Burkes, but his curiosity anchored him where he stood. His mind raced. What were they talking about? What were they dealing in?
But before he could consider his next move, the first wizard’s voice grew sharper.
"I know I heard something. Someone’s listening," he said, his tone now filled with suspicion.
Lucius’s hand instinctively reached for his wand hidden in his sleeve.
That was when the second wizard spoke, his voice thick with disdain. "We’ve been found. No matter. Just stay quiet, and I’ll deal with it." He flicked his wand, and Lucius felt an immediate shift in the air around him—a pressure, a dark hum that made his heart race even faster.
The wizard stepped forward, his face barely visible beneath the shadows. A flick of his wand illuminated the alley for a split second, a pale glow making his features sharper, more menacing. "Come out now. No more hiding."
Lucius’s mind raced, and his back pressed against the wall to stay in the darkness. He had no illusions about the situation. These were dark wizards, and the conversation he had overheard hinted at something far more sinister than any simple transaction. They were likely dealing in dark magic—perhaps even something tied to something far darker than he could imagine. If they knew he had overheard them, there was no mercy to be expected.
The fear washed over him briefly, and a sickening thought followed: He would be obliviated—wiped of memories, erased as though he never existed. That would be the better option. The alternative was death.
But Lucius had not been raised to cower. His father’s lessons rang in his mind. Always be in control. Never show weakness.
His fingers tightened around his wand, ready to defend himself if necessary.
Before he could make his move, however, the situation took an unexpected turn.
The second wizard raised his wand, his mouth curling into a sinister smile. "You’ll want to come out now. We just want to talk, you see."
He began to mutter an incantation, his wand pulsing with light—a detection spell Lucius realized with a chilling certainty.
It was then that the alley around him seemed to shift, as though the very fabric of reality had bent under some unseen force. The two wizards were suddenly struck from behind, a blur of motion that sent them both sprawling to the cobblestones, unconscious before they even had time to react.
Lucius blinked, his mind struggling to make sense of what he had just witnessed. A small figure stood in the dim light of the alley, holding a wooden sword with the surety and grace of a trained warrior. His silver hair gleamed in the fading light, and his eyes—striking, crimson red—glowed with an intensity that matched the unnatural power still humming in the air, and his Asian facial features evident.
Lucius’s breath caught in his throat. "Who—" he began, his voice shaky.
The boy turned, locking eyes with him for a brief moment, as if weighing his presence. He seemed completely out of place in Knockturn Alley, his appearance an oddity in this grim part of the wizarding world. The boy’s expression softened, and he spoke, his voice bored and relaxed despite the chaos of the moment.
"Oya oya, I thought they heard me," the boy said with a slight accent, “But, I guess it was you.” His gaze went back to the unconscious wizards and then to the vial he casually caught during his earlier assault. He twirled the vial, and in the faint light cast by the dusk, Lucius could see the deep purple liquid swirl. The smaller boy’s lips curled slightly upwards, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he eyed it.
“You’d best get away before they wake up,” murmured the boy, before he looked around the floor and paused a bit before picking up a book.
Lucius, still reeling from the turn of events, didn’t know what to say. Who was this child, and how had he…? He glanced at the two fallen wizards, still sprawled across the cobblestones. His heart was still hammering in his chest, but something inside him told him that this boy was not an enemy.
"I—who are you?" Lucius managed, his words stumbling out.
The boy didn’t answer immediately. He threw the vial and the book into a bag, then turned with a casual wave of his hand, beginning to walk away, his steps light but purposeful. He seemed so calm, so… certain of his path.
“Just a bystander who is doing a good deed for the day, so karma doesn’t get him anymore than it already has,” he said with a dry tone, as a parting farewell.
Lucius stood frozen for a moment longer, still processing what had just happened. His thoughts were a whirlwind, but one thing was clear: This boy, this stranger with silver hair and strange eyes, was not like anyone Lucius had ever encountered. And the encounter left him with more questions than answers.
With a final glance at the unconscious wizards, Lucius turned to follow the boy again. But just as he was about to move, he heard a voice—his father’s voice—approaching, faint but growing louder, tinged with a slight undercurrent of franticness despite his best efforts to suppress it.
Lucius froze, his attention diverted. He quickly looked back, but the boy was already gone, vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.
With a resigned sigh, Lucius turned back in the direction of his father’s voice, the questions swirling in his mind, unanswered.
One thing he was sure – he owed that boy a life debt.
Present… at Slytherin Common Room
Lucius Malfoy stepped into the Slytherin Common Room with a quiet grace, his eyes scanning the room with the casual air of someone used to commanding attention. His platinum blond hair gleamed in the dim light, and his presence seemed to part the crowd as if he were a force of nature, never needing to assert himself. But tonight, his gaze lingered on a particular figure seated by the fire, lazily lounging in an armchair—Gintoki Sakata.
His thoughts went back to their fateful encounter two years ago in Knockturn Alley.
When Lucius’s father, Abraxas Malfoy, had heard of the events that transpired, he had made sure to repay the favor. It took his father various attempts to find Gintoki but eventually he tracked him down at an old inn. He offered Gintoki financial support as a way to repay the life debt. Lucius hadn’t been thrilled about the arrangement at first. A debt was a debt, and at first he was far from pleased about the idea of being indebted to a mysterious child with no known family, no known loyalties. But it was his father’s decision, and Lucius, ever the dutiful son, had swallowed his discomfort and watched as the Malfoy family wealth flowed into whatever cause Gintoki had deemed worthy of his time.
At some point, after various forced and coincidental meetings, he began to know Gintoki and something in him began to see him as a friend – of sorts.
And now, here they were — in the same house.
Although only a few months had passed since their last scheduled meeting, Gintoki had hardly changed. If anything, he had grown a little taller and filled out slightly, his frame now carrying a bit more muscle. His silver hair, as wild and untamed as the first time they'd met, still framed his face with that same air of defiant, careless elegance. His posture remained slouched and indifferent, just as it had been the first time Lucius had seen him in Knockturn Alley, where the boy had nonchalantly waved off Lucius’s gratitude with the flick of his wrist, as though saving his life had been little more than a passing whim.
There was still something behind that casual exterior that Lucius had tried, time and time again, to uncover, but it remained as elusive as ever. Gintoki was a puzzle, one that Lucius hadn’t yet managed to solve, and despite his best efforts, he doubted he ever would.
Lucius couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he looked at the boy. "I see you finally made it here."
Gintoki narrowed his eyes at him, almost as if he could see through him, and Lucius knew the boy understood exactly what he was doing. The subtle display was unmistakable—a reminder to anyone paying attention that Lucius Malfoy had some form of connection to this boy, a mere first-year, and that this boy was under his protection. Not that Gintoki needed it. He never had. But Lucius had never been one to shy away from making sure others knew where his influence extended, even if the boy didn’t seem to care much for it.
The Malfoys, especially his father, had become more invested in him—not just to repay the life debt, but to subtly guide him toward siding with the Dark Lord.
Maybe Gintoki could feel it too, beneath the surface of his indifference and theatrics. Despite his careless attitude, he likely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the Malfoys had their own hidden agenda – not exactly about the Dark Lord himself, however. For this reason, Gintoki kept a wall between them—distant, yet still willing to maintain the connection.
Some – actually, large – part of him doubted Gintoki would ever stray towards their cause completely unlike his father who assumed otherwise. Gintoki was…
Then again… Gintoki may be using father’s plans for him to his own advantage, seeing that he is here.
But before Lucius could continue speaking, Gintoki sat up a bit straighter, suddenly grinning widely, his tone saccharine and overly friendly as he leaned toward Lucius with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Lucius Malfoy himself, gracing us with his presence! What an honor! Truly, the honor is all mine! You don’t happen to have any important affairs that need tending to, do you? I’m just a lowly, humble student here at Hogwarts, not at all worthy of your magnificent presence—” He paused dramatically and clutched his chest, as if overwhelmed by the sheer thought of Lucius’s esteemed company.
His theatrics were over-the-top, the kind of grandiose display he’d use to annoy others. The students who were nearby stared at the scene, unsure of whether they should laugh or feel embarrassed on Lucius’s behalf.
Whether they should laugh or feel embarrassed on Lucius’s behalf, Lucius wasn’t sure. He gave Gintoki a sharp, unimpressed glance, his eyes narrowing slightly at the boy’s antics. But despite the annoyance creeping into his expression, the corner of his mouth twitched with something that resembled amusement, a barely contained smirk.
“I trust that you’ve been well, Sakata,” Lucius drawled, his tone carefully composed. “Since the last time we spoke... you were, shall we say, indisposed… after indulging in something that didn’t quite agree with you.”
The words were carefully chosen, a subtle jab at Gintoki’s less-than-glamorous experience with whatever questionable food had led to his extended time spent in a rather unpleasant situation in his private bathroom. Of course, Lucius didn’t need to say more; the implication was clear enough.
Gintoki’s lips twitched, but he kept grinning, clearly unfazed by Lucius’s pointed remark. Still beaming, he waved it off with an exaggerated flick of his hand, as though the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.
“Oh, that? Please, don’t remind me,” Gintoki said, his voice dripping with mock exasperation. “Just a little misadventure with some, uh, questionable cuisine. You know how it is—food poisoning, really.” He leaned back dramatically, looking as though he was recalling a particularly unfortunate chapter in his life, though his posture betrayed no sign of actual discomfort.
He shot Lucius a sly, almost challenging glance before continuing, “But I’m sure it was nothing a few days spent locked in the bathroom couldn’t fix. I’m fine now, of course,” he added, the final words exaggerated with a flourish of his hand, as if waving off a trivial concern. “In fact, I’m better than ever—might even say I’m more resilient for the experience. A bit of suffering only adds character, don’t you think?”
The nearby students, who had been observing with a mixture of amusement and discomfort, now exchanged uncertain glances. Some seemed disgusted, while others looked awkwardly between Gintoki and Lucius, unsure how to interpret the tension—or the lack of it.
Lucius, ever the master of composure, didn’t let Gintoki’s theatrics ruffle him. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk still playing at his lips. His eyes, though, remained cool, calculating. “I’m sure your… resilience is truly remarkable, Sakata,” he said, his voice low and smooth, as if the whole exchange had been nothing more than a polite conversation.
Lucius knew better than to rise to Gintoki’s provocations. The boy thrived on the reactions he could provoke, and Lucius had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing him flustered. Instead, he settled back into his own calm, controlled demeanor, almost enjoying the quiet tension in the air.
“I trust your… digestive fortitude will remain strong for the remainder of your time here,” he continued, his words laced with a subtle, mocking edge. “Wouldn’t want you to lose any more time in the facilities, now would we?”
His gaze flicked briefly to the other students, who seemed to be holding their breath, caught between the uncomfortable humor of Gintoki’s antics and the cool, unyielding poise of Lucius’s responses.
Before Gintoki could continue, Lucius’s expression grew more serious, and his voice lowered slightly as he cast the Muffliato charm to prevent anyone else from overhearing their conversation anymore.
“So,” Lucius said, his voice taking on a more businesslike tone, “Imagine my surprise when Father told me you’d be attending Hogwarts. Especially after you said you wanted nothing to do with this place."
Gintoki rolled his eyes, losing some of his theatrics now that their exchange became private, and stretched his arms behind his head as he lazily responded, “I’ve got my reasons.”
Lucius sat in an empty armchair across Gintoki, watching him carefully. “And I’m sure those reasons are none of my business?”
Gintoki shrugged, a faint, mischievous glint in his eyes. “Exactly.”
Lucius chuckled softly, his gaze flicking briefly to the others in the room, then back to Gintoki. “I guess you had father pull some strings for you to enroll here. It must be a big reason. I doubt I’ll ever fully grasp what it is you’re after.”
Gintoki’s smirk didn’t fade as he stretched, lazily turning to look at Lucius. “I don’t expect you to understand. It’s not your place to.” His tone was as flippant as ever, but Lucius noticed the slight edge of something else—something deeper, something hidden beneath the boy's carelessness.
“I just hope you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for,” Lucius added quietly, his tone thoughtful.
Gintoki’s eyes flickered with a strange intensity for a brief moment before his lazy grin returned. “We’ll see.”
Lucius studied him for a second longer, then nodded slowly, as if deciding something. “Just don’t cause any trouble in my house. I don’t want to have to clean up after you again.”
Gintoki raised his hands in mock surrender. “I make no promises, Malfoy.”
For a moment, the two just stood there, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Lucius let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. He was all too aware that, beneath Gintoki's flippant attitude and apparent indifference, the boy was a force to be reckoned with. Lucius had witnessed it firsthand in Knockturn Alley and caught glimpses of it in their past encounters. While Gintoki appeared calm now, Lucius knew better than anyone that if pushed too far, the boy would retaliate with ten times the force, if not more.
Lucius had done his part—at least, in his own mind—by ensuring that Gintoki was under his protection. He had made it clear to others, especially within Slytherin, that Gintoki wasn’t to be touched – that he was associated with him. After all, he knew all too well how easily Slytherins could stir up trouble when they set their minds to it. But Gintoki had a unique talent for causing chaos with barely a second thought. Lucius was certain that the other first-years—perhaps even the entire house—had no idea just what kind of storm could be unleashed if Gintoki were bored, irritated, or simply feeling mischievous
"I’ve done what I can," Lucius murmured under his breath, mostly to himself.
As he looked at Gintoki, still lounging in his armchair with that infuriatingly casual air, Lucius couldn’t help but think that it was going to be an interesting year. A very interesting year indeed. But at least, for the moment, he could rest easy knowing he made it clear to everyone Gintoki has his protection, and by extension, keep the worst of the chaos at bay… hopefully.
Of course, that didn’t mean Gintoki would listen.