“I-It appears young master Draco would be a squib…”
The words seemed to slip one ear out the other. Silence, utter silence for a couple seconds before the fact sunk in. Impossible. How can a Malfoy possibly be a squib?
“….M-My lord…. There’s many opportunities for even s-squibs…! I’m sure young master Draco would still be a talented…..as a….well…” The healer then paused, unsure what to say as he bit on his lower lip. Lucius couldn’t help but sneer as he looked down upon the pale, shivering man, who flinched at his slightest ministrations.
Cowards, fools most of them.
“…You are certain of this then.” Lucius finally drawled, his voice quiet— far too calm considering the news. Rather than the outburst of anger he expected, this quiescent reply chilled the healer to his very core.
“Y-Yes sir…. I have seer-like abilities after all, and this new spell I created to determine a newborns magical prowess is 100% accurate in its reading…. at least as far as my studies show…” the man murmured, his voice quietening as he continued on. Lucius scoffed.
“….And I assume you haven’t told anyone of this fact?”
“O-Of course not sir! I have just… found out. You are the only one who I have informed as of late..!” The healer said, his tone lifting up ever so slightly. He then tried to force a reassuring smile to further his point, but failed to do so as it resembled more-so a grimace.
Lucius then paused, taking in the form of the timorous man who seemed to shrink even further. Well, he supposed this would make his next action easier. Lucius took his wand out of his cane.
“Oblivilate” he murmured, his eyes narrowing in satisfaction as he healers eyes widened in fear before going placid— devoid of all emotion. It was a sign that his spell had proved effective. Then, he waved his wand once more to cast another spell, “Imperio”
“You will remember no information regarding my child being a squib. Walk back home, once you do, all you will recall of this encounter is that my child is a normal, healthy boy, and that you have successfully done your duties.” Lucius commanded, his voice cold as he watched the healer nod before turning away to complete his orders.
Then, with one sharp movement, Lucius put his wand back into his cane as he hastily made his way back inside the room.
“Well, what did he say dear?” His wife, Narcissa asked, clutching their newborn babe in her arms. She hardly seemed nervous— Of course she wouldn’t be— for who would expect a Malfoy to be a magic less squib?
“…He’s healthy, nothing amiss” Lucius replied smoothly, bending down to plant a kiss on his wife’s cheek. For now, he would find a way to deal with this fact…alone. His wife shall be spared from this displeasure
At that, Narcissa smiled softly, hardly aware of her newborns fate, as she brought the now sleeping child up to her bosom. Then, turning the boy to face her husband, she spoke.
“He looks just like you dear… He has your eyes, hair, face…I’m sure he’ll be just as great a wizard when grown….” She murmured softly.
Lucius couldn’t agree— it was hard to see himself in the child whose skin was wrinkled and shaded red— eyes swollen from his time in his mother’s womb. The pride and joy he would normally have felt was consumed by the foreboding nature of the boy’s future—magicless, a disgrace to his family name. Watching his wife expectantly hold his child out for Lucius to take; hesitantly, Lucius drawed the boy in his arms.
“You should rest dear,” he eventually said, “I’ll see to it that Draco would get his proper care. In the meantime— sleep.”
Then, with his wife’s pleasant nod of approval, Lucius left the room, stiffly patting the sleeping child on his back to ease him before handing him over to a house elf to take care of.
*****
Time passed like a fickle child. The days wrapping up on themselves as it slowly inched forwards— capricious and unpredictable in its nature.
Lucius had no idea what to with with his son, Draco, whose fate was hardly desirable. And it certainly didn’t help that the time of his child’s birth coincided with height of his lords power, which was now slowly deteriorating. For even before his child’s conception, his lords movements started to become more and more erratic, like time itself, as his focus strayed from his goals. Instead, the dark lord hyper-fixated on a mere child that had yet to be born.
A child that, supposedly, would result in his downfall.
Lucius would never admit it out loud, but he deemed his Lord’s apprehension to be nothing but a superstition. There was no possible way for a babe to defeat one of the most powerful wizards alive. However, Lucius knew that his Lord wouldn’t consider to stop and heed his followers concerns, pouring out his generous funds to identify the boy.
Eventually, it was determined that the prophecy boy was the Potter’s child. A half-blood. Surely a child from with such ancestry wouldn’t possibility lead to his lords end. Lucius would have been more inclined to believe the prophecy child to be the Longbottom’s boy.
In any case, as his Lord finally formulated a plan to end the pitiful life of his “greatest enemy”, Lucius simply held his tongue as he keenly listened to the orders of his lord who had clearly lost his senses.
****
Lucius arrived at the rather quaint home located at the hearth of Godrics Hollow with trepidation, carefully slipping through the agape entrance. His Lords signal had dulled significantly ever since he announced he would make his way into the Potter home to kill the prophecy boy. As far as Lucius was concerned, he was the only one informed of his Lords movements, and was told to be there for backup. Not backup to aid his lord in case things went awry, but backup to clean up the mess that would certainly occur.
The Potters home was silent inside. It looked rather homely and unexceptional, as though a massacre did not just occur. However, once Lucius made his way to the nursery, he froze. Inside, the walls were painted red as two lifeless bodies lied on the dreich, wooden, floor; forever gone from the world of living.
Carefully making his way in, Lucius didn’t flinch as he scoped the extent of the bloodbath. He didn’t feel fear, already desensitized to such horrors, but still deemed the sight unnerving. Seeing a nursery—a place of innocence and youth—crimson with the color of death was certainly a clashing look. He stepped over the still-warm bodies of Lily and James Potter with disdain, a bitter taste lingering at the back of his throat.
Then, he froze as the distressful cries of a child echoed throughout the silence of the room. Lucius, painstakingly slow, made his way towards the bloodied crib, scrutinizing the small child who was certainly still alive and bawling his eyes out. He gulped, a whirlwind of possibilities flowing through his mind.
“Silencio” He muttered with distaste, the cries starting to ring in his ears. Then, carefully regarding the babe’s grisly form— which gave him a throbbing headache— he uttered another spell “….Scourgify.”
Still, even as he child’s body cleared itself of the blood, the twinge of discomfort that ached through him had yet to disappear. Lifting the child up from its crib, Lucius decided to dribble a calming drought between the boy’s lips— which was cracked from his now silent screams—and watched with content as the boy’s distraught visage turned serene. He began to trace a single gloved finger along the freshly made, lightning bolt scar.
He would need to kill the boy now, right? Surely he needed to finish the job. But… as far as Lucius was concerned, his Lord was gone.
Whatever the Potter boy did, it resulted in the apparent end of the Dark Lord. Such powers in the body of a mere child was… something to be explored. Shame would it be for something so enticing to be killed before it had its time to flourish.
Lucius raised his wand up, but paused.
But what if he were to… take the boy for himself. It was not as though his lord was here to reprimand him. It would certainly take some effort to guise the boy so he wouldn’t be suspected but… it wasn’t anything impossible.
Lucius mind began to whirl at the thought, his hands, which was still pointing his wand towards the child—trembling ever so slightly.
Not to mention, his son Draco would be a squib, at least if the words of the healer were true. If Lucius were to have another child… one who had the power to extinguish even a dark lord… it would certainly negate the lack of magical prowess his birth son would have.
However, before Lucius could truly contemplate his options, the sounds of the Aurors arriving at the scene shocked him out of thought. Hastily, he tugged the one year old boy under his arms. Then, after another moment of though, he transfigured a vial to fill it with the blood of the dead Lily and James Potter.
With that, he apparated back to his manor, sighing grimly as he slumped his back on his luxuriate walls. He stared down at the child— whose eyes were wide but fearless— due to the effects of the calming drought no doubt.
He would need to move quickly, Lucius realized. He was certain the Aurors would make their way to his manor soon.
***
Blood adoption. That would be the key.
Lucius began to pace around the room, gathering the materials needed to perform the ritual. Once he got what was required, Lucius executed the spell, watching with mild satisfaction as the dark curls turned platinum and the soft features a bit sharper. Still, it wasn’t enough. After all, blood adoption didn’t delete the genetics of the parents prior, merely added on to it. That wouldn’t do.
With a flick of his wrist, he cast a mild cosmetic spell— the child’s skin paling a bit as barely visible freckles dawned over the nose and cheek, the distinct scar disappearing from sight. A wave of his wand— the nose warped to resemble his own, as did the curve of his eyes. Another flick—this time to add some of his wife’s features, he couldn’t forget about that. And, after mild adjustments, Lucius deemed his creation ideal, a perfect amalgamate of both his own and wife’s… he would, of course, edit it with time in case the child’s growth altered his modifications…. but for now, this would do.
Then, gazing upon those jeweled green eyes, Lucius, after giving pause for thought, decided to leave them be. It would be riskier, yes, but he wasn’t so cruel to leave nothing for the boy.
In any case, the eyes of his mudblood mother would be reminder enough; reminder that the child he would raise, in the end, wasn’t truly his own. That this child‘s true identity— no matter his title and name— was and will always be Harry Potter, the boy that led to the downfall of his lord. A ‘Potter’ that had the blood of a muggle running through his veins. That, he could not forget. Those cursed green eyes would be just enough; he couldn’t afford to come and love the child lest his lord return.
And, with half his plan complete, Lucius wrapped the now sleeping babe in new, silken sheets, cradling him in his arms as he made his way towards the nursery, each step heavy as he wandered through the winding corridors.
He saw Narcissa in there, a tired but content look in her eyes as she gazed towards the small bundle in his arms. She paused then, looking down to ensure that it was her child laying in her arms, that it wasn’t her sleep deprivation making her see illusions, before opening her mouth.
“Legitimatize” Lucius muttered without giving his wife a chance to question. Scourging through the memories as he carefully reworked those delicate strands, Lucius felt no guilt knowing that this would, in the long run, be best. For both his and Narcissa’s sake. At the very least, she would be able to love—revel in the knowledge that she had at least one child who would be able to use magic. And Lucius… he would be able to keep his distance. To steel himself in case of dire circumstances.
Once he finished with his ministrations, Lucius conjured up another crib and stepped back, masking a gentle smile on his face— one he reserved only for his family— as he watched the life return back to his wife’s placid features.
“I’ve already fed and bathed dear Sylvanus, Narcissa. I do realize it must be overwhelming— with two boys at that— pity I cannot do more” Lucius drawled, his voice nonchalant but movements stiff from apprehension as his wife’s lax expression sharped. To his relief, his wife took to child in his arms with little hesitation. As though it was the most natural thing.
“Sylvanus had always been the more fussy twin I suppose,” Narcissa mused as she placed her “son” next to Draco. Cradling the two boys in her arms, she smiled lightly, full of love as she gazed at a boy that was never hers.
“In any case, I must leave for now Narcissa. There’s… trouble regarding the cause,” Lucius drawled after a while, studying his wife’s features which passed a look of displeasure.
“….Trouble?”
“Yes, trouble. The ministry may come to…investigate. But don’t fret Narcissa, I have things under control. Take care of the boys, I’ll return by midnight” and, with a billow of his robes, Lucius left.
He didn’t need to worry too much, for nothing in his manor was amiss. Nothing to indicate that the child in Narcissa’s arms wasn’t his own. After all, he had yet to announce the birth of his heir to the public, holding it back due to Draco’s predicament. On the other hand, his involvement as a death eater would… not be so easy to resolve. Perhaps a generous bribe would do.
Then, polynuicing himself as a social worker, Lucius made his way to a wizarding orphanage, which was full after the war’s destruction. Not a single worker questioned him as he entered with a charming smile and a half-baked excuse.
Scourging through the countless sleeping children, he hastily took a boy that looked to be one-years old. Using a body-binding and silencing spell on the now-awakened babe, he hurriedly apparated away back to his manor. No one would miss a child whose entire family had certainly been killed. No one would care to spend the ministries scant funds on an irrelevant orphan boy when it could be used to aid the war effort. This boy was no “Harry Potter” after all.
Then, Lucius got to work again. This time, his movements were more precise, already experienced in dealing with the Potter boy. He took out the vials from his pockets which were filled with the blood he collected from Lily and James Potter’s prior. He performed another blood adoption, this time to make this child look like the “missing” Harry Potter.
After all, it wouldn’t do good if the order continues to believe the prophecy child to be gone. Unlike this insignificant orphan boy, without a body to confirm his death, the order would search for Potter; this small, sliver of hope enough to go through even the depths of hell.
This orphan boy should thank him, Lucius silently mused as the child’s features began to transform. After all, it was him that made this unremarkable orphan a “hero”. A hero that defeated the dark lord.
Once Lucius finished making the last few adjustments, especially the signature lightning bolt scar that carved the Potter boy’s face before he removed it, Lucius appratated once more. This time, it was to Godric’s Hollow.
With his face concealed by his robes, Lucius placed the boy behind a bush— hidden enough to be missed at first glance, but noticeable so that the child wouldn’t sit out too long in the cold. Then, releasing the silencing and body-binding spell, Lucius returned to his manor.
Collapsing on his bed, the soft duvet softening the blow, Lucius scowled as he heard the Aurors knock on his manors door. He was utterly exhausted from the spells he had performed prior—without pause for rest no less— but he knew that he couldn’t relax just yet.
Now, all that was left to do was deal with his own sentence as a death eater. The rest he would settle later.