The Little One with Green Eyes

-June 2 1980-
Walden Macnair prided himself on his ability to stomach what others could not. It was an important skill set to have when it came to his job. Both his legal and… less legal one. After all, it was quite difficult to maintain a position that required you to kill a man and be unable to hold your lunch.

Yes, Walden Macnair had a knack for desensitizing himself to the suffering of others around him. It was quite the talent, if he dared say so himself. He could not think of another who could do what he did.

And yet…

And yet… Walden looked out amongst the sea of his friends and fellow Death Eaters, each one staring with trepidation at the scene before them. Their Lord---their powerful, magnificent Lord---sat in a heavy stone throne throwing a powerful cruciatus at the idiot recruit that failed his mission.

Now, Walden found that he wasn’t upset in the slightest at torture. If anything, he found it quite empowering to be at the top of a fallen and broken man. Yet, in this very moment, watching the recruit writhe on the floor in utter agony, Walden felt nothing but disgust.

It had started slowly.

So slowly, in fact, that they didn’t realize it until it was too late.

Their Lord, the Lord that they pledged their life, loyalty and progeny to, was losing more of his sanity with every passing day. At first Walden thought nothing of the extra torture and raids. He didn’t mind leaving more often to take out his frustration on the deserving Mudbloods who dared steal their magic.

But soon their Lord strayed from their ideals. Soon he grew more and more reckless. Walden respected his Lord, as he should, but he found himself drifting farther from respect and closer towards fear. His Lord had changed from the powerful and seductive man that he had pledged his life to.

Walden would serve him regardless---though, whether he would stay out of respect for the man he once was or fear for his life, he would soon see---and he would do so happily. Walden tuned back into the meeting in front of him, and this time he took notice of his Lord.

Yes, his Lord had definitely changed. Walden could remember when he had pledged himself to his Lord just seven years prior, his Lord’s magic was overwhelmingly powerful and demanding. His Lord’s magic---while still demanding and overwhelming---seemed almost stunted. His appearance had changed, as well. His Lord was once beautiful, his attractiveness gaining powerful allies. Yet now his Lord’s appearance was serpentine in nature. And his eyes… The ruby-red glare sent shivers down Walden’s spine.

His Lord had finished torturing the worthless recruit, and had stood, demanding the attention of his loyal followers. The useless man writhed on the floor in the aftershocks of his agony, and Walden sneered. How unbecoming.

His Lord stepped over the urchin like he was not there, and Walden found himself bowing with the other Death Eaters. His Lord commanded authority, and Walden found himself shivering as his Lord’s magic swept over him in a tantalizing, seductive show of power.

“My prized followers,” his Lord spoke, the beginnings of a hiss lacing his words. “I come before you today with news of the Light’s most recent attempt to end our reign.”

Jeers sounded among the Death Eaters, and Walden sneered once more as he looked at the idiotic ones who dared to interrupt his Lord. The Dark Lord seemed to agree, as he swept his gaze throughout the crowd and sent a brief cruciatus at them. When silence filled the halls once more, his Lord continued.

“They thought me gullible,” his Lord said, his crimson eyes sparkling with rage. “They thought that I, the great Lord Voldemort, would believe a half-baked prophecy from a common street rat?” His Lord laughed, long and cruel.

Some of the other Death Eaters shared his mirth. Sneers and smirks marred the faces of his fellow Death Eaters, and those in the Inner Circle even dared to laugh. (Although, in Bellatrix’s case, it was more of a mad cackle.)

His Lord, though, did not seem to mind. He smirked out at the sea of his most faithful and nodded. “Yes,” he said, hissing the last part of the word. “I know better. I can see the plot for what it truly is. And so I am here to inform you, the prophecy should not be followed. It is nothing more than a last-ditch effort to ruin our dream. It will not work.”

His Lord then smiled, his gaze dipping past the faces of all his Death Eaters. Walden felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat when his Lord met his eyes for a brief second. His Lord grinned cruelly at no one in particular and continued his speech.

“We are going to take the Ministry today,” his Lord said. Walden felt the air whoosh out of his lungs in excitement, and it took all of his control to stop his glee from being broadcasted on his face. “Today marks the day that Lord Voldemort shall go down in history.”

Cheers erupted in the halls as Voldemort finished.

“Today is the day that we will win.”

-September 5 1987-

“I can’t believe your father brought us here!” Pansy squealed, her black hair tied up in pigtails at both sides of her head. Draco grinned at her, and though he knew that squealing was unbecoming of a lady, no one was here to scold her and Draco himself did not care for the stuffy politics of Pure-Bloods.

He was only seven and he intended to enjoy his childhood while he could.

Hence the reason he was now surrounded by his best friends, and preparing to explore the Dark Lord’s castle. He had been given careful instructions of which parts he was allowed to venture and which were forbidden. He then was told to repeat it back to his father to make sure before he, along with Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini were sent off to go and explore.

Draco smiled. “I know!” he said. “Father said we can explore for as long as we want until dinner.”

“Is the Dark Lord going to be there?” Blaise asked dubiously. Draco smiled encouragingly at his friend. It was well known that the Zabinis had remained neutral in the war, but because they were a Pure-Blood family of such high status, and they had not fought against the Dark Lord, they were not stripped of their titles when the New Ministry was formed.

“It’s his home, Blaise,” Theo said matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t he be there?”

“Can’t we go exploring already?” Pansy whined, obviously not interested in the Dark Lord’s presence. His mother would be horrified at Pansy’s behavior, Draco thought with a grin. “Dinner is in two hours! That’s hardly any time at all!”

“Pansy’s right.” Draco said. “Let’s go already! I want to see just how big the Dark Lord’s castle really is.”

“I heard that it was endless.” Blaise said as they began to walk towards the nearest stairwell.

Theo scoffed. “Of course it isn’t,” he said with a derisive shake of his head. “Everyone would get lost all the time.”

“Not if they could just apparate.” Blaise countered. “Maybe it’s in an endless loop to catch trespassers.”

“That would be pretty smart,” Pansy cut in. “Maybe I should ask Daddy to do something like that to our manor.”

“Why would anyone want to break into Parkinson Manor?” Draco asked. “You don’t hold anything valuable there.”

Pansy gasped in offense but the boys only laughed together. Pansy fumed for another moment before she realized that it was a mere tease. She rolled her eyes and gently shoved Draco. “You’re mean.” she pouted.

“Sorry Pansy,” Draco said with a grin. It was obvious that he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “You know I only jest.”

The group of friends continued on their exploration of the Dark Lord’s giant castle in comfortable silence, only being broken for small conversations that lasted for a few minutes. They explored the arching architecture and stone halls with wonder.

There have been countless rumors of the Dark Lord’s fortress, but Draco had dismissed them as useless gossip that women traded for a chance to feel important. Things such as how the castle was magnificent and dignified, while also heavily fortified and mysterious. How the castle was grand and larger than even Hogwarts.

But Draco was pleasantly surprised to see that all of the rumors proved to be true.

Each level of stairs they walked up changed the scenery and design drastically. It was as if each level of the castle had been designed by a different person. The giant marble stairs did not move like Hogwarts, but there seemed to be a mild compulsion about them that steered the group in the right direction.

Draco had incorrectly assumed that the Dark Lord’s palace would be dark and dreary, meant to strike fear into the hearts of all who entered. But instead, the entrance to his castle was warm and inviting---the first level where most business was conducted was bright and open. Countless windows brought in the sunlight and showed off the beautiful gardens that surrounded the castle.

As the group of friends passed the third level, though, something changed.

Instead of finding a completely different level as they expected, the stairs branched off into two sides. The left side was clearly the side that was meant for visitors---the compulsion to walk left was too strong to suggest otherwise---and the right side showed a huge arch that led to a hallway just out of their line of sight.

“Which way should we go?” Blaise asked, eyeing the right stairwell with suspicion.

“The left---”

“I want to see what’s up there,” Draco said stubbornly, looking up at the right side with wonder. What could possibly be up there? “We should find out.”

“Are you crazy?!” Blaise hissed, his eyes wide with fear. “That’s… We’re obviously not supposed to go up there!”

“Whyever not?” Pansy asked, crossing her arms as she sided with Draco. “We were told where we could go. Draco, did your father mention this as forbidden?”

Draco frowned. “No,” he said, a gleam growing in his silver eyes. “He didn’t.”

“When there is a compulsion spell that leads up the left stairs,” Blaise said, looking at the left side pointedly. “That usually means we’re supposed to go left.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Draco asked. Blaise narrowed his eyes.

“What are you, a Gryiffindor?” he countered. Draco rolled his eyes.

“There’s no need for petty insults,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We can split up, if you prefer.”

Blaise seemed even more uncomfortable with the idea than he did of going up the right staircase. He shifted in his spot for a few seconds before he relented with a sigh. “Fine,” he huffed. “But if we get killed, I’m telling my Mother.”

“That’s the spirit.” Theo said with a laugh, patting Blaise on his back with a soft grin. “Up we go, then?”

Blaise, while still uneasy, nodded. And so the group quickly ascended the right staircase, blatantly ignoring the mild compulsions telling them to leave and choose the left.

They were greeted with a grand hallway. It was small, and there were only three doors in the hallway. The walls were lined with portraits of people the group had never seen before, and the marble floors were lined with a red rug. On the left and right side of the walls was a singular door placed in the center of the wall. Draco pulled on the right one and was unsurprised to find it locked.

“Guys, I really don’t think we should be here,” Blaise said, looking at the portraits wearily. “Can we please go?”

“Wait, this ones different!” Pansy exclaimed, pointing at the third door. The third door was in the center of the wall that marked the end of the hallway. Draco was surprised to see that Pansy was right, the door was different.

While the other two doors were in traditional, yet elegant, door frames, the third door was framed by what appeared to be intertwined roots. Small greenery stemmed from the roots and Draco could just barely see buds beginning to bloom pink flowers.

The only other difference was that the two doors were locked, while the third was slightly open.

Draco drifted towards the third door, and his friends followed loosely behind him. He peered through the small opening and let out a wonder-filled gasp. He could hear his friends nervously calling him in the background, no doubt anxious to see what had caused Draco to lose his composure, but Draco could not tear his eyes from the scene before him.

The room---or perhaps a better word for it would be garden---was, in a word, magnificent.

Draco slowly pushed the door open even wider and stepped inside. He ignored the horrified hisses from his friends behind him in favor of taking in the sight before him.

At first glance it looked like a grand greenhouse. Trees and shrubbery lined the walls---the walls themselves magicked to look like a bright and peaceful forest with daylight to mimic the cycle outside---and a firm bed of grass replaced the marble floors of the hallways. A small breeze ruffled his hair, and it made Draco wonder where it came from. Speckles of wild flowers sprang up from the floor and Draco could just barely hear the trickling of water nearby.

On second glance, however, it appeared to be a bedroom made of pure nature.

A bed made of branches and soft grass and flowers, hung from a giant oak tree in the center of the room. It was held aloft by vines covered in bright blue flowers. A small blanket and a handful of pillows sat on the bed as well as a tiny dog plush.

He heard familiar gasps behind him, and turned around to look at his surprised friends. They drank in the sight greedily, looking at the peaceful oasis in surprise.

“What… what is this place?” Pansy asked, spinning in a slow circle as she took it all in. A small smile spread across her face. “It’s like a Fairy Garden!”

Draco found himself inclined to agree with her. Fair Gardens were small patches of land claimed by the Fairy Court as sacred. They were often magical places filled with lucious plant-life and vegetation. Fairy Gardens were described as the most peaceful, and beautiful places of nature in the world.

“Why would the Dark Lord have a Fairy Garden in his castle?” Theo asked, bending down to look at the wild flowers.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud shuffling. The group of friends froze, their eyes wide with horror as they looked around for the source of the noise. It was obvious that they weren’t supposed to be here, and the last thing they wanted was the Dark Lord finding them in this sacred place.

Just as Draco prepared to run, a head poked out from behind the large oak tree.

Pansy gasped in surprise, and the face seemed to be just as surprised as they were. “An Inferius!” Pansy cried, stumbling backward. “That’s… that’s an inferius!”

“He seems a little young…” Theo said dubiously, looking at the undead toddler with doubt.

It was true enough, Draco supposed. But there was no doubt that the child before them was an inferius. A well-kept inferius, sure, but an inferius nonetheless. There was no rotting flesh, nor putrid smell that usually marked an inferius, but there were small stitches that held a small part of his neck together, and a tell-tale feeling of death that declared the boy as undead.

“I’ve never seen an Inferius so… alive before,” Blaise said with surprise. The Inferius in question was standing and eyeing them curiously with a spark of intelligence that was not often found in the Inferi. His eyes glazed bright emerald, and seemed to hold an age-old weariness that contrasted with his toddler body.

The Inferius looked no older than four, and he seemed to be well cared for. For an Inferius to be walking around with no bits of rotting flesh, and enough coherence to stop from attacking the first person it saw meant that he was made properly and by a powerful wizard.

But it was obvious that he was well-kept (the powerful magic aside.) due to the clothes he wore. They were not dirty or tattered, but rather well tailored and expensive. It was obvious that someone here really cared about this Inferius.

The reason as to why…

“Do you think it’s trained to kill people?” Pansy asked in a horrified whisper. Draco nodded. It was the only conclusion that made sense. The Inferius moved towards them then, clearly deeming them a threat. Pansy shrieked before she covered her mouth with her hand. “We’re going to die!” she wailed.

Draco watched with horror as the Inferius stopped in front of Pansy’s frozen body and reached into a bag that he hadn’t noticed before. It was a small drawstring bag that hung from his shoulder. The bag was saturated with the Dark Lord’s magic. This was the Dark Lord’s Inferius, Draco thought miserably. Surely, they were going to be killed.

“Please… please don’t kill us…” Blaise whispered softly, his wide eyes never leaving the toddler inferius.

The Inferius pulled his hand out of the bag and Draco flinched, expecting some kind of horrible weapon, only to be surprised as the Inferius held out a bouquet of Lavender and Daisy flowers to Pansy.

Pansy stared at it in surprise for a second before her trembling fingers grasped it.

The Inferius smiled brightly and giggled silently. Draco’s mouth dropped further as the Inferius reached into his bag once more and pulled out a handful of carnations and handed them to Draco, Theo and Blaise respectively.

“Is he… Is he trying to be our friend?” Theo asked incredulously.

“Indeed.” a cold voice drawled from behind them. The group whirled around in horror, and Draco felt his blood freeze when he saw the Dark Lord looking at them with a raised eyebrow. Instantly, the group dropped to the floor in a deep bow. The Dark Lord continued. “Little One is quite the friendly one. It’s been a while since he’s made any friends.”

“...My Lord?” Draco asked when the Dark Lord fell silent. He shifted uneasily. Were they in trouble?

“Come now,” the Dark Lord said firmly, gesturing for them to leave the room. The group jumped up and hurried out of the room, and Draco sent one last questioning look at the Inferius behind him. “I don’t want you hounding Little One any further.”

“Little One?” Blaise asked, looking at the Dark Lord in confusion.

“Return to your parents now,” the Dark Lord commanded. “And don’t come snooping up here again. I won’t have you bothering my precious.”

Draco wanted to ask more, but he knew better than to argue with the Dark Lord. The group quickly walked down the hall to the stairs, and Draco sent one final glance back towards the room to see the Dark Lord bend down to embrace the Inferius, before he descended down the stairs.

It was only much later, after the dinner party had finished and Draco and his family had returned to Malfoy Manor, did Draco give the strange Inferius any thought. It was obvious that the Inferius belonged to the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord held some sort of sentimentality to it.

Draco wondered who it could have possibly been. The Inferius was a mere toddler, and no discernable features that Draco could recognize. Never, in his entire life, had Draco heard of the Dark Lord having a close companion.

And yet…

Beside him, sitting in a decorative crystal vase, sat a single red Carnation, glinting in the moonlight.