A Freaky Thing
-September 5 1991-
The Dark Lord was inducting recruits again. Narcissa had been surprised when Lucius came home to tell her about them. It’d been a good few years since the Dark Lord actively recruited. To be fair, the last time the Dark Lord recruited, the war was still fresh on everyone’s mind. People were a lot less inclined to join the ranks of the brand new dictator. After a few years went by and the New Ministry settled, people were far more willing. (Narcissa was pretty sure it had to do with the fact the Dark Lord wasn’t really a dictator. The Dark Lord acted more like the British muggle Monarchy. He was in a state of power, but not overbearing.) Either way, the Dark Lord was recruiting once more, and the new recruits were currently going through the induction ceremony.
Narcissa stood by her husband with the rest of the Inner Circle members on the raised platform to the right of the Dark Lord’s throne. She watched with pointed disinterest as the new recruits blanched at the sight of their Lord sitting on the throne, a gigantic snake in his lap. It appeared that the new recruits were less informed than she thought.
While it was true that the Dark Lord had stepped out of the spotlight after the end of the war, he was still very infamous among the citizens of Magical Britain. She assumed that all the recruits would be more aware of their Lord’s belongings and mannerisms. Not to mention, there were several stories of what their Lord was like circulating the masses, and a good amount of them held a strong degree of truth to them.
She held back a smug smile as the recruits flinched as the Dark Lord stood. Narcissa had only witnessed two induction ceremonies, so she knew what to expect, but the excitement of seeing them hadn’t faded yet.
“Welcome,” her Lord said in a deep baritone. She watched as the recruits all relaxed slightly at the welcoming tone of her Lord. “I am grateful that you have come to join me. You will bring honor to your family’s name and progeny to come.”
Narcissa remained indifferent as the Dark Lord’s welcoming speech continued. Instead of paying attention to her Lord’s words, Narcissa studied the new recruits. These recruits were the children in Hogwarts during the war eleven years ago. They were most suited to be recruited, as they had time to adapt to the New Ministry.
Narcissa didn’t know any by name, all of them were either young enough to escape her attention, or of a family that Narcissa did not keep track of. They stood straight as a board while the Dark Lord spoke, their eyes never straying from his standing form.
Narcissa watched patiently beside her husband as the recruits lined up single file in front of the Dark Lord’s throne. They each knelt in front of the Dark Lord and attempted to hold back agonized screams as the Dark Lord marked them. When the last recruit had been marked, they stood in a semi-circle around the Dark Lord’s throne.
The Dark Lord gave a final parting speech before the recruits were dismissed to the dining hall. As per tradition, the new recruits would spend the rest of the day in the castle getting to know the other followers.
Narcissa, along with the other Inner Circle and family members, sat on the raised platform where the Dark Lord and important members ate. The other four tables were placed on the floor in a fashion so similar to Hogwarts, it made Narcissa sentimental.
The recruits sat amongst lower ranked Death Eaters and family members, talking and laughing as they familiarized themselves with the hierarchy. No doubt, the new recruits would be pushing the lower ranked in an attempt to gain more status.
Already, Bellatrix and Barty were holding bets as to which recruit would be killed by an angry follower first. Narcissa, never one to partake in such an uncouth display, merely ate her food in a dignified fashion.
“My Lord,” Barty called, interrupting the comfortable silence at the table. Her Lord looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Will Little One be joining us this evening?”
Everyone at the table froze then, turning to the Dark Lord in interest. The last time the Dark Lord held an induction ceremony, Little One was introduced to the recruits on a seperate day. However, everyone loved Little One, and the opportunity to play with him for a little while was enticing to everyone. Especially because Little One had not been wandering around for a little while, and the Inner Circle were anxious to see the precious Inferius.
The Dark Lord raised a wine glass to his lips, his crimson eyes narrowing as they glanced over the sea of his followers. “We’ll see.” he said. “Little One has been asking about you all.”
The Inner Circle beamed, and Bellatrix’s smile---while still slightly crazy---was far more genuine than usual. “I miss the little tike!” she exclaimed. “I want to give him the tightest hug! Oh Master! When will you allow me to teach him? Little One would look so adorable torturing the idiots of the world!”
The Dark Lord hissed. “Little One will not be used as a weapon.” he snarled, his crimson eyes flashing with fury. The other people at the table flinched back at his tone, but Bellatrix merely pouted.
“But My Lord,” she whined. “It would be a crime not to fulfill my duty as Auntie Bella and teach the little monster how to make people fear him!”
“This is why Narcissa watches Little One.” the Dark Lord deadpanned. Had it been a decade earlier, Narcissa would’ve been stunned silent at her Lord’s casual joking tone. Rather, Bella would be writhing in agony on the ground for such a comment.
“I can’t believe Cissy stole Little One’s favor from me!” Bellatrix cried, sending a mad glare in Narcissa’s direction.
“Your craziness would scare the poor child,” Rabastian said, a cruel smirk resting on his face. “I’m amazed you’re even allowed near him!”
“Little One loves me!” Bellatrix cried, scandalized. When no one came to her defense, Bellatrix slumped in her chair with a pout. It was so strange to see Bellatrix acting so… human. Narcissa had long since stopped believing her sister to be anything more than a mindless killing machine. Yet, after a few years around Little One, she acted… she acted more like the child Narcissa had lost to politics and madness.
The rest of the meal continued with comfortable silence, small bursts of conversation stirring up every now and them, but still relatively quiet.
When the feast ended, the recruits and the rest of the Death Eaters split up. The families who had come to witness the ceremony now left, and those who remained were the recruits, Inner Circle and a few low ranked Death Eaters.
They adjourned to a sitting room where the Dark Lord retired to an armchair by the fire, and began to read a book. This was the part of the night where politics would begin. This was when the recruits would have to fend for themselves amongst the elite and prove their worth.
As the recruits began to get comfortable in the plush seats, Little One walked in. Bellatrix let out a delighted squeal, and Narcissa could tell it was taking all of her restraint not to rush towards him. The recruits were understandably confused, as Little One was a well protected secret among the Death Eaters.
Little One approached all of the new recruits, a gentle look on his face. It was clear when the recruits realized what Little One was, as they all froze, their eyes wide with horror and shock. Little One either didn’t notice the horror, or didn’t care, as he calmly walked to the first recruit.
The recruit tensed, waiting for an attack, only to open his eyes wider when Little One handed him a dandelion---the standard greeting flower Little One gave to a new person he met. The recruit took the flower with a trembling hand, his eyes glancing towards the Dark Lord in question. The Dark Lord didn’t even look up from his book.
The chain continued, Little One offering a flower to each new recruit, and each took it with confusion, but none dared to speak out against it.
Until one.
Little One approached the last recruit. He had been watching with a sneer marring his hideous face, and when Little One went to hand him a flower, the recruit refused. The room instantly tensed, the Inner Circle watching with barely concealed fury as the recruit sneered directly in Little One’s face.
The poor child didn’t even understand. He looked confused, his eyebrows scrunching up as he tried to hand the recruit the flower again. The recruit slapped Little One’s hand away from him, the flower flying to the floor.
The Inner Circle lost their composure at this, loud gasps reigning around the room at the display. The temperature in the room dropped. The recruit clearly had no idea what he’d done, as he continued to dig his grave.
“Who's pet dares touch me?” he snapped. The recruit leaned down, until he was level with Little One’s face and his sneer seemed almost carved into his face. “An inferius? No wonder it stinks in here. Who does this stupid creature belong to?”
“Watch yourself!” Narcissa hissed, trying to warn the idiot, but it was too late. The man had signed his death warrant. No one had dared to insult the Inferius before, and certainly not in front of the Dark Lord. There was no possible way the Dark Lord would allow the idiot to live.
“Is it yours?” the man sneered, taking notice of Narcissa’s scandalized expression and mistaking it for offense. “Why would you stoop so low as to house this mutt? What a disgrace! Only a worthless brat would keep such a disgusting creature! Does it even know it’s dead? Can it speak?” the recruit then looked back at Little One and grinned. “Do you hear me? Do you know you’re dead? How did you die, huh? See? He’s too stupid.”
It was silent for a moment, the horrified faces of the surrounding Death Eaters kept shooting looks between the dead man walking and their Lord, who had yet to interfere. The tense atmosphere was almost crushing, the anticipation of the recruit’s death sitting heavy on the Inner Circle.
Suddenly a small, child-like voice spoke, startling them into frozen shock once again.
“I did a freaky thing, sir.” Little One spoke, tilting his head up so that he could make direct eye-contact with the recruit.
Sucked in gasps were heard all around as this was the first time many of them had heard Little One speak. And this was the first time anyone had heard Little One speak English. No one doubted Little One’s intelligence, they knew for a fact that Little One was very smart, but they all assumed that he couldn’t---or wouldn’t speak. Be it from his age (as Inferius retained their intelligence and abilities from their life before they died) that was clearly a toddler who might not have learned to speak before he died, or perhaps the trauma dying had on the poor child’s psyche. Nevertheless, no one expected the Inferius to speak.
And certainly not with such haunting clarity and horrific words.
“I broke Aunt Petunia's china and Uncle Vernon was very angry and I had to be punished.” he continued, his emerald eyes hollow and empty, an emotion never before seen on the happy Inferius they knew. “It hurt. I couldn’t breathe. Then it was dark.”
Then, as if to demonstrate, Little One raised his hands to cover his throat and squeeze---Narcissa’s stomach lurched as she realized that someone had strangled the poor child to death. Someone who, according to Little One, was his own uncle. For doing something freaky. Meaning… Magic. Her horror broke through her mask, and she could see everyone else coming to the same conclusion all around her, as they stared at Little One in a new light.
Little One was a wizard. Had been a wizard. And somehow, his accidental magic caused his abusive Uncle to murder him. Magical children were considered blessings to wizards, as their fertility and birth rates were declining steadily. To be accused of child abuse could destroy anyone, no matter their standing. And to be convicted was an automatic death sentence. Child abuse by itself was barbaric, but to a magical child it could cause an obscurial! Child abuse in wizarding culture was taboo to the highest degree. Narcissa couldn’t even remember the last time an abuse claim had been made, it was nonexistent. The only instances where it occurred were in muggle-born families, and that only further cemented Wizard’s hatred of muggles.
To find out that Little One, the most beloved of the Inner Circle and pseudo-son of the Dark Lord, was abused and murdered was horrifying.
It was silent in the room as everyone struggled to process the knowledge they’d just been given. A quick glance around the room showed the Inner Circle in a murderous rage, and Bellatrix was on the verge of a snap. Narcissa could only hope that she snapped after Little One was gone, or she would scare the poor Inferius with her madness.
Little One didn’t seem to understand the weight of his words. He stood calmly in the same position that he’d been in, the dandelion laying on ground forgotten. His hands had fallen back to his side, and his head was tilted slightly in his usual position of childish curiosity. The only sign of what had just happened, was in the empty look in his eyes. Little One’s usually bright emerald orbs were completely blank. It was haunting.
A loud slam startled everyone once again, and they all turned to see that the Dark Lord had snapped his book shut. Narcissa shivered at the look of unbridled fury in his eyes. This was not the laid back, joking Lord that had been eating dinner with them. This was The Dark Lord Voldemort, destroyer of opposition and leader of Magical Britain---and he was seething.
“Now look what you’ve done.” though his eyes showed nothing but murder, his tone was just as gentle and kind as it always was when he spoke Little One. “You’ve gone and upset yourself, Little One.”
Little One did not appear to be upset, but she knew that the Dark Lord knew the inferius better than anyone did. The Inferius slowly turned his head so that he could face the Dark Lord, and Narcissa flinched at the emptiness in his eyes.
“Why don’t you go find Draco and show him those flowers you were telling me about to cheer up?” her Lord continued in that gentle tone, as if he were speaking to an injured animal in a cage. The Dark Lord then turned to look at Narcissa. “Your son returned from Hogwarts for the ceremony, did he not?”
Narcissa started at being addressed, and quickly regained her bearings. “Yes, My Lord.” she said. “He is with the other children in the back garden.”
The Dark Lord nodded curtly, his crimson eyes blazing with a homicidal intent that Narcissa had not seen since the war. “Hear that? Run along now, Little One,” he said. He gestured to the giant snake that was resting on the hearth of the fireplace. “Nagini will join you.”
Little One nodded and stood, hissing something to Nagini who eagerly followed the child. Nagini slithered with the Inferius, stopping only to hiss at the horrified recruit. (By this point, the recruit had realized that he’d done something unforgivable and his life was forfeit.) The second he was gone the Dark Lord turned to face the recruit and Narcissa feared for the man. The door clicked shut and the Dark Lord rose gracefully, his eyes flashing a deep red.
“Now,” he purred, a horrifying rage lacing his words. “I do recall you saying I was a… what was it? Ah yes! A worthless brat.”
The recruit shook his head in petrified horror. “N-No My Lord… I…”
“Allow me to show you how… worthless I am.”
The recruit’s screams echoed across the Dark Lord’s castle for weeks on end, a clear warning to the rest of the Dark Lord’s followers.
And Narcissa did not pity the fool.
Not one bit.