Chapter 2

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Draco had only been in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor a few times in his life. The first time, he'd been eight years old. His father had decided he was old enough to be brought on a grand tour of the place, weaving tales of Aurors that had been held there and Mudbloods they had tortured during the height of the Dark Lord's influence as he went. It was then that Draco had received his first small lesson in power; what it was and why it was so important. The power to control people, the power over life and death; Draco saw and began to understand these things. In that dungeon, Lucius Malfoy owned people's lives. In that dungeon, Draco had begun to learn the value of power.

The second time Draco had seen those dungeons had not been so pleasant. It had been another lesson in power, though the moral of the tale was very different. On that occasion, Draco had learned the lesson from the other side of the cell bars. Draco had been eleven years of age when he had tried to sneak into his father's drawing room, planning to steal a few select items from the cache under the floor there, whilst his parents played gracious hosts at one of their world-renowned, glittering dinner parties. He had wanted to bring something, anything, to school with him to show off to his friends and increase his own influence and power. He knew better than to disobey his father, but the temptation had been too great. Of course, he had triggered the room's protective charms and wards, which had brought his father bearing down on him immediately.

Lucius Malfoy had been neither sympathetic nor vindictive as he had chained Draco to the dungeon wall, and Draco had not cried aloud. Emotion was for the weak. This was a punishment, and a fair punishment at that; both father and son knew it. As he had locked the cell door for the night, Lucius had said simply, "You don't take power like that, Draco. You have to earn it. Now, you will have to pay for it." When the doors to the dungeons had slammed shut, leaving Draco alone for his night of contemplation, he had finally broken down, tears streaming freely where nobody could see him. His father, whose dealings with both friend and foe had been laced with deviousness and greed, had pressed a hypocritical lesson on a mind which was far too young for such things. In many ways, it was a harder Draco who emerged the next morning, and perhaps that had been Lucius Malfoy's intention. Thus had his father shown him what it was like for someone to have power over him.

Now, all these years later, looking through the bars of the same cell at the limp, dark-haired figure lying on the floor, Draco felt that elusive thing called power. This time, he had earned it.

Draco allowed himself a small smile as his father fastened the lock on the cell door.

Lucius Malfoy turned to Draco with a flourish and caught that small smile. For perhaps the first time he stood and truly saw his son, mentally appraising him. Draco had indeed learned his lessons well, and now he had brought even more honour to the Malfoy name. He was a worthy child. A strong heir. Lucius' face unconsciously echoed Draco's satisfied smirk.

"Draco, this will please the Dark Lord immeasurably. He was not entirely convinced that your plan would succeed, but you certainly made a very elegant job of it. Simple, yet cunning. Salazar Slytherin himself would have been proud." He held out a hand. "May I see that dagger?"

"Yes, father." Draco knew it to be command more than question, and obediently withdrew the blade, turning it to his father, handle first. He knew when to speak and when to hold his tongue, so he stood in respectful silence as his father examined the small blade. It was still coated in dry blood.

Lucius turned it carefully over in his gloved hands, murmuring to himself as he examined the piece. "Very impressive. To think, all it took to bring down the unstoppable Harry Potter, after all this time, was this." He ran his fingertips along the flat of the blade, some flecks of blood sticking to the glove. His face was contemplative as he rubbed his finger and thumb together, letting flakes of the blood drop to the floor. "And this... the thing the Dark Lord has sought for so long. This time, it will be completed."

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