The Other Potter

Chapter 1

The meeting finished quickly, as most of the Death Eater meetings do. The cloaked men filed out, and only one remained behind.

“Yes, Lucius?” Voldemort enquired, twirling absently with his wand.

“My Lord,” Lucius sunk into a bow and looked around worriedly. “My son, Draco, is currently at Hogwarts, and from what I have heard he said the risks are high of anyone getting near Harry Potter lately, not with his friends and allies in the castle.”

“Your concern is touching, but unnecessary. Those blood-traitors that affiliate with Potter pose no threat to Evangeline. I am sure of that.”

Lucius bowed his head, and looked at me darkly. “But there is also Dumbledore!”

“Who will protect his every student to his death. That is why my infiltrate shall be enrolled in his school.”

They talked about me as though I was not in the room, but I stayed silent, enjoying Lucius’s flimsy attempts to disagree with the Dark Lord’s choice. The grovelling man opened his mouth as though to speak, but shut it quickly.

Voldemort showed a smile of malice. “Believe me, Lucius. Evangeline shall bear no trouble in disposing of the boy.”

“Nothing hinders me, Mr Malfoy. So I suggest you avoid it.” He jumped as I spoke, my voice soft and deadly. “Leave now, you shall escort me to Kings Cross Station tomorrow morning, and will not attempt any grovelling in the process.”

“Grovelling?” Lucius asked in outrage, his chest expanding proudly. “A Malfoy does not grovel to the likes of you.”

My fist shot out and caught him in the jaw, and as he doubled over I kicked him in the side. Sprawled at the doorway, the dishevelled man clutched his split lip and glared up at me. “Leave now, Malfoy, lest I take out my wand.”

The man did as he was told, staggering out of his own study and stumbling down the badly lit hall.

Voldemort stood impassively, and examined the spot of blood on the carpet. “There was no need for the theatrics.”

“He deserved it for his impudence.”

“I doubt we need to worry about that anymore. The insignificant servant should know not to question my wishes.”

I grinned, and Voldemort smiled back at me, a rarity that only I would get to see.  He hugged me and said, “Go to sleep now, you shall need all your wits for the morning.”

I nodded and waited for him to walk with me, only realising that the Dark Lord no longer needed to sleep. I had been with him for my entire life, trying to sustain his soul as he waited for the time to come back to power. When Peter Pettigrew found us and reawakened Voldemort, his powers surpassed all that that he had instructed me in, and it was hard to catch up to the fact that he did not need to sleep or eat to live.

Bundling my robes around me, I walked quickly down the halls of Malfoy Manor, arriving at my room. The inside was lusciously decorated in deep purples and grey, my king-sized bed a prominent feature in its interior.

I snuggled under my purple blankets, hugging my pillow, and quickly fell asleep.