Lucius Malfoy was enjoying his early morning cup of tea when the mark on his arm blazed into life. His master was calling him and from the sheer intensity of the burning pain radiating out from the tattoo he knew it was extremely urgent.
Why was Voldemort using the mark to call him? After all, the dark lord was staying in his home. He could have simply told one of the elves to fetch him. He hurried downstairs still clad only in his bathrobe to find Voldemort pacing around in his drawing room. There were burned scraps of paper and ash floating in the air. He barely had time to wonder what they were before he was suddenly subjected to the cruciatus curse.
"Crucio", screamed Voldemort as he pointed his wand at Malfoy.
Lucius screamed and thrashed on the floor as his nerve endings exploded in agony. A thousand white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin. Dull rusty jagged knives that were scraping along his bones and he was screaming...screaming louder than he had ever screamed before. Twenty seconds later he was hoping for death and the cessation of all feeling, but it was a full two minutes before Voldemort lifted the curse from him.
"Get up you snivelling worm. Get up and explain to me how you let this happen", shouted Voldemort.
Malfoy struggled to get up, to get his aching limbs to obey. He tried to beg forgiveness from his master for whatever it was that had displeased him but all that came out was -
"Sneerp...gurgle...a suffusion of yellow...warm...slimy...down my leg...Would you like some tea?"
"Stop babbling you idiot. Tell me how you let this happen. You have one job - to keep Fudge under your thumb and make sure he does nothing that goes against our plans, and you couldn't even do that. How did you let him expel Potter? Tell me Lucius, how does it serve my plans to have Harry Potter disappear? How?" shouted Voldemort.
"Urk...P-P-Potter...Fuh-fuh-fudge...don't know...expel...when...peaches..."
Voldemort sneered at the hapless wizard who was still whimpering and drooling. "Damn it to hell", he thought. "Why were all of them so bloody useless? Is it too much to expect competence from my followers? Look at this weak bloody idiot. One little cruciatus curse and his brains get scrambled. I hit Potter with far worse and he still managed to escape. Not only did he manage to get away from the graveyard but he took that Hufflepuff's corpse with him as well. If only my Death Eaters would show half as much resolve."
He sighed and stalked around the room. Bloody incompetents, all of them. Even Snape had not managed to inform him of the fact that Potter had vanished. Well, he would soon make the filthy, greasy half-blood pay for his incompetence. It was absolutely ridiculous that he had to learn about Potter's situation from a newspaper. The Prophet - of all despicable rags. What was the point of having a spy in Dumbledore's school if not to inform him of things like this?
Oh yes, he and Snape would be having quite a long discussion about this.
Speaking of Potter, should he task his Death Eaters to search for him? It would probably be useless to send them out looking for him. Potter could be anywhere. No point in wasting manpower and resources to look for him. No, instead he would contact his informants and sympathisers discretely and have them keep an eye out.
Yes, Potter's disappearance was...inconvenient and might make it necessary to change his plans regarding the prophecy. There was also the annoyance that he no longer knew where Potter was at all times. Knowing the location of your enemy had inestimable value after all.
Still, there was no real hurry, Potter was only a boy. It would be years before he could truly pose a credible threat, especially as that blood protection of his had been negated. Sooner or later someone would spot Potter. Either that or he would find a way to lure him back. Then he would find him and kill him, publicly and brutally.
He sniffed the air, the blonde ponce had soiled himself to boot. Useless, absolutely useless. He really should move up his plans to break Bella and the others out of Azkaban. She was far more competent, though a bit over-zealous, than this...this weak excuse for a pureblood. Such a pity that he still needed Malfoy to influence Fudge and the Ministry or he would happily spend the next week or two slowly flaying the gurgling idiot inch by painful inch.
He should probably call an elf or someone to come take care of the idiot. A few healing potions should have the moron up and about in a few days. Then he would set him to the task of finding out exactly who was responsible for this debacle. Someone would pay - Pay dearly. He would prolong their torture for months. Yes, that was what he would do.
Oh for the love of...when would Lucius stop that ridiculous moaning? Honestly, what was wrong with the man? It was only a little crucio.
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