"Well. I suppose this is goodbye."

"It must be that way. I have a mission and you'll need safekeeping. This is for the best."

"Will you write to me?"

"That would defeat the purpose."

Lucius trembled before the Dark Lord.

Stop. That wasn't right. Malfoys didn't tremble. Not even in front of all-powerful Dark Wizards who held Lucius's very life in their hands.

Or his arm, as it were.

Lucius stood proudly at the right hand of the Dark Lord, not trembling, not even a little bit.

"Show your proper respect, Lucius."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius bent down and kissed the hem of his Master. He looked up and once the hand was offered, he kissed that, too. Lucius fought the urge to wipe his mouth.

Not that Lucius would ever have to wipe his mouth. It wasn't as though his Master's skin was scaly and tasted like sulphur. No. Not at all.

"You may rise." Lucius stood straight once again and bowed his head slightly, recognising he was in the face of greatness. He wasn't bowing because he was subservient.

Malfoys were not servants.

"Lucius, I know you have great ambition within you. Your loyalty to me is pleasing, as is your enthusiasm in the face of tasks most may find...disturbing."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"I've decided to entrust you with one of my most prized possessions. Keep it in your manor until such a time that I may need it once again. Can I trust you with this?"

"Yes, of course, Master. I'd do anything for you."

Lord Voldemort paused, tracing his mouth with his finger. "I suspect that's how you see it. How long have you been serving me now?"

Lucius thought for a moment. "Approximately five years." After a beat, he added, "My Lord."

"And you're how old?"

"I'll be twenty-five years old this May."

"Such ambition for someone so young. You remind me of myself. This is one of the other reasons you've been chosen for this."

Unable to restrain himself, Lucius blurted, "What is it?" He cringed because he'd just interrupted the Dark Lord. Wait. Lucius didn't cringe. That never happened.

Shockingly, the Dark Lord's thin lips curled into a smile. "It's a diary. Inside are the preserved memories of me as a sixteen year old boy. If you write to him, he will write back. If he likes you, he'll show you more. I suspect he'll like you." His master handed over a thin, black Muggle book with the name "T.M. Riddle" stamped on the front.

"What shall I do with it?" Lucius was perplexed.

"For now, simply guard it with your life. If it's ever needed, you'll know it."

Lucius nodded, still searching for answers. He'd know when the time came. Lucius trusted in the Dark Lord. He was not afraid of him. He did not tremble.

When Lucius returned to Malfoy Manor, he placed the book within his private study. He warded the bookcase and made it invisible to all eyes other than his own. He didn't write in it.

"Tom, what would you want with an old man, anyway?"

"When I look at you, I see power, ambition and I see what I'll become. I also rather enjoy our chats. We have a lot in common." Tom smiled when he heard the high, cold laugh. It was like bells.

"Are you unhappy about being trapped in here, Tom? A mere memory?"

"You know I'm more than a memory. I can write, talk, think, dream. Touch, feel, smell, taste. And I don't mind waiting. I have all the time in the world."

"Mmm. I'm pleased I gave you senses. I'm pleased you can bring people in here at will. I think Lucius will enjoy his gift."

"For now, can I enjoy you?"

Tom placed a kiss on Voldemort's thin lips. Here was his past, his present and his future. When he was needed, he'd know.