Betrothal

by Sanna
 
 

Prologue
Malfoy Progenitor Dirus
(The Malfoy Family Curse)
 

Malfoy. The man laughed scornfully. They were supposed to be
meeting at their secret room beneath the dungeons of the castle
they had rebuilt. Where was he now? Off with his muggle-loving
friends. He’d show him. No one crossed Tom Marvolo Riddle. No
one.

Riddle clenched his fist tightly, opening it and then closing it again,
trying to control his anger. Auctor Malfoy hadn’t graced the castle
with his presence for a whole week now, and Riddle knew he had no
reasonable explanation other than avoidance of his partner.

The castle’s location was Unplottable on any map of Britain, sitting
near the edge of its shores. The cold air surrounding the area
seemed to reflect the frigidness of the two wizards’ souls.

After graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
together, Malfoy and Riddle had found the remains of this deserted
castle and used their magic to rebuild and put safety wards all
around it. But of course, they did not forget to put in the deadly
traps for those who dared to try and break into the fortress.

Sweeping his cape behind him, Riddle moved away from the window
and decided to take matters into his own hands. Malfoy was going
to pay dearly. He stood behind his cauldron, mixing the last
ingredient he needed to complete the curse. Getting Malfoy’s blood
had been easy; they had both stored a good amount of blood for
potions and curses they were experimenting with. Riddle had
merely taken some of his without asking.

After years of reading up on deadly curses and poisons, Riddle
could conjure up several spells to kill Muggles and weak wizards in
his sleep. But that wasn’t good enough. As Malfoy had been his
partner for so many years, Riddle needed a much stronger curse to
obtain revenge worthy enough. And after days of experimenting, he
had decided on the perfect curse for a wizard who was strong in
power, but weak in morals.

As the mixture glowed a bright red, the man cursed his former best
friend to a lifetime of service and woe. He shall not survive this
terror, and neither shall his descendants, Riddle laughed to
himself. Malfoys for generations shall serve the Dark Lord known as
Voldemort, he thought to himself. Forever.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

"Muggle-born wizards have every right to be here!" Optime Weasley
argued hotly, his eyes blazing similarly to his fiery red hair. Having
heard Tom Riddle and Auctor Malfoy approach and begin to bully
Joseph Andrews, he leapt to the second-year’s side and began to
defend him. "They were allowed into Hogwarts because they have a
high Magical Quotient, probably even higher than yours." After
giving the two boys a glare, he led Joseph away.

Riddle took out his wand from his pocket. "I’ll teach you to talk
back to me," he seethed.

But before he could curse Weasley, Malfoy grabbed him by the arm.
"Don’t," he said. "He’s a pureblood like us. Our goal is only to
eliminate and injure the muggle-borns who are unworthy." By this
time, both had conveniently forgotten that Riddle was a half-blood.

Riddle turned his death-glare to his partner. "Purebloods like that
are unworthy of the name! They are just as bad as those
muggle-borns," he said with utter distaste. He paused for a
moment, before looking at his friend in suspicion, "Why are you
defending him, anyway?"

Malfoy hesitated for a moment, remembering.

There were two boys playing together in the small field between
their houses. They were young, around seven years of age.
Financially, both weren’t that well off, but at such an age, money
and material things weren’t worth much to them.

"I’ll see you tomorrow, Auctor!" the boy with the red head said
with a wave, as he headed home.

"Bye, Optime!" Auctor shouted back, running in the opposite
direction. "Let’s play together again tomorrow!"

It had been a long time, and both had moved on from the
friendship they had once shared. In fact, both boys now had a
strong dislike for each other. So, Malfoy could not help but wonder
why he didn’t want Riddle to hurt his one-time friend. He turned to
Riddle, remembering he had asked him a question. He gave a slight
shrug. "He’s one of us. He may be on their side, but let’s get rid of
the muggle-borns first."

Riddle stares at him for a long time, trying to read into his
thoughts and figure out why Malfoy was defending that
Weasley-scum. Suddenly, Riddle felt that he couldn’t trust in his
partner as much as he used to. Sure it was a small argument now,
but later on he just might stab him in the back.

"Fine," he finally, said putting away his wand. Malfoy hesitated,
knowing that Riddle was angry. But before he could say a word,
Riddle turned his back swiftly, and walked away. Malfoy grimaced,
before running to catch up with him.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

The boy entered the Hogwarts Express with much apprehension.
The forceful glare on his face contained his amazement at the
magic of this place. Everything was new to him, and everything
intrigued him. A half-born, yet muggle-raised, he had yet to learn
more about the world that he had just become part of.

Arriving alone on his first year in this new school, he knew not
where to go, but instead relied on common sense, ingenuity and a
few others he thought were wizards themselves. He followed them
discreetly, keeping enough distance to make others aware that they
were not to approach him.

He sat in a compartment alone, not because no one wanted to sit
with him. Rather, he preferred solitude rather than annoying
company. Many heads popped in through the doorway, looking for a
place to sit. The heads popped out quickly after being on the
receiving end of the glare that seemed to kill. An evil smile crossed
his lips. What chickens, he thought to himself.

One wizard however, walked right in and dumped his trunk on the
other side of the compartment. He looked his age, yet his will was
much stronger than that of a first year. The first boy glared at him,
standing up and crossing his arms to seem intimidating.
Surprisingly, the wizard glared right back at him, unwilling to back
down.

The two met glare for glare until, finally, two smirks crossed theirs
faces. They were matched evenly it seemed. The blonde young
wizard who had just entered extended a hand in greeting. "Auctor
Malfoy. And you?" he asked, raising his chin slightly in greeting.

"Tom Riddle," the dark-haired boy said, extending his hand, and
firmly shaking with the other. This seemed to indicate the respect
that flowed between them, something that Tom rarely gave. The
handshake was a bit tighter than obligated, but both boys came
from difficult backgrounds; they were made from tougher stuff than
necessary for their age. The similar smirks remained on the two
young wizards’ faces, yet both knew they had met someone who
might actually understand.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

"That was uncalled for, Riddle!" Malfoy shouted. "Those were
innocent wizards without a single drop of Muggle blood flowing
within them!" They were in their secret room within their castle.
Malfoy was so mad that he was tossing tables and chairs, spilling
potions of all kinds on the cement ground. "We’ve debated over
this before, you had no right-"

"I had every right!" Riddle roared, glaring at his partner-in-crime.
"They were Muggle-lovers… just as dirty as their friends. They don’t
deserve to be called wizards! Might as well take them down in the
process!"

Riddle then began to compose himself, turning upright a chair that
had formerly lain on the floor. He sat down calmly. "As my partner,
Malfoy, you shall respect my decisions and continue helping me, as
I do to you. Now, are you in or are you out? Don’t tell me you’ve let
your love for Muggle-Lovers get in the way of your goal of becoming
the richest wizard alive."

Malfoy looked him straight in the eye as he did when things
between them got tense. His voice had considerably softened, but
the resentment was still there. "I can’t continue to work with you
while we have such different views. Neither of us will back down, so
going our separate ways is the only possible choice. As for my
fortune, I’m already halfway there. See you around, Riddle," and he
turned and left.

The room was filled with silence for many moments. "Never turn
your back on me, Malfoy. You should have known better. You’ll pay
for that. And you’ll regret this day for as long as you shall live,"
Riddle hissed.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

"Congratulations, Mr. Riddle," Armando Dippet said, shaking the
boy’s hand after awarding him with his trophy. He flashed him a
worried smile. "You must promise never to tell anyone else about
Rubeus’ involvement."

Tom Riddle gave him his winning smile. "Of course not, Professor. I
wouldn’t dream of it." He in turn, faced the rest of the Great Hall
where everyone was watching him receive his award, and smiled
widely, concealing his sarcastic thoughts.

As he returned to his seat in the Slytherin table, Riddle found
Malfoy waiting for him. He greeted him with the cool and aloof
non-smile that he had given him the past few weeks while they
hadn’t been speaking to each other. Malfoy didn’t say anything, and
Riddle didn’t care that much, why should he be the one to
apologize?

"Tom," Malfoy said, after much hesitation. "Congratulations, I
guess."

"Thanks, Auctor," Riddle replied, with a shrug of indifference.

There was a pregnant pause. "Look, Riddle," Malfoy began to say.
"I just wanted to apo— say that— well, you know…," he drifted off,
unable to beg pardon from his sort-of friend. "I know we have our
different views, and although I still think your take on this is too
extreme, I just want you to know, that— I guess, I missed your
company."

Riddle grinned inwardly. It was strange seeing Malfoy stutter out
his apology. Although Riddle would die before apologize, he had to
admit, researching Slytherin and his Chamber of Secrets had been
quite lonely. "I accept your, apology," Riddle said, with Malfoy
cringing at the last word.

They sat down across from each other in the Slytherin table and
began to catch up on the past weeks they had missed on each
other’s lives. "So what was that award for?" Malfoy asked, pointing
to the award that the Headmaster had just given Riddle.

After much thought, Riddle had decided not to inform Malfoy about
all he had discovered about Slytherin and the Chamber. While he
had resolved to put away that project for a few years, now was not
the time to tell his partner. "It’s just like Professor Dippet said, for
bravery and honesty," Riddle said with an overly innocent face.

Malfoy glanced up from his dinner to look at his partner
suspiciously. "Yeah… sure…." But he dropped the topic. It was
obvious Riddle didn’t want to talk about it, and was most likely
going to be difficult if not impossible to get out of him. He could
find out later on what Riddle had been up to recently. Things
always had a way of coming out.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

"What kind of subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts anyway?"
Riddle asked with a loud sigh, pushing his book away. The Librarian
who sat five tables away from them at her own desk shushed him
loudly.

Malfoy tilted his head knowingly, indicating that this wasn’t the
first time this topic had been brought up. "If only I had been able
to afford a better school, like Durmstrang perhaps, then I would
have gotten a better education than this! The Dark Arts are meant
to be learned, not to be defended against."

"Rotten school," Riddle spat in disdain. "A real school would show
us how to use the powers of the Dark Arts. And what decent
magical school accepts dirty muggle-borns like these?" He shut his
book loudly. "If I were in charge, all muggles would be killed. Dirty,
good-for-nothing…" he continued mumbling, as the two continued
to rant.

Having been partners or friends, or whatever they called it, for a
while, Malfoy and Riddle had realized that they had both had come
from desolation and resentment. Riddle had come from a muggle
environment, which he had hated, while Malfoy had been raised
pure but poor, and had come to despise his origins.

The two spent most of their time in the Library, but not studying
and keeping high grades as most of the professors and fellow
students thought. Rather, they were reading extra books concerning
the Dark Arts and how to ‘defend’ themselves, hoping to fulfill their
goal of removing themselves from ‘the filth’ of their beginnings.

"When I’m the Lord of the Dark," Malfoy started bragging, as it was
routine to them, "I shall be the richest wizard of them all! No one
shall look down on me, lest they want to be killed." An evil grin
formed upon his lips.

And so Riddle continued. "When I will be the Dark Lord…."

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

Auctor Malfoy suddenly doubles over in pain. He howls in agony as
his whole body glows. Everything around him blurs, until he realizes
he has been transported to Tom Riddle’s lair. "You!" he manages to
hiss softly, wincing in pain. "I should have known you’d be behind
this."

Riddle chuckles evilly. "You should have known better than to turn
your back on me, Malfoy. And now, you, and your pitiful
descendants shall spend the rest of your lives in service to me,
Lord Voldemort." A loud and evil laugh fills the room, so loud that it
can be heard for miles away. Nearby, birds feel the evil at work and
take flight. Evil has captured a prisoner, and has begun spreading
its poison.

                            ~*~*~*~*~*~

                        Friend turned traitor,
                          Must forever serve,
                 The Lord now known as Voldemort.

                            Heir after heir,
                          Malfoys shall obey,
                             Until the day,
                       The Queen of the Light,
                           Shall bow down,
                    And love the dragon of Malfoy.

                              Only then,
                  Shall the Dark Lord be defenseless
                  And the Heirs of the Founding Four
               Shall bring down the Master of the Dark.
 
 
 

Chapter 1