'There's one very important thing you must promise me before I give you the diary, however.'
'What is it, Dad?'
'This diary is not exactly legal,' Lucius told him in a low voice. 'The fewer people who know about it the better. Don't tell your Uncle Sirius or your Aunt Cassiopeia. For that matter, I shouldn't even tell Aries who gave it to you. I trust them all, of course, but...'
'Even the walls have ears,' Draco finished, and nodded. 'Good point, Dad. I really appreciate what you're doing for Aries.'
'For you, Draco,' Lucius said, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. 'I'm doing everything for you.'
After dinner that evening, Draco and Narcissa Flooed over to Windermere Court. Abraxas's gout was acting up, so he retired early, commanding Dobby to draw him a hot bath. No one was around to notice as Lucius slipped out of Malfoy Manor and Apparated to a distant shack built on the very edge of a high cliff, on a rocky island somewhere in the North Sea. The weather was stormy, and Lucius pulled his woollen cloak tight to keep out the icy rain. He knocked on the door three times, and it creaked open. Lucius hurried inside.
The inside of the shack was mostly dry, but that was about all one could say for it. The thin walls did virtually nothing to keep out the biting wind, and the tiny fire flickering in the grate provided only a modicum of warmth. In an old armchair beside the fire sat Quirinus Quirrell, his eyes closed. Quirrell was seldom awake these days, but the same was not true of his master.
Lucius knelt on the dirty floor. 'I have come, my lord,' he said.
'Welcome, Lucius,' the Dark Lord greeted him, his high, cold voice seeming to come from the back of Quirrell's head. 'I hope you like my humble abode.'
'I do wish, my lord, that you would allow me to secure you more...appropriate accommodations,' Lucius pleaded. He was tired of having to come out to this miserable hellhole.
'As I have told you, Lucius,' the Dark Lord hissed, 'this island has certain useful magical properties. In the absence of unicorn blood, it is the best I can do to maintain my strength.' He paused. 'What of your mission? Have you completed it?'
'It is done, my lord,' Lucius said quietly. 'My son will pass your diary to the Black brat as you commanded.'
Even in his weakened state, the Dark Lord's voice could still send chills up Lucius's spine. 'Are you certain the boy will not fail to do as you have instructed?'
'I am, my lord,' Lucius replied.
'Well done, Lucius,' the Dark Lord said. 'That impudent whelp thinks he can usurp my rightful title without repercussions. We shall show him how wrong he is. We shall show him what it truly means to be the Heir of Slytherin.'
.....
It took very little time for Draco to realise that it was a good thing he had agreed to spend the Easter holiday with his cousin. Aries was doing much better physically, but he seemed to move about the house listlessly, never taking much interest in anything. He did anything Draco suggested, but he never suggested any games or activities of his own. He congratulated Draco on taking his place as Seeker, but he made virtually no response when Draco emphasised that it was only temporary, and they everyone would be glad to have Aries back in the autumn.
Late one evening during the first week of the Easter holiday, Aries and Draco were playing a game of Exploding Snap on Aries' bed when Mopsy suddenly Apparated into the room. She bowed low to her young master.
'The room Master is requesting is ready,' she informed him.
'Finally!' Aries exclaimed, showing a hint of enthusiasm for the first time in ages. As far as Draco knew, it was the first time since Marius's death.
'What is it, Aries?' he asked eagerly. He felt that anything that could distract his cousin from his ongoing feelings of guilt and grief had to be a good thing.
Aries rose to his feet. He was still rather wobbly after his prolonged recuperation, but at least he was no longer confined to his bed. He stuck an arm under his pillow and removed the Philosopher's Stone before turning to Draco and grinning widely.
'How about I show you?' he said, and Draco nodded. 'Mopsy, take us over to the laboratory,' Aries commanded. The house elf grabbed each boy by the hand, and the three of them vanished.
They reappeared in a dimly-lit room Draco had never seen before. Three long workbenches stood in the centre of the room, and the stone walls were lined with shelves containing thick volumes in dead languages, a bewildering variety of rare and expensive potion ingredients, and numerous cauldrons of various shapes and sizes.
'Where are we?' Draco asked.
'This is old Uncle Phineas's private laboratory,' Aries explained. 'He was quite the potions expert, apparently, and conducted numerous experiments right here in the house. It's enchanted so that only the owner of the house, or those he admits, can find it or enter it. I don't know whether Uncle Marius even knew about it, but Mopsy certainly did. When I asked her whether there were any place in the house where I could work on some experiments in absolute privacy, she told me about the room. It was in a terrible state, but she's been cleaning it up for me.' He turned to the house elf. 'Thank you, Mopsy. You may go. We'll call you when we need you to take us back to our bedrooms. If anyone looks for us, tell them we're sleeping.'
'Yes, Master,' Mopsy replied, and Disapparated with a loud pop.
Draco looked around the laboratory in astonishment. 'Aries, this place is brilliant! I bet even old Snape would kill to have a laboratory like this.'
His cousin snorted. 'I bet Snivellus would kill for a lot less.'
'True,' Draco agreed. 'So what experiments did you have in mind?'
An unearthly light shone in Aries' eyes. 'We're going to brew the Elixir of Life,' he said solemnly.
Draco frowned. 'Who's ill?'
'No one yet,' the boy replied. 'But I don't want us ever to be caught unawares again. We're going to brew a large batch of the Elixir, and we'll each keep a flask on our person at all times. We'll store the rest here in the laboratory, and I'll command Mopsy to be on alert to bring us a flask if she ever hears of any family member who is suffering from a potentially-mortal illness. If we're unavailable, she'll bring it to Dad, and on down the line.'
.....
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