They say you should just let sleeping Malfoys lie. But what if they're under oath? Pt.4

8th June 1993. Peverell Manor.

Within the warm depths of his quilt, Ares woke with a yawn and began his meditation.

His mindscape lay before him, with his magical core floating at the centre of his memory palace. An infantile figure reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy hovered nearby in chains, giving the magical contract form. The Dark Lord could kill his new subordinate with a simple thought through a clever reworking of the original bond into one of absolute obedience.

It was a common adage in the Wizarding world to never swear a magical oath to a wizard skilled in soul magic. But unfortunately, even the most straightforward bond provides a platform through which unwanted constraints can be placed upon the contract.

Ares used this bond to subvert Lucius' mentality, gradually enslaving him entirely in mind and body through his soul.

Satisfied with his progress in corrupting his new subordinate, he came out of his trance and called for Dobby and Twonky, a recent hire, to help him get changed and prepare breakfast.

When finished, he was in wizarding robes with the Peverell crest and a tailored casual three-piece suit from a wizarding tailor. He had the necklace he had gotten from his vaults under his shirt, just in case. No one said a Dark Lord couldn't dress in style; anyone still living at least...

Apparating downstairs, he sat down at the dining room table.

All the appropriate cutlery appeared, with a napkin as if by magic.

Quickly followed by this was a full English breakfast.

Half an hour later…

With a content sigh, Ares finished his breakfast feeling complete and ready to face the day.

He had spent a decade planning out several punishments for Narcissa and had decided upon his final choice because it left the most variables for his amusement. Time had done a lot to dull his anger against her, especially when he had other people to direct his passionate hatred towards.

Ares made his way upstairs to his study and opened the secret compartment.

Taking out the books Lineage protections by Salazar Slytherin, he closed the compartment again and strode down to the ritual room in the basement of the manor, the space closest to the ley lines that powered the manor's wards.

While the Cloak of Death protected him against curses and such crimes as line theft, essentially the illegal version of what Sirius had helped him achieve, it wouldn't cover his new bloodline once he propagated.

The ritual he intended would mean no blood, even willingly given, would be able to permanently harm any member of his family.

After that, he would perform another ritual allowing him to track his blood using his ring no matter where it or the person that had it running through their veins went.

The irony was, of course, that these rituals would only remain in effect so long as his descendant's blood was pure enough...

Finally, he would perform the ultimate ritual, meaning no person could remove these protections. He would set requirements for a magical oath of no harm and a more physical key in the form of the lord rings of both the Slytherin and Peverell families.

Despite both families having a distinct and extensive heritage, he planned to gradually merge the two into one clan. Blood was thicker than water, and pure blood was better than mudblood for rituals.

The ritual was simple. Ares stripped and, taking a ceremonial knife off the wall, slit his left arm. Then, taking the blood, the Dark Lord made runes over his heart, jugular, and wrists.

Then he drew a ritual circle on the stone floor with the ingredients he had the house elves collect while he slept that night.

Happy with his circle, he grabbed some gold stands with candles and placed them on each corner of the star he had drawn.

Standing in the middle of the circle, he began the first ritual,

"Let the magic be my witness and power to my blood. Constrain and bind my descendants, granting them protection from malcontent with my blood and the generations of blood to come as your source!"

With a great gust of wind and flashing light, almost ethereal chains appeared across his naked upper body, spreading out from his heart and mapping out his veins.

The ritual was complete, and numbness followed by fatigue came crashing down on Ares. Like muggle vaccines, he would have to spread the more straining patterns over a few weeks.

He was expected by Lucius in an hour and a half at 2 o'clock, best to get ready.

'Well, I suppose it is time to meet Narcissa again and Draco. this should be fun." Ares thought with a smile to himself.

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8th June 1993. Malfoy Manor. 2 pm.

Silence dominated the tense atmosphere within the Malfoy household. Narcissa and Lucius were close to giving up all pretences, and Draco remained as ignorant as one might expect.

Precisely as the grandfather clock struck its last chime, the floo lit up, and Ares arrived in a flash of green flames.

His face lit up when he saw the necklace around Narcissa's throat. While not imperative to her inevitable punishment, it would provide a more amusing perspective if he knew what she thought as he played with her.

"My dear Lord and Lady Malfoy, Heir Malfoy, it is a pleasure to be invited to your house again. I have been looking forward to furthering the relationship between our two houses for a long time."

The offering of greetings was customary, even if you were visiting to take ownership of family and home.

Narcissa couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine as she saw his smile. Deep in her heart, she knew her life would change today; depending on how she played this encounter out, it could go very badly for her.

In his classic fashion of being more ponce than human, Draco thought it was great that his father knew such a noble and awe-inspiring pure blood.