Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. This is only a product of my overactive imagination. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling- except the plot anyway.
There are things better unknown. Science shall mingle with magic, creating a most extraordinary creature not even Harry Potter could resist. HPDM R&R, Please!
Author's Note: This is my first fic. Please have mercy! If something's unclear, please don't hesitate to ask, okay?
18 years ago...
The mist from the swamps drowned the couple's senses as they rode the battered old boat through the shallow waters.
Owls began to hoot all around and the crickets chirped in multitudes, awakening the small bundle hidden within the arms of the smaller figure. It began to cry, its small voice echoing throughout the dreary place.
"Shut it up, Narcissa", the man hissed as the child's wails began to grow louder. "I don't want it attracting attention."
"The least you can do is pretend to care for him, Lucius", the woman retorted, her arms holding the baby closer to her. She turned to the crying child and gently rocked him, murmuring soft words that calmed him. When the crying sufficed, she turned back at her husband with a glare. "He is your son."
"I do not have a son", the other announced. "He is weak. A Malfoy is never weak."
"Our son is sick, Lucius! He may even be dying and all you can say is about that hideously gigantic ego of yours!" the other shouted in outrage, her bright blue eyes blazing in fury.
"You're pushing me too far, Narcissa," said Lucius in an ominously quiet tone that sent shivers up and down his wife's spine. "You should be grateful I even agreed to this. If I were given the choice, I say let the boy die."
Before Narcissa could utter another biting retort, they had arrived at their destination at the end of the swamp where an old tattered house stood.
They went off the boat and approached the house with caution, occasionally seeing flashes of light from the dirty and broken windows.
The door opened as they neared and an old man was there to welcome them with an odd, malicious grin that made Narcissa regret her decision to send her child here.
"I was expecting you…", said the old man, his voice hoarse and raspy. "I believe that the child you are holding"- he pointed at the small bundle- " is the boy I'm supposed to treat?"
Narcissa nodded uncertainly. Lucius only sneered.
"How very strange that a Malfoy would come to me for help", he said with a crooked grin. "You do know that this is a risky business, don't you?"
Again, Narcissa nodded, though this time she chose to speak. "You're the only one who could help him. No one at St. Mungo's can treat him. We've tried but it was unsuccessful…"
"Ah, yes, well, it's an illness that needs both muggle"- at this, Lucius snorted-" and wizard techniques." He turned on his heel then looked over his shoulder at Narcissa. "If you are sure about this then come inside. I'll be most delighted to help".
Nobody knew what happened that day at the swamp. None of the child's parents knew what they were really putting their child into.
As the "operation" finished and the Malfoys already left, the old man smirked.
He looked at the little boy beside him and said, "Royce, did you see that baby? He is my masterpiece". At this, the boy smiled shyly. "You want him, don't you?" At this, the boy nodded. "Yes, yes, well… he will be yours, don't worry. Those pureblooded bastards will pay dearly for what they did to Emily".