Lucius returned to the room and shut the door, then added another Muffliato. When he faced Rodolphus again, he seemed, for a moment, to have lost the ability to put words together. In a heavy silence, he walked to the table and set the replica of the Hand of Vecna and the jug of hard liquor down on it.
Rodolphus's sunken eyes swept over Lucius's face as he walked toward the table. Each step seemed to land on Lucius's heart. The stone chamber sank into a stifling silence, and Lucius wanted nothing more than to cast a spell and smash everything to pieces.
"Crabbe brought us a bottle of hard liquor even knowing what the Master intended? Still as stupid as he was when we were children..." Rodolphus picked up the Magical Prosthetic, his gaze falling on the joint at the arm. After a long pause, he turned around, his expression and tone unexpectedly calm. "Lucius, I need your help."
Lucius's brows knitted tight, his lips pressed firmly together. Several times he raised his head, only to lower it again, looking as if he wanted to speak but had no idea where to begin. His face was full of distress and guilt—his original intention had been to ask the Dark Lord to give Rodolphus a hand like Bella's, but he had never expected his good intentions to make everything worse.
Seeing Lucius hesitate, Rodolphus extended the half of the arm he had left and said firmly, "Lucius, it will be fine. Come help me."
"Rodolphus," Lucius said heavily, "a section of your arm has to be cut off first before it can be attached... and the Cruciatus Curse on that joint..." Lucius could not go on. He could not imagine the pain Rodolphus was about to endure.
"Isn't this trouble