"Lucius, my cunning friend." Voldemort's words confirmed Harry's suspicions. He wore a smile, his voice so gentle that Harry actually had the illusion that he was rather suave. "I hear you haven't abandoned your old ways, despite putting on such a respectable face for the world.
"I believe you're still willing to take the lead in torturing Muggles. Hmm, in fact, you seem to have done just that around this time last year, didn't you? At that ridiculous gathering to watch a bunch of clowns on broomsticks? And you stirred up some interesting trouble afterward."
Lucius kept his head bowed and did not answer. But his trembling body betrayed how he felt.
"But I don't understand, Lucius. I don't understand. Why didn't you devote your energies to something more meaningful, such as finding and helping the master to whom you once swore allegiance?" Voldemort's voice drifted, his smile growing colder.
Even with danger drawing near, Harry still felt as though he had stumbled upon some juicy gossip.
Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy had been behind the trouble at last year's Quidditch World Cup. That was exactly what they had suspected at the time.
"Master, I've always kept an eye out, always kept watch." Lucius Malfoy's voice emerged from beneath his hood and mask, sounding rather panicked.
"At any signal from you, at any rumor of your whereabouts, I would come to your side at once. Nothing could stop me..."
"Really?" Voldemort interrupted Lucius with a soft chuckle. "But last summer, during that farce you caused, after a loyal Death Eater sent my Mark into the sky, you don't seem to have come forward. Instead, you ran away?"
At this, Voldemort leaned close to Lucius, his lips almost touching Lucius's ear. "What you say and what you do seem rather different."
Lucius