The golden lines around the altar lit up at once.
Lucius's breath caught.
"Master, the channeling has begun."
"No."
Voldemort stared at the crystal.
"This is merely the warm-up."
"The real channeling requires blood."
Lucius looked up at him.
"How much?"
"Enough for it to remember me."
"Too much will contaminate the sample."
"Too little won't wake it."
He raised the knife. Lucius's heart lurched, but he dared not run. Hopefully that Amulet Douglas gave me works.
"Do you know what I hate most, Lucius?"
"I wouldn't dare presume."
"What I hate most is people calling my failures fate."
The blade pressed against his wrist.
"I have never believed in that."
"If it can't be done, the tools are inadequate."
"If it can't be found, the pathways are wrong."
"Tonight, I will remedy both."
The instant the thin stream of blood fell, the Core Crystal blazed with light.
Lucius's heart settled too. He was not the sacrifice.
First came gold.
Then it sank deeper inward.
Soon, it turned an eerie green.
Lucius's throat tightened.
The blood did not spread across the surface.
The entire crystal absorbed it.
"The dial on the left."
Lucius immediately reached out.
"Which setting?"
"Bloodline."
"Yes."
"The next setting."
"Hatred."
"The next setting."
"Darkness."
"Stop."
All the conduits in the basement lit up at once.
The red liquid in the glass tubes turned into fine froth.
Bone powder slid off the edges on its own.
The black wax melted in the heat, flowing toward the center along the grooves.
Voldemort stood before the altar without retreating half a step.
"Listen, Lucius."
"Yes."
"From now on, do not interrupt me."
"Do not touch me."
"Do not try to be clever."
Voldemort closed his eyes.
His lips began moving rapidly.
First came an ancient Name-Calling Spell.
Then Parseltongue.