“There is darkness within her.”
Lucius and Draco Malfoy sat on either side of the elaborate fireplace. They sat comfortably in plush, exquisite arm chairs, each staring into the flames, holding a glass.
Two glasses of brandy. Two sour looks. Two reeling minds. The father spoke quietly and earnestly to his son. After two years of shame and embarrassment, the time had finally come for redemption.
“He put it there, of course. Six years ago. Yet another experiment wielding his great power with the damn things. These horcruxes are fascinating, aren’t they? Just learn as we go and all that nonsense…” He trailed off, swirling his glass of brandy.
The younger blond rolled his eyes. “Fascinating.”
The older blond tilted his head, annoyed.
“Be serious, Draco, this is our chance. And it’s likely the only chance we’ll get. We’ve had many failures and frankly, I’m surprised we’re still standing. The Dark Lord has been-shall we say-uncharacteristically merciful to our family.”
The younger blond set his brandy down on the table. He leaned back in his chair with a slow drawn-out exhale.
He locked his eyes on his father, mentally preparing for the worst. Of course, what could be worse than what he had already been asked to do?
And failed…
Failed yes, he thought, but it was with this bastard in front of him where the blame truly lay. If he hadn’t been so greedy, so blind… if he hadn’t gotten his family involved with someone so insane…
But what could be done now? It was no longer about power. This was life or death. Kill or be killed. It was out of his hands. One way or another, he was paying the price for his father's foolish mistakes. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, before once again staring into the burning flames.
Burning like his soul surely would in hell.
“What must I do?”
X
Ginny was nearly late again.
A habit she had picked up since the beginning of term, she was often to be found, legs running and hair flying, bag slung over her shoulder. As she neared her class, she realized with relief that she would be right on time today. Slowing her run to a walk, she allowed her mind to wander to her most recent nightmare.
Tom.
Ink.
There was always ink, black and sticky, and sometimes she could taste it…
Lost in thought, Ginny rounded a corner and slammed into a tall, blond something. Catching herself on her knees but losing her bag, the contents spilling around her, she quickly spouted an apology.
“Oh! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking at all- ” She looked up.
“MALFOY?” she blurted, flabbergasted.
Draco freaking Malfoy. Back at Hogwarts. His blond hair was longer but there was no mistaking him.
Straightening his robes, he stared down at her.
"Weasley.”
For a few moments, she was at a loss for words.
Was she still in her nightmare? No, her knees were quite achy on the hard ground. What on earth was he doing here?
Panic began to flood her. Her brothers were gone. Harry and Hermione were gone... The few Gryffindors who stuck around for this year could hardly be trusted to protect her.
He scoffed impatiently and she looked at his pointed nose. Suddenly, images of bats and Malfoy lying on the ground writhing and screeching invaded her thoughts. Her unease evaporated. She set her jaw. Besides, as far as Death Eaters go, Malfoy had proved relatively harmless…
She had proved she could hold her own against him. She didn’t need protecting from the pathetic ferret. She rose from her knees, lightly dusting her skirt. She met his eyes and he continued staring.
Creep.
“Dare I ask what you’re doing here?” She sighed dramatically. “Had to repeat seventh year, did you? I mean, I more expected that of Crabbe and Goyle, and maybe that cow Parkinson, but you?” She added an evil chuckle for good measure, “Well, I suppose we all have our hidden struggles.”
The boy pocketed his hands, face unreadable.
When he continued to stare and say nothing, her thoughts left her lips before she could stop them.
“You’re not very good at pretending to be evil, Malfoy.”
He ignored the comment.
“I’m staff now, Weasley.”
He took a few steps towards her, eyeing her spilled bag but pointedly ignoring it. He seemed more interested in her reaction to his words.
“The Inquisitorial Squad is back, and, well... I’m captain.” He held his hands out like he was some sort of goddamn messiah of wizards.
“What?” It was more a statement than a question.
Then, the trademark Malfoy smirk made an appearance, albeit somewhat half-heartedly.
Ginny could not seem to find a suitable reaction to his announcement, but he no longer seemed interested in conversing. Without another word, he began strolling away, stepping on a spare bit of spilled parchment that had escaped her bag. As he walked away, he spoke to her over his shoulder.
“Oh, and I’m overseeing all student disciplinary action, so best behavior, Weasley.”
He left her alone in the corridor.
No insults? No hexing?
She was disheveled. Confused. Her bag was still spilled about on the ground.
She was late for class.
Damn.
Lucius and Draco Malfoy sat on either side of the elaborate fireplace. They sat comfortably in plush, exquisite arm chairs, each staring into the flames, holding a glass.
Two glasses of brandy. Two sour looks. Two reeling minds. The father spoke quietly and earnestly to his son. After two years of shame and embarrassment, the time had finally come for redemption.
“He put it there, of course. Six years ago. Yet another experiment wielding his great power with the damn things. These horcruxes are fascinating, aren’t they? Just learn as we go and all that nonsense…” He trailed off, swirling his glass of brandy.
The younger blond rolled his eyes. “Fascinating.”
The older blond tilted his head, annoyed.
“Be serious, Draco, this is our chance. And it’s likely the only chance we’ll get. We’ve had many failures and frankly, I’m surprised we’re still standing. The Dark Lord has been-shall we say-uncharacteristically merciful to our family.”
The younger blond set his brandy down on the table. He leaned back in his chair with a slow drawn-out exhale.
He locked his eyes on his father, mentally preparing for the worst. Of course, what could be worse than what he had already been asked to do?
And failed…
Failed yes, he thought, but it was with this bastard in front of him where the blame truly lay. If he hadn’t been so greedy, so blind… if he hadn’t gotten his family involved with someone so insane…
But what could be done now? It was no longer about power. This was life or death. Kill or be killed. It was out of his hands. One way or another, he was paying the price for his father's foolish mistakes. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, before once again staring into the burning flames.
Burning like his soul surely would in hell.
“What must I do?”
X
Ginny was nearly late again.
A habit she had picked up since the beginning of term, she was often to be found, legs running and hair flying, bag slung over her shoulder. As she neared her class, she realized with relief that she would be right on time today. Slowing her run to a walk, she allowed her mind to wander to her most recent nightmare.
Tom.
Ink.
There was always ink, black and sticky, and sometimes she could taste it…
Lost in thought, Ginny rounded a corner and slammed into a tall, blond something. Catching herself on her knees but losing her bag, the contents spilling around her, she quickly spouted an apology.
“Oh! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking at all- ” She looked up.
“MALFOY?” she blurted, flabbergasted.
Draco freaking Malfoy. Back at Hogwarts. His blond hair was longer but there was no mistaking him.
Straightening his robes, he stared down at her.
"Weasley.”
For a few moments, she was at a loss for words.
Was she still in her nightmare? No, her knees were quite achy on the hard ground. What on earth was he doing here?
Panic began to flood her. Her brothers were gone. Harry and Hermione were gone... The few Gryffindors who stuck around for this year could hardly be trusted to protect her.
He scoffed impatiently and she looked at his pointed nose. Suddenly, images of bats and Malfoy lying on the ground writhing and screeching invaded her thoughts. Her unease evaporated. She set her jaw. Besides, as far as Death Eaters go, Malfoy had proved relatively harmless…
She had proved she could hold her own against him. She didn’t need protecting from the pathetic ferret. She rose from her knees, lightly dusting her skirt. She met his eyes and he continued staring.
Creep.
“Dare I ask what you’re doing here?” She sighed dramatically. “Had to repeat seventh year, did you? I mean, I more expected that of Crabbe and Goyle, and maybe that cow Parkinson, but you?” She added an evil chuckle for good measure, “Well, I suppose we all have our hidden struggles.”
The boy pocketed his hands, face unreadable.
When he continued to stare and say nothing, her thoughts left her lips before she could stop them.
“You’re not very good at pretending to be evil, Malfoy.”
He ignored the comment.
“I’m staff now, Weasley.”
He took a few steps towards her, eyeing her spilled bag but pointedly ignoring it. He seemed more interested in her reaction to his words.
“The Inquisitorial Squad is back, and, well... I’m captain.” He held his hands out like he was some sort of goddamn messiah of wizards.
“What?” It was more a statement than a question.
Then, the trademark Malfoy smirk made an appearance, albeit somewhat half-heartedly.
Ginny could not seem to find a suitable reaction to his announcement, but he no longer seemed interested in conversing. Without another word, he began strolling away, stepping on a spare bit of spilled parchment that had escaped her bag. As he walked away, he spoke to her over his shoulder.
“Oh, and I’m overseeing all student disciplinary action, so best behavior, Weasley.”
He left her alone in the corridor.
No insults? No hexing?
She was disheveled. Confused. Her bag was still spilled about on the ground.
She was late for class.
Damn.
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