Diary of a Death eater
OC story,
Major plot change starting from the attack on the astronomy tower.
Warning: Character death, other such cruel things, delicious plots, bad men! Warning of all and anything Death Eater.
Not much could stop Daphne from holding Draco's hand as they stood beside the pillar. Borgin and Burkes had always looked so big before, but now, as 16 year olds, the two teenagers felt like the walls were going to cave in. Taking a gulp in, Daphne turned her head, her lips to Draco's ears as they both kept their eyes at the center of the circle. "Are you sure about this?" She hissed in-between gritted teeth.
Daphne Greengrass, 16, five foot 7, nothing more than a hundred and seventy pounds thanks to developments in her youth, stood beside Draco Malfoy. Daphne's father at the middle of the circle pulled out two tombs with blood smeared on the pages. Cringes from both the teenagers, Draco turned to look Daphne in the face. "I have to do this, Daphne, you know I have to"
A pained expression crossed her face as she nodded and turned forward. "Then, let's get this show on the road."
The other beckoned the two from behind their masks. With a deep breath, Daphne tucked her loose curls of strawberry blond behind her ear and sauntered up to the tomb pedestal before her. Draco followed suit in a slow stride, keeping his nose and chin up. Once he was by her side, she turned to look at her companion. She couldn't smile at him like they did when they were kids; she couldn't encourage him that this would be okay. Usually females got a more intimate tattoo, on their thighs instead of their forearm. But if Draco had to go through this, she would too.
No turning back now, no showing weakness. Daphne pulled on her stone mask and slammed her right arm down on the tomb. Pain shot through her veins instantly as magic shot up and around her skin, forcing her arm still. Draco did the same, keeping his face cold and distant. Her knees threatened to show everyone how much she didn't like pain, but the 16 year old Daphne held her ground and grasped the other end of the pedestal for support. That's when the masked man descended his wand on his son's pearly white skin and Daphne's own father pulled back his hood and put his wand to her skin. Eyes connected, she never lost eye contact as her father cut deep into her skin with the tattoo.
It was like being mauled alive, it was like fire and poison seeping into open wounds. Enough to cause intense pain, but not enough to kill. It was torture, it was demanding attention and it didn't end. Daphne wouldn't cry, she wouldn't let that happen at all. Left hand nearly clawing the pedestal to shreds as her tipped, manicured to perfection nails dug into the marble stone. Jaw set tight to snap, she kept her eyes on her face. She didn't dare look to Draco to see how he was holding up; she didn't dare let them see.
Incantations were spoken as the tattoo pressed further into her skin. Their voices muffled out the sound of her heart slamming into her rib cage, her nails clawing into the marble. Tears were going to form, but she couldn't let them. NO! Daphne demanded control of her emotions as her father smirked and pulled back.
That's when the worst part happened. Her hand was a thousand pound weight that her father slapped up off the tomb and watched drag his daughter to the ground. With a gasp, Daphne fell to the ground, the whole world swimming before her eyes. Drowning, she felt like she was drowning as she reached to her neck, clawing at the necklace around her throat. A hand snapped her one hand away from her neck as the other burned like a liquid flame. Daphne let out a cry of pain as her body convulsed back, smacking her back against the harsh, dusty floor. Her strawberry blond hair splayed across the wooden floors, her eyes almost rolled back in her head as the tattoo grew stronger on her flesh.
"Daphne." She turned her head to look to the blond beside her, just as equally weak and eyes full of hurt and betrayal.
They never once said it hurt. It was for the good of the people, they said. They would be rewarded, they said. But Draco didn't want that, and Daphne certainly didn't either. No, they would be rewarded with their lives. This would be good for Voldemort, and no one else. But it stung like a knife to a weak spot in her side. Enough to bleed her dry, but not enough to kill her on contact.
They joined the Death Eaters that day, but neither of them wanted to, not with knowing what they individually had to do.
Hands yanked them up off the floor and turned them to look at the man with the mask, weak and drained of almost all life. Daphne couldn't help her eyes looking down to her arm. There it was, still at the moment but she could have sworn it moved.
"Now… for your tasks."
