This is a story a wrote over two years ago, and I am currently editing it and rewriting portions, I could only save certain chapters so please bear with me while i fit them together with newly rewritten chapters, and redo the old:)
"Get over yourself Parkinson." I snap at the rather unattractive girl sitting on one of the long, black leather sofas adorning the Slytherin Common Room. She was facing across from the sofa I was sitting on, Draco's head in my lap, while I stroked his magnificently white blonde hair. His gray eyes glittering mischievously in the greenish light cast from the windows, giving us a view into the lake.
My wand lay on the lamp table next to me, close enough to intimidate the pug-nosed, Pansy Parkinson.
She has always been jealous of me, ever since she discovered my interest in Draco, now that we're dating; it's only fed her fire. Blaise snickered in the corner, clearly amused by her expression, poison seething from her eyes practically as she glared at me.
I look down at Draco again, he's now smirking. I run my hand down his chest and he shudders with pleasure. It's a rainy Friday evening, all of our lessons are done with, and a trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled for the next morning. Draco was getting all the rest he could, it would be an early morning. Pansy could no longer take us looking at each other, and stalked out of the common room, slamming the doors behind her.
Blaise, always so quiet, burst out laughing, "How is it you always manage to push her buttons, Astoria?" I shrugged my shoulders, smiling smugly to myself.
"She's learned a lot from aunt Bellatrix", drawled Draco, it's true. I had learned a lot from Bellatrix Lestrange, she had escaped from Azkaban only a few months earlier, but spending only a weekend, at the beginning of the term, which we weren't necessarily allowed to do, at his family's manor, she had given me thorough lessons.
Draco's eyes showed admiration, some would call them cold, but to me they were cunning, the same icy shade as mine. We were in our fifth year, Voldemort just returned, and only Death Eater families had any clue he was back, aside from the filthy, mudblood loving, Harry Potter. The Dark Lord and I had just met months earlier, on my sixteenth birthday, only a few days after Draco's. Seeing someone like him, walking through the corridors of Malfoy Manor, was a strange sight indeed. Nagini was trailing at his feet as Bellatrix escorted him into the library, where Draco and I were relaxing, I was observing him as he read through a most interesting book about the Dark Arts.
"Bella, you may leave us." He said in his silky voice. That was the only thing that alerted us to his soundless entrance; I felt the blood leave my face. Draco and I stood at once, with a customary greeting of "my Lord", which we had been warned by Snape, to use.
"I have heard rumors you have both turned 16, is this true?" we both nodded our heads. "Ah wonderful", he continued, "I have a type of proposal for you both, I need a spy, at Hogwarts, Severus serves me well, but he is too questioned by others. You both would be much more…inconspicuous." His red eyes glinted malevolently in the dim light offered by the fireplace.
How do you turn down the Dark Lord? You can't, so of course we agreed. What we weren't aware of, was exactly what we were agreeing to. When he motioned for us to hold our left arms out, it quickly became known. There was a searing, burning, aching pain, where his wand touched my arm, burned into my pale skin was the Dark Mark. We were bid goodbye, and as quickly as he had come, he was gone, leaving Draco and I both rather disheveled.
Draco stroked my arm where the mark laid, secretly under my shirts sleeves, bringing me out of my memories, and back to the future.
"What I don't understand, is why on Earth Parkinson is so obsessed with Draco, when she's with you Blaise." I said coldly.
"We won't be lasting much longer." He said, with no bad emotions whatsoever, impressive, I thought.
"Eyes on another Zabini?" questioned Draco scoffing, Blaise gave a slight nod. I just happened to glance up at the clock; realizing dinner would soon be being served. It had been a long day, and watching Draco's Quidditch practice in the rain had left me feeling strung out.
"It's almost time to eat." I whispered to Draco, he lifted himself up off my lap.
"Before we leave, are you bunking with me tonight? If so I want to make sure all your clothes for tomorrow are in my room." He said casually, I nodded impatiently, simply wanting to eat. Technically, sleeping with he was definitely not allowed, but everyone knew better than to mention anything to a professor, besides, Snape knew. As a fellow Death Eater, he and I sleeping together was the least of Snapes concerns. It didn't matter to Draco's family, and my family was dead, or a traitor. I no longer spoke to my sister Daphne, a traitor if I ever knew one, in fact after the deaths; I legally changed my last name from Greengrass, to Morte. We both inherited houses after my parents' death, but I practically lived at the Malfoys now anyways. I quickly swept my wand across my hair, brushing any tangles out of it. There rarely was, being half Veela came with its perks. I'm of a rare type though, rather than having golden hair, it's black as pitch, my most defining characteristic, but it sweeps down to bellow my butt.
As we walk out of the dungeon, I slip my hand in Draco's, he walks confidently, as do I, head held high. First years, even Slytherin first years, eye us with fear, good, let them be afraid, I think to myself, I stroke along Draco's mark through his sleeve, I know there is still a burning sensation sometimes. I feel it as well, when the Dark Lord calls upon us to meet him. Draco and I are exempt from these meetings for now, but that doesn't ease the discomfort.