Full Summary: Ever since her second year at Hogwarts, Daphne has focused on two things: Making top grades and keeping an eye on her younger brother. But what happens when her brother does the unthinkable and accidentally drags her down with him? Now a Deatheater, Daphne is forced to do things that haunt her deepest nightmares. Only one person can help her now.
AN/Disclaimer: Okay, this story is in a bit of a 'roough draft' mode, so go easy on it. Also, I don't claim to own Harry Potter or and of it's canon characters. Those things are sole property of J.K. Rowling herself.
It hardly mattered to me anymore, all of this. My arm burned where the shining black mark was tattooed, a constant reminder of what I'd chosen. A part of me was proud of myself. Proud that I was strong enough to protect my younger brother no matter the costs. But the other part was louder, the part that said I had just made the biggest mistake of my life. I could still hear her mind yelling at me to run, to just get out of there. If Derek hadn't been so influenced by his friends or even if I hadn't glamorized Slytherin so much in my brother's eyes before he had enrolled in Hogwarts, maybe things would have been easier. I just wanted my life back.
So here I sat, alone in this dusty, worn down room, my long blond hair limp and tired looking. I was dirty, not having showered in the past six days. The Riddle House was apparently no longer equipped with such necessities as running water. After making the decision to join Voldemort's forces, this was where I had been taken. The Dark Lord, I had been told, had more important things to deal with currently, and that Bellatrix Lestrange was to mark me, initiate me, and then send me back to school. All I wanted was to get out of there.
The torn curtain that tried to cover my window whipped about noisily, tossed by a steady breeze entering through the broken glass. I was huddled on a large four-poster that dominated the room; once majestic and imposing, time had taken its toll on it just as it had the entire house. It seemed to me that everything in the mansion that had once been worth something was now worth nothing. When I let my mind wander, the house became my own, destroyed after a great battle within. Though I knew that the real Greengrass Manor was as splendorous and untouched as always, the similarities between the two continually caught me off guard. I couldn't shut out the morbid thoughts.
As I held myself on that large tattered bed, I wondered how my destiny could possibly drive me towards this direction. 'I suppose you can't avoid the inevitable' a small voice in my head taunted me. I just rolled my eyes, mentally kicking the owner of the voice in the mouth, hoping to shut it up for good. Still trapped within my thoughts, I didn't hear the man enter my room.
"Lady Lestrange will speak with you now, Daphne." The sonorous voice of Severus Snape carried the words to my ear, his tone telling me more than the man would ever know. I now knew that Snape was just as disgusted by the living conditions as I, that my professor was worried about the meeting, and he thought I could never prepare myself for the gaze of the Dark Lord, such a gaze that would tear into the deepest regions of my mind. Behind my professor, I caught sight of a head of blonde hair. Derek.
A sudden bitter hatred swelled up inside me, and I targeted my younger brother with it. I knew it would be better to test myself on Derek than go to one of the most dangerous Deatheaters seething with hidden rage.
"I suppose you're happy now, then, Derek?!" I accused venomously, letting my voice rise. "You found a new recruit to the cause?"
Derek just stared at the ground, apparently ashamed to see that he had gotten me into this mess. I just started back stubbornly, dwarfed as I remained curled on the bed while cradling my freshly burned arm to my chest. Then, for the first time in almost a week, Derek made eye contact with me. In that sole moment, I saw thousands of emotions. Pity, jealously, sadness, smugness, all mixed together, but what I saw the most was remorse. I heard Snape clear his throat, breaking me from my trance. "Miss Greengrass, I'm afraid if you don't quicken your step, I'll simply have to leave you with your self-pity, festering with fleas."
He had said the right words: I was neither angry nor unwilling to get up any longer. The thought of fleas making me their host sent me into a sort of psychopathic frenzy, eliminating the anger that would make myself incapable of clouding my mind; my desire to distance myself from the bed forcing me onward to my last bit of initiation.
The loose floorboards creaked and settled dust flew into the air as our little trio made our way down the stairwell to the dungeons. I felt the temperature drop. We must have been underground by now. In an attempt to shield myself from the cold, I hugged my body with my arms, making sure that nothing came in contact with the searing brand on my pale skin.
Finally reaching the correct room, Snape gave an abrupt stop. Outside the door were two black robes and two masks. Deatheater attire. At first, I thought one was for me, but then I saw both Derek and Snape begin to slide them on, pulling the hoods over their heads and the masks over their faces. No. I would be going in just as I was. Being able to see no one but allowing them all to see me.
Snape pushed the door open as it gave a loud creak. My mouth felt dry and my palms were sweating. I wiped them on my dirty school skirt, the same one I had been wearing for six days, and followed the two into the room. The cell door had shut behind us, leaving the room engulfed in total darkness. Seconds after, I heard a whooshing sound, and large, wax candles were magically lighted around us. At first, I couldn't make out a single figure in the room, but after a few minutes my eyes adjusted. I secretly scanned the room, making sure to keep my head down, and saw the same outfits as those that my brother and professor had put on. Some were worn by larges figures, some by smaller, younger figures, but I couldn't recognize anyone. It was only when one tall, lanky cloaked figure stepped forward and took off her mask that I recognized her as Bellatrix Lestrange, the same woman who had only recently tainted my flesh with the Dark Mark.
"Well, Miss Greengrass, have you prepared yourself?"
AN: A bit of a cliff hanger? Stay with me. people. No other chapters will be this short. So, if you like it, go ahead and scroll down and put this story on your alerts! Also, review while your at it! Make sure that it is constructive criticism, not just unhelpful flames. Thanks 3