Rewrite The Stars
Chapter 1: Burn
A/N: Rewrite of my discontinued and soon deleted story, Two Different Snakes. I've just recently become obsessed with the song 'Rewrite The Stars' and now realise that it really is the perfect title for this fan-fiction. Reviews are always appreciated! Enjoy! :)
It burned. Draco winced as the Dark Lord cast the curse that engraved the skull and snake into his skin. Bellatrix was grinning from ear to ear, but his mother had turned away slightly and was clutching his fathers arm. His father's expression had a forced smile but his eyes looked scared and unsettled. Draco had found that you could always tell a persons feelings by their eyes. An hour before, his father had pleaded with Lord Voldemort to not burn Draco with the Dark Mark. Draco knew this as he had been listening to the conversation himself.
AN HOUR BEFORE
"Please, my Lord...he is too young." a cracked voice muttered.
"Nonsense Lucius, he will learn sooner, besides, young ones are strong." the Dark Lord said smoothly.
"Please...my Lord...he is a child...please."
"Do you really not wish for you son to join my ranks?"
"No...my lord misunderstands... Draco is young.."
"Quiet. Crucio." Lord Voldemort said shortly.
Screams filled the air.
PRESENT
Voldemort was grinning as he chanted in Parseltongue, making the skull and snake on Draco's arm appear clearer and blacker. He stopped chanting. The snake slithering out of the skull's mouth wriggled and for a moment the eyes on the skull turned a bright emerald green. The Mark's writhing stopped. Draco restrained the tear that was threatening to run down his face, bowed, got up, and left. "Wait Draco." a cold voice said from the back of the room. "We must discuss your...ah...mission."
As he apparated back outside the gates of Hogwarts that night, the Mark was wrapped in a yellowed tourniquet. Just after the meeting, dark blood had began to flow from the skull and snake, and Draco had taken a cloth from the house to stop the flow of blood. Draco looked up at Hogwarts, thinking about the dark job his master had given him and allowed himself to scream. The scream was long and cold and it filled the dark night's air with the young Death Eater's misery and anxiety.