Okay...So I haven't posted anything for about three years...So there's that! Hopefully I have improved since the. You'll never know because I deleted the old stories. (Burn all the cringe worthy puns! Burn them all!)
Just so it's clear this is Dramione. So if that's not your thing then *gestures to imaginary door*. It's also only an M because I like the freedom to swear and use violence (it's always the answer), no smut. Probably.
Speaking of violence this chapter contains: torture and mild gore.
Special shout to my friend belboes42 (wattpad) for helping me with this chapter. Her stories are super fluffy and cute, check her out if that's what you're in to.
The pain was agonizing. I refused to scream or display my agony. Tears formed at the back of my eyes but I blinked them away. I bit my tongue to hold back a scream. The pain increased, I bit harder, tasted iron. The blood in my mouth was nothing compared to all the blood on the floor. What is it all mine? It was ironic, I had seen hundreds of people's blood on this floor, some of which I spilled myself, but I never thought I'd see my own on it. My blood spilled onto the floor, the dark crimson contrasting with the white marble, in my own fucking house. Not that it was my house anymore, it hadn't been my house for years. It was his. It was his the moment he moved in. I cursed my father for giving in and handing over my house. He was so desperate to please, like a bloody lapdog. The Dark Lord says jump.
I heard a scream of frustration. It was not mine. The pain retreated to a dull burning. I rolled my head so that I could meet her eyes. She was frustrated, she wanted to hear me scream. That's why she offered to be the one to inflict my pain. Some fucking family. My aunt, lapdog number two. She was insane, taking pleasure in administering pain. Then again, you have to be some kind of crazy to follow Voldemort. In my opinion, everyone in this sodding war is psychotic. The Death Eaters eat up everything Voldemort says and follow each order with a shit eating grin, however immoral it is. Saint Potter and his troops are fighting a war they can't win. Where on earth do I fit in. Blood traitor, deatheater. I'm stuck in the middle.
I look down at my blood again, ignoring Bellatrix's frantically pacing figure. Pureblood, that's what my blood is. It doesn't look any different to the blood of muggles, I would know. It doesn't even look any different to the blood of a mud-... muggleborn. I hate that word. Before the war it was an insult, now it's just a way of classifying people, giving some sick bastard an excuse to murder men, women and children. That reminds me of why of why I'm lying in a pool of my own blood in my drawing room. I don't mean what I've being doing for the past 3 years, that is always fresh in my mind. I mean how I got caught. The Dark Lord had been suspicious for a while, he knew there was a traitor in the ranks. It was my fault, I kept slipping up. Don't get me wrong, I'd do everything I did again, but that time I wouldn't get caught.
It was a trap; I knew that as soon as I was given the mission. They didn't need three Death Eaters to take out a muggle family with a magical child.
The door swung shut behind me. I stood there. Not moving. It was over. I had been found out. Everything was gone. I ran my hands through my hair. I threw my hood over my head so that it obscured most of my face. I walked briskly towards the meeting point for the mission. I shoved my hands into my pockets, finding a small scrap of paper. I conjured a pen and wrote swiftly, for fear of being caught. I held the paper up to my face, it read 'Abort'. I tapped the edge of the paper with my wand and watched as it caught alight in purple flame. They got the message, that's all that matters. It was traceable but it didn't matter, it was too late to worry about any of that anymore. Not when you are walking to your death. I had only learned of my imminent death a few moments ago, yet somehow I was prepared. In some way I had been prepared since the first message. No. Before then, since He rose again. I've known death was near for a long time, a looming, ominous presence looking over my shoulder, breathing down my neck. Waiting, patiently, for the right time. Even with this constant reminder of risk, I pushed. I played a game with the Dark Lord, I danced around him, taunted him but I had slipped. I flew too close to the sun and like Icarus my wings have failed me. Check. Mate.
"I grow tiresome of all this nephew," Bellatrix spat, "I want at least one good decent scream. That's all. I want to hear you sob and beg. I want your cries to reverberate around these walls." She walked around me, she was thinking. I could hear her thinking as she devised a way to get the response she craved. I had to admit I was curious, I knew her torture skills were impeccable, I had witnessed them first hand far too many time. She was slipping, I knew I was harder to crack than most but she had broken the most solid of Order members. Perhaps she was human after all and was having trouble torturing me as she had watched me grow up and actually liked me, maybe she saw me as a son- No, that wasn't it. She was distracted. Something had happened, something the was big enough that Bellatrix was concerned. This was much bigger than me. My Aunt was rarely informed of the lesser things. It also meant I was due for a much less painful death. Yay me.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed. My back arched off the floor as my whole body convulsed from the sensation of being burned, stabbed and choked. Every muscle in my body screamed but I kept my eyes open, still staring her down, still taunting her, urging her to increase the pain. Colours started swimming together, bleeding into each other. I held my jaw steady, clamped together, not letting out the wail of pain that had formed at the back of my throat.
I knocked before entering. The room was bare. It only contained the large throne at which he sat. The room seemed to breath death. It was cold, very cold. A bitter draught hit the back my neck. I knelt on the floor and bowed my head.
"Sir, you called for me." The cold sternness of my own voice used to scare me; it reminded me of what I was ... what I would always be. I'm used to it now, I guess I've accepted what I am.
"Stand." The command was harsh and his voice was grim. "It is a simple task and I expect it to be done swiftly and cleanly. You shall be eliminating a muggle born family and their mudblood child." I tried not to flinch as his words. I hated these tasks. I also hated how he said the word mudblood, like the mere word was making him unclean, he spat it out with hiss. I remained emotionless, my mask intact. After years of putting up the mask which hid all emotion it had become second nature, almost like breathing.
"Rodolphus and Nott shall be joining you. You shall leave immediately. You are dismissed." Voldemort waved his hand in a gesture for me to leave.
And just like that, I knew I was going to die. Voldemort had known about a snitch for a few months, took him long enough to find out, I guess he had narrowed the list of suspects down. I bowed and turned swiftly, my cloak bellowing behind me. My footsteps echoed in the big empty hall. He didn't need three people to take out a muggle family.
"Enough!" The pain receded once more. This time I relished it. I took deep, heavy breaths and tried to regain my resolve. I felt like was drifting and sinking at the same time. The pain could have lasted for seconds or possibly hours but I couldn't have said which. Bellatrix's sharp, piercing voice brought me back to the situation at hand. "It is time for the real suffering." She snapped her fingers and instantly a small house elf appeared with a pop. He was gripping his dirty rags in his hands tightly, so tight that his knuckles had turned white. The small elf seemed to shake with fear. I recognized him, he belonged to Bellatrix but served many other Death Eaters, including myself. I liked him. He turned to me with tearful eyes, they were wide with fear.
"Give me your hands." Bellatrix commanded the elf. The elf stood frozen. "Now!" Bellatrix shrieked. The elf held out his hands. "Palms up.". The elf obliged. Bellatrix snapped her fingers again and a wand appeared in her hand. My wand. She then dropped my wand into the elf's hands. The elf looked from me to my aunt uncertainly.
"Well, Draco, since I can't make you scream…" She trailed off into an evil cackle. She wanted me to beg. God she was sick. My mask remained on my face, she wasn't getting anything from me. After a few minutes her cackling stopped. She had figured out that I wouldn't snap. I was prepared to die. My wand really wasn't that important at this point.
"I see. You are going to let a small, sniveling, pathetic house elf snap your wand. Magic is what separates us from the animals that are muggles and you are going to let me destroy that." She had come closer and said the last words directly into my ear. She pulled back and looked at my face. Waiting for my response. I spat in her face. She screeched in frustration. She used the back of her hand to wipe off the bloody spit. "BREAK IT!"
The elf looked down at his hands and looked to me. As his eyes met mine I saw something shimmer in them. Courage. With a click of his fingers he was beside me. Before I could understand what was happening I was being apparated away. Then everything went black
A little dizzy from the sudden apparition, I thought I would be used to it by now, I took two slow steady steps forward while discreetly pulling out my wand. I took in a long even breath of the forest air. The thin trees swayed gently as a subtle breeze past through them. It was cold, but bearable. I took another step forward until there was a small distance between me and them. I had my back to them but I knew that Nott and Rodolphus had remained still.
It is said that you should never turn your back to your enemy but I disagree. A disadvantage can be turned around as it enables me to predict the moves of those that I'm fighting. I know for a fact that Nott and Rodolphus have no moral qualms with attacking a man when his back is turned. Hell, I'm certain they would kill me in my sleep if they had a chance.
"So," I started, interrupting the foreboding silence "How far is the muggle house from here?". I waited precisely two second before throwing myself to the ground. Catching myself on one hand I narrowly missed the curses that were hurled my way. Twisting around I sent two body binding curse their way before scrambling to my feet and running away. I needed to get far enough away so that I could apparated smoothly; the last thing I wanted was to splinched.
The harsh wind tore against my face bitterly. My robes were torn from the brambles and thorns I was running through. I panted heavily from the effort of sprinting at such high speed. I could see a clearing through the trees; if only I could reach it, I could apparate. But where? All of my normal hideouts were known to the pricks with pointy hats, I would just have to take my chances with the order.
I had barely made it to the edge of the clearing before Nott caught up with me. I hadn't heard or seen him at first and I still wince every time I remember how stupid I was, in my defence I was preoccupied with trying to save my own skin.
Nott cast a curse which just brushed past my ear and hit a tree which caught alight in a sinister purple flame. He was toying with me; he could have hit me if he wanted to. I pushed myself off the ground in one fluid motion before taking off at high speed towards the clearing whilst casting a jelly-legs jinx over my shoulder. I didn't get to see Nott fall face first into the dirt but I still smirked anyway.
I spun around so that I was facing the young deatheater and swiftly disarmed him. Dropping the wand to the ground instantly I brought my heel down it which resulted in a satisfying crunch.
"Are you quite done?", I whipped around to see Rodolphus leaning against a nearby tree. He didn't look out of breath which meant he knew these woods well enough to predict where I would be and apparate there. Who knows how long he had been standing there. I cursed myself for not being prepared for this. However shocked I felt I didn't even flinch. We stood for an eternity with our wands pointed at each other. Ridiculous, the sick avatars, probably had this planned from the start. He liked a good chase.
"Get up." Rodolphus said addressing Nott without losing eye contact,"You look pathetic". Nott scrambled to his feet using a tree as support. He was sweating from the effort, obviously the hex had let to wear off.
Nott had never had the patience to learn landless magic so I figured I wasn't under threat from him, however assuming that Rodolphus planned this all there was probably a lot to this. I primarily thought that there was an ambush but it was unlikely as the death eaters were... well short staffed at this period in time as most of them were recruiting overseas. Rodolphus was an unpredictable pillock so they only way to be sure was legilimency.
Growing up I had two teachers of this subject: my batshit aunt and the half blood sodding Prince. Whilst Bellatrix was more partial to the mental equivalent of a battering ram smashing into her subject's defences (which gives her victims the worst headache that a human being can be subjected to without dieing, believe me I would know) , Severus taught me how to sneak undetected into a mind. Granted it only really works on the weak minded or insane. Luckily I think Rodolphus falls into the latter.
Being inside his mind was very much like jumping into a pool of rotting death. It was dark, disgusting and sickly twisted. It wasn't hard to find his current thoughts "Only a few more moments now and she'll be here. This was so much easier than expected. She's going to be so disappointed in her cousin; putting up such a weak fight".
If I was going down, I sure as hell was going to be dragged kicking and screaming. I reckoned that I could hit them both with Sectumsempra before they even had time to move. It was my own variation of Severus' Sectumsempra. I say variation but all I did was make it non-verbal as it I was ceen to keep it from my fellow death eaters It was also easier to use to 'fake' a serious attack in battle; all I had to do was avoid the arteries and make one small incision in an area that was safe, blood was come squirting out but they were most likely walk away from it, and my fellow deatheater just assumed that I had poor aim. As if.
The hand movement was also very simple: short and sharp slash was all it took. I took a slow steadying breath. Inhaled slowly. And as I exhaled I slashed my wand left then right. Rodolphus raised his wand and was halfway through the killing curse before a bright light severing his wand hand and slit Nott's throat. Rodolphus screamed in agony at the blood squirting from his arm. Nott made a few gargled sobs as he slid down the tree he was leaning on. His eyes turned glassy.
My heart pounded in my ears as it hit me, "There is no coming back from this. It's the end" I ' screaming faded into the background, "I can't run, she'll catch me. Even if she doesn't, where else can I go?"
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't hear my aunt arrive until she started cackling at the mess I had.
"Nice shot, cousin. Guess he'll have to be left handed from now on."
"I was aiming form his head.
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