DISCLAIMER – None belong to me, just fooling around with J.K's characters!
AUTHOR'S NOTE – Just a little something I thought up, but I have a lot more ideas for it, it's up to you if you want more, or think I should just stop here. Remember, reviews make me type faster! =) Dedicated to Aida and Jas, my two best buddies! Maybe we'll see some of Jas' stuff soon… and Aida's fics are, like, really, really good, go and read them! Her pen name is Calex, gp check it out!
RATING – PG 13/R. (Just to be safe) Lots of blood, I guess… does that make this an R?
THE COMING OF AGE
Draco sat at a desk, aimlessly killing moths alone in the dark. The room was gloomy and the very air he breathed in oppressive, the only illumination was that of the wall sconces and a poor light that was; but even the moon hid, shrouded by heavy clouds that veiled its silvery light. The room he was in was huge, but dusty from being unused for the past few years. More like past few centuries, Draco groused silently as he sneezed yet again for what seemed to be the zillionth time. Leaning back in a large, cumbersome-looking thing he supposed was a chair, he surveyed the room through narrowed eyes. Heavy, moth-eaten draperies; a once-plush carpet, now something he wouldn't even call a rag; heavy, antique looking furniture; paintings with colours that were dulled by layers of grime and dust. Very not in the running for the grand prize, he thought sardonically, unless of course, the competition was for the 'Most Rundown Mansion of The Year'. Then it would win hands down. He sneezed again, violently.
What was he doing here?
Sure, his father told him to wait here while he attended some 'most pressing matters', but what was he doing here? He hardly ever followed his father when doing important things. So what was he doing here? Unless……
No.
No!
Dammit!!
Had his father brought him in here to get the Mark? But… he didn't want it! How does one tell Voldemort 'no'? It was impossible, unless he had a death wish.
He sat down heavily on an overstuffed chair, raising a cloud of dust, which he waved away impatiently. Dropping his head into his hands, he pondered his options. One, he could attempt to talk his father out of it. Which probably won't work, his father had dreamed of this since the day he was born.
Two, he could try to convince Voldemort that he didn't need the Mark, which would result in a near-certain death sentence, either for him or his father, or the both of them. Which wouldn't be good, would it?
No, not really.
Three, he could try to run for his life which would be a lot worse than dying, in the long run. His father would hunt him down, and fully murder him, or Voldemort could kill his father for raising such an irresponsible child and heir. Either way, there would be a lot of killing. And blood. Draco shuddered. He never told anybody, but he couldn't stand the sight of blood, it made him squeamish. Or maybe no blood, after all, a simple 'Avada Kedavra' could just solve the problem.
Fourth, he could kill himself right now, and leave a goodbye note. Immediately, he rejected the idea. It would be stupid to commit suicide and then realize there was no plan to give him the Mark, anyway. He could just see it now:-
"Draco? Draco? *pause* Oh Merlin! Help!! He's dead! Wait, he wrote a note. *rustle of paper* What??? What Mark? Draco, you stupid, stupid boy! I just came here to talk to MacNair! There were no plans to get you to take the Mark!
~*~*~*~
Draco rolled his eyes at the scenes running through his agile imagination. He really should get down to thinking up an escape route. Besides, it was cowardly to even contemplate taking the easy way out. His fingers danced a lively jig on his knee as he thought, discarded idea, thought, and discarded the ideas yet again. After ten minutes, he gave up and sat back in his chair, waiting for something to happen.
~*~*~*~
His chin was touching his chest in slumber when the heavy oak door creaked open. Jerking up, he squinted at the bright light pouring in before going, "Father?"
Lucius beckoned to him imperiously, his rings glinting in the bright light and turned on his heel before stalking out. Draco ran his fingers through his hair, noting with distaste that his fingers were blackened by dust. Nevertheless, he dutifully ran after his father and fell in step.
After a few minutes of tense silence, he turned to his father, almost timidly.
"Father?"
Lucius grunted in response.
"Um… where are we going?"
Lucius slanted a sharp gaze towards his blonde son, his only heir.
"To do you a favour you'll be thanking me for when you understand better."
Draco's heart fell when he heard that, all his meager hopes hitting the cold stone floor with a thud. It suddenly felt like he had fallen a long, long, way, and his stomach had yet to catch up with the rest of him.
"Am I getting my Mark, then?"
"Yes."
And with that, Draco died. Not literally, of course, but inside. He never wanted to be like his father, he was just waiting to move out the minute he turned eighteen, wanted to get the hell out from under his father's thumb. He sighed.
~*~*~*~
They entered a large hall, and Draco looked around him with no small amount of awe. It was huge. Huge with a capital H. The floor was of polished, gleaming black marble and so were the pillars. There was a large, ornately carved throne made of ivory at the end of the hall, with a plush blood-red carpet leading up to it. And matching heavy silk draperies adorned the floor-to-ceiling windows. Who said bad guys couldn't have good taste? On either side of the carpet were Death Eaters, all of them kneeling, chanting some ancient verses or something. Draco's father tried to make him learn, but he just couldn't seem to get them in his head, so his father gave up after a while. Now he totally wished he had paid attention, it all seemed so… intriguing. And then the Dark Lord spoke.
"Lucius… is this the boy?" Draco was startled; he had been so engrossed in his surroundings he had totally forgotten why he was here.
"Yes, Master… this is my son, Draco," Lucius returned silkily, his hand coming up behind Draco to push him forward. Draco hesitated for a split second before he was dragged down onto his knees before the hideous visage of the feared Dark lord, Voldemort.
Ok, not hideous. He actually looked…… normal. If you counted having bright red eyes normal, then yeah, he looked normal. Surprisingly. Pretty good looking too, chiseled features… nice hair… mmm…
Idiot! Draco scolded himself. The Dark Lord is an expert in Occlumency!! He looked up fearfully, expecting to be waltzing through the gates of Hell in about five seconds.
"So, I'm good looking?"
Shit!!!
"Don't swear, my boy. Most unsavoury, especially from a young man of your social standing."
Oh Merlin, he's going to kill me! Or Father will.
Shouldn't I stop talking in my head now?
The sound of laughter, albeit rusty from misuse but still, laughter, rang out through the hall. Draco cringed in embarrassment and a considerable amount of fear, his pale skin turning bright pink as he considered tunneling through the floor in a bid to escape this all-encompassing humiliation. This was worse than being turned into a ferret! At least that was in school, in front of stupid schoolmates. This was in front of the Dark Lord, surrounded by fully-grown Death Eaters.
Could someone just kill him now? Please?
~*~*~*~
Nobody killed him.
And that was why he found himself dressed in heavy ceremonial robes, his pale arm stretched out in front of Voldemort, his heart beating a rapid tattoo within his chest. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to start, willing the fear that pounded dully in his head to go away. For after this, fear would have no place in his life.
He was seething with fear, anger, reluctance, resentment, and sadness. This was the moment of decision; there was no turning back. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. Forever. He tried to get rid of the lump forming in his throat to no avail as he felt the cold tip of a wand trace a pattern on the bare skin of his forearm gently, even lovingly. Then, a whispered "Morsmodre" and the light pattern on his skin cut deep into his flesh, inscribing it into the core of his very soul. He could feel it, the darkness, the inky blackness seeping into his soul, him, every fiber of his being was being marked as the property of the Dark Lord, and he quivered with the emotional overload of it all. He screamed aloud as he felt the dark power coursing through his veins, fundamentally changing the very basis of his character, traveling from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair.
In that space of that four to five seconds, Draco grew up. Changed forever, never to be the boy he had once been, now a man. He had come of age, so to speak.
He knelt at the feet of his Lord, kissed the hem of his black robes reverently.
"My Lord."
Such worship, it resonated in the timbre of his voice, echoed in the now-silent hall. Incense burning at the ceremonial alter sent thin fumes of fragrance throughout the room, lending an otherworldly air to the place as hundreds of eyes focused on the scene of a boy, now a boy no longer, a man, as he knelt at the feet of his Master.
~*~*~*~
Draco stood up gracefully, realizing he had gone through some very extensive physical changes. Chancing a glance at the Dark Lord, he smiled uncertainly, wondering exactly what the bleeding hell was going on. Nobody told him about physical changes. Come to think of it, no one told him about the pain, either. No one told him anything! He was sooo unprepared for this!
Then the Dark lord spoke.
"Draco, before you are to be initiated, you have just one more thing to do," he gestured towards a Muggle girl. She was bound tightly, and gagged. "Kill her."
"What?"
"Do you question me?"
"No."
Levitating her, he brought her body over to where he was, smiling at her ferally. Instinct took over, and all uncertainty fled as he undressed her slowly, baring her fresh young body to all present as she struggled weakly, her blue eyes filing with tears of humiliation and fear, the tears running down her cheeks to dampen her gag.
"Shhhh…" he whispered, his voice caressing her senses like velvet, soothing her. "This will only hurt a little, my sweet."
Drawing a silver dagger, its honed edge flashing in the flickering light of the torches, he traced a line down her skin, beginning from the hollow between her collarbones, down the valley between her breasts, to end above her pubic hair. He stepped back, watching with satisfaction the blood welling up, her life essence. It was beautiful, the contrast of blood and ivory skin. He couldn't help himself, he leaned down and traced the line of blood with his tongue, taking pleasure in the coppery taste of it.
Beautiful.
Exquisite.
Moaning in pleasure, his heartbeat quickened as he made another line down the side of her neck, applying more pressure this time and quickly lapping up the blood that soon appeared, he felt like he was in seventh heaven.
More.
He wanted more.
Suddenly, he became aware of his surroundings, that the girl was screaming through the gag. Looking at her, her eyes spoke of betrayal.
But what did I do?
Oh yeah.
"I'm sorry, sweet..." he murmured, lifting his dagger above his head. "Now it won't hurt any more. I promise." The dagger buried itself in her stomach and she bucked wildly, her eyes full of pain. The blood lust growing in Draco reached its crescendo when he saw the blood pooling in the concave hollow of her stomach, and he took her in his arms, slurping hungrily as her movements slowly became sluggish and weak. When her head fell back, her azure eyes glazed in death, he looked up slowly, his face smeared with blood. Licking his lips, he looked towards his Master.
"More, please?"
A/N: No, I have not forgotten that Draco does not like blood. This is just to illustrate how much he has changed, and you guys have the veto power to decide if this should stop here and be a gruesome one-shot, or a WIP (work in progress). Just to be clear, I don't usually write gore like this, so I would really appreciate it if you guys reviewed and told me your opinions on the story, and whether there is room for improvement!
Oh, yeah. He changes physically too… If you guys wanna know what he looks like, review and ask for WIP! hehe… =D
Cheers!
Nicki