Disclaimer: Not Mine!!
A/N: So this is a new story, with Draco Malfoy. I've written so many stories so far, I've lost count, but I hope you guys like them. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this first chapter. Oh, and please, just go along with it. Don't leave me any messages about how this didn't happen or that didn't happen. I'm not going along with the seventh book and in my world, it happened. So there. Anyway, please enjoy. Sorry it's short but the next couple of chapters will be longer.
I couldn't believe we'd won.
After four years of fighting, we'd won.
I thought for sure that that stupid Potter and his stupid friends would win this war.
But here I was, standing on the porch of Malfoy Manor while Potter and his friends sat in the Malfoy dungeons below.
Things had looked for me. I had risen, almost drastically in my four years as a Death Eater, to Voldemort's right hand man, while my father, angrily, dropped down to a much lower status. I did what I want now. Voldemort came to me when he needed advice.
Me, a twenty-one year old kid.
"Mister Malfoy, sir?" I turned as a man approached a sneer on his face. He couldn't stand the fact that he had to call me sir. Too bad. That fact made me smirk.
"Yes what is it?" I said, sizing the man up. He was old, way past his prime and no use to the Dark Lord. Gray hair just barely graced the top of his head, though I believe that some of that hair had left and gone to his ears. He was only kept here because he was indeed the oldest remaining Death Eater.
"You're . . . prize is ready to be picked," he drawled.
I clapped me hands together, giving him a curt smile. "Wonderful, bring them forth."
The old man snapped his fingers and I sat down on the top step of my porch. "Just as the Dark Lord requested for his . . . right hand man, you'll be able to choose from six of the most adequate Muggle women we could fine to do whatever you chose."
I smirked as five Death Eaters came out, pushing along five Muggle women, each looking downtrodden. My lip cured up slightly at the sight of them. How disgusting. I wondered vaguely why I couldn't have had at least a half-blood slave. Muggles were dirtier than even the filthiest house-elf.
"Wait," I said, sitting up. "I thought you said six."
"I did –" the old Death eater started but he was cut off.
"Let go of me, ya filthy, bloody son of a –" came a woman's voice.
"Hush your foul tongue, Muggle!" a Death Eater said.
"I'll 'ush your tongue, git! Now let go of me! I'm not goin' to be some brat's slave!"
"Hopefully he won't pick you and I'll get to kill you myself."
The two came into view soon, the Death Eater practically carrying the Muggle as she struggled in his arms cursing and screaming. As soon as they reached the others, he threw her to the ground, using his wand to force her onto her knees and her arms behind her back.
"You foul git! Let me –" she stopped mid-sentence as he pointed his wand at her mouth, Silencing her. Though her mouth was open in a wide shout, no words escaped her, which was probably a good thing because I'm sure all of them were foul.
"Nasty, foul mouth bitch," the Death Eater said, reaching up to take off his mask and revealing a very miffed Blaise Zabini. "That is the last time I do anything for you Malfoy. I don't care what the Dark Lord says. That . . . thing bit me! I'll probably have rabies or something now."
"You'll live," I said, standing and walking down the stairs toward the Muggles.
I simply glanced up the line at the other women, but my eyes came back to the last girl, who glared up at me with dark hazel eyes. I took a moment to take in her appearance, the tattered short, black skirt that showed off rather nice legs. Her white blouse was badly ripped, revealing a creamy light brown shoulder and a slender neck that led to a rather plain face framed by a wild mass of light brown curls.
Leaning forward, I smirked at the girl. "You're a feisty one aren't you?"
The girl's jaw clenched slightly just before she lunged forward, her teeth clicking together as she snapped at me. Blaise grabbed her by her hair and yanked her backwards. "Be careful, Malfoy," he warned. "She can take out pretty good chunks of a guy when she wants too."
"Where'd you find her?" I asked.
"Coming out of a pub in downtown London. She was locking up. I think she worked there."
"A pub? You did checks on all these woman, right?"
"Of course. None of the Muggles have any trace of Wizard's blood and will not be missed."
"Good. . . . I want that one." I pointed my finger at the last girl. She jerked up, her eyes wide with indignation and fear.
"Are you sure that is a wise choice, Mister Malfoy, sir?" the old man said. "It seems wild."
"I said I want that one." I hated having to repeat myself. "She'll do just fine to serve me. Have her taken to her quarters and than brought to my room."
I turned around, heading back towards the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl was screaming against the Silencing charm. House-elves were called forth than, levitating her as she twisted and protested.
She was a wild one, but I'm sure after a few days she could be tamed.
