It was always the same, waking up in a cold sweat confused. Trying to catch my breath was the easiest part, but trying to forget the dream was the hardest. The dream was always about my first encounter with a man, a powerful man. This mans name was Voldemort. His name brought chills to even the bravest witches and wizards. Our first encounter was not a pleasant one, but the details I won't go into yet. The dream ended though in a blinding flash of red light and then just waking up.

I got up from my sinking double bed, the down feather mattress worn from years of long nights of sleep. My room was in the upper-most floor of the large manor I lived in. The ceiling had a domed atrium-type window covered with vines. The half of the walls were covered with star charts and drawings I had made over the years. The other half was covered with bookshelves full of spell books from my previous five years of schooling and reading for my own time. There was a small night stand by my bed which held a few candle stubs used for night reading, a half read book about charms, some coins and a picture of my friends from school.

I move from my bed, shaky from the dream that had just haunted me once again, and make my way to the bathroom connected to my room. The bathroom is small, only holding a claw-footed tub, a sink with a large mirror hanging over it and a dresser placed below the small window. The tub was littered with special oils and salts. Candles were melted to the sides, signs of quiet candle lit baths and reading. I walk to the sink and wash my face and throw my hair up in a messy bun. There's a pile of clothing in the corner by the dresser and I grabbed a white tshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants and dressed before heading downstairs.

The hallway leading from my room to the main staircase was dimly lit. Large portraits with grand trim lined the walls. The photographs moved like all portraits in the wizarding world. The portraits were of our ancestors. Their grim faces followed me as I walked down the corridor. The main stairway was much lighter than the hall by my room because there were large windows on one of the walls. Even though it was lighter the atmosphere was still dark and forboding, as the whole manor had held since last year.

I walked down the remaining two flights of the three story manor and came to the entry hall. The hall had a large runner on the floor with an extravagant design of magical creatures. There were more portraits and a large chandelier was hanging by the large front door. The first opening on the left of the hall was the extravagant sitting room. There were plush chairs gathered around a large fire and a grand piano in the corner. The next room down was where the large dining room was located. This is where meetings are held with the dark lord, however it was now set for breakfast. The new house elf had set an array of foods on the long mahogony table. Narcissa, my aunt was at the head of the table farthest away by the grand fireplace that was lowly lit, emitting a strange warmth.

"Goodmorning Enya," Narcissa beamed up at me while cutting her toast in half.

"Morning," I sleepily smile back.

"Come sit and have a spot to eat," I shuffle over. My cousin, Draco, is nowhere to be seen.

I sit down and look around, it's just me and Narcissa. She is focused on her toast now, spreading marmalade over them. I grab a plate and scoop some of the steaming eggs and grab a slice of toast as well. Before I dig in, my belly tickling with hunger, I break the silence.

"Where's Draco? His door was closed when I walked by," this was unsual for Draco. He didn't make it a habit of sleeping in.

"I think he's getting rest before today," at the moment she uttered the words today my stomach lurched.

Today was the day, the day we perform the intiation ceremony. I'd forgotten. I don't know how but I'd forgotten. The initiation ceremony was to become non-other-than a death eater. Death eaters were the followers of Voldemort. This initiation, for me, was not a choice. It's painful, challenging, and involves being marked with something you can never take back. My mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, being the most loyal of death eaters made this choice for me. She wants me to follower in her steps once Voldemort overtakes the wizarding world. I don't understand how I'd forgotten this would be happening today.

"Oh, yes, today is the day. I'd almost forgotten," I tried to laugh lightly. "Are we leaving soon?"

"Yes, just after breakfast. Try to eat something. I've never been through the ceremony, but Lucious has and it does take some out of you," she saw my face drop, "I know you'll do just fine though, you're so strong."

She reached for my hand that was fiddling anxiously with the butterknife next to plate. She has been such a mother figure in my life, more than my mother ever was. My mother was imprisoned when I was young, too young for me to remember her. Narcissa, though, has been through everything with me. She listened to my owls I sent to her in my first year at Hogwarts, which has me sorted into Gryffindor.

"Thank you," I look over half smiling trying to hide my fear.

We finish the rest of breakfast in silence. As I get up to go to my room and change into the dress for the ceremony Draco enters the room. He's paler than usual, but I'm sure only I notice. This is because I only know how nervous he is. He's only talked to me about it a few time but he's afraid of what will happen if he fails as a death eater.

"Hullo Draco," I stand in front of the table.

"Hi, err," he hesitated and quitely whispers to me as I pass by him to leave, "are you ready."

I stop and look down thinking, "As ready as I'll ever be," I say quietly looking at him assuringly as possible.