Power of the Moon
Chapter 2: Trapped
The rain didn't bother her. In fact, she didn't even feel it. It fell all around her but never struck her. Moving across the muddy ground, her movements made no noise. Yet the footfalls of the dogs around her squelched and splashed, scarring the lawn and the flowerbeds. The air was very still. There was no wind to direct the rain. The droplets of water fell perfectly vertically, blotchily darkening the gravel path like an artist's dull palette.
She did not see any of it. Practically gliding across the lawn, she came to the gravel. Not a clatter or a crunch could give her away as she moved up the path. She knew that the master and mistress of the house would be back shortly. She had to be swift. The darkened steps lay ahead. Stone gargoyles with feathery wings and faces like snakes leered at her.
She ignored them. They bore no threat. Serenely passing them, she opened the locked door with ease and slipped inside. No sooner had she heard the lock slide back into place, she made her way across the entrance hall. A grand staircase lay before, nearly all covered by a path of blood red carpet. Following the path towards it, she made no noise. Not a single footfall. The candlelight danced on the tiara she wore and illuminated a box in her arms.
Instead of going up the staircase, she turned and moved down a path of carpet, leading to a partly opened door. Going at the same speed as before, she felt it. She was going the right way. She would find him here.
Not bothering to open the door, she slipped through the gap without much difficulty. There, before her, lay a large drawing room, with busts and vases dotted around the walls of the room, declaring wealth in every aspect. She wasn't interested in them, however. What caught her attention was the room's only occupant.
It was a boy, in his early teens, lightly dozing on a leather sofa. Even though his sleep was very light, he did not hear her move right up close to him. She knew it was he. The boy who would be one of the Chosen few. She ran a few fingers over his face. He would wake soon. She had to move quickly. No sooner had she entered, she was gone.
Oh, God, I am bored. Draco thought this as he lounged about on the luxury leather sofa, half asleep. Oh, I do wish this infernal rain would let up. Yes, rain was lashing the windows and falling so thickly outside that he couldn't see a thing outside. How Mother and Father are going to do all my school shopping today, I don't know! Draco ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. Why was it always raining on the last day of the summer holidays?
Might as well get something to eat. The parents probably won't be back for ages and it's around lunchtime anyway. He opened his eyes and pulled himself off the sofa, feeling strangely tired, as one might feel when you've lying on a sofa for a long time. He exited the lavish drawing room and dragged himself into the Entrance Hall.
CREEAAAK...
A sudden sound coming from the basement study made him jump. It was a deep, ominous creak like someone stepping on a loose floorboard.
Draco thought nothing of it. Probably just the new house-elf; Ren or whatever her name was. He came into the pantry and came to a cupboard where he knew his mother kept sweets and cakes for after dinner. At the back of the cupboard would be the sweets she sent to him during school. She didn't know that he had realised where it was. He was always sure to close the cupboard after stealing something and, if he was careless and left it open, she blamed it on the house-elf. He took the key from its 'secret' place (under the vase that contained a few dark blue flowers) and unlocked it.
He grinned greedily as he reached for a chocolate frog...
CRRRREEEEAAAAAKKK!
Just then, the creak sounded again; this time louder, almost persistent. Draco looked over his shoulder as if expected a stranger to be standing over him. Okay, I think I should have a look. He thought. Doubts crept into his head as he stood up and left the pantry, not bothering to close the cupboard or take out the key. He wasn't allowed down there unless giving his father a message. The basement had been made into a series of studies where his father did his work. As he passed a wall with a collection of fencing foils, he took one down. Might as well. If I use any magic, the Ministry will know it's me because I'm the only person here.
He looked around the Entrance Hall. The creaking sounded again. Yes, it was definitely coming from the basement. Right, I'll take a look down there. If someone's there, I'll get them! He edged toward the door and turned the handle. It was unlocked. Strange; it was nearly always locked. He had even seen his father lock it before he left the house. It opened smoothly without any hindrances. The staircase descending into darkness looked rather foreboding and Draco took a step backwards.
Pull yourself together, boy! The voice of his father sounded in his head. It's all in your mind. There is nothing to be scared of. Just go down there. There's nothing stopping you. You're just being stupid. Draco threw back his hair and raised his weapon. He sneaked down the stone staircase. He frowned as the smell of water lilies hung in the air on the staircase. Odd. Mother doesn't have that sort of perfume. Well, I don't think she does. Then, singing reached his ears, with tinkling piano music,
"T'was Grace...that taught..."
"Who's there?" Draco raised his weapon, out of instinct. It sounded like a duet, a man and a woman combined. He thought they might be back in the drawing room since an old piano rested there but no. The sound was coming from the depths of the basement, "Who's there?"
"...my heart...to fear..."
Someone's down there…He could instantly see the door at the bottom was ajar and light was coming from within the room, "...And, Grace...my fears...relieved..."
Draco pushed open the door a fraction and peered in. Ah, he thought with annoyance, still can't see a thing. I'm going to have to open it. He took a deep breath and kicked the door wide open, raising the foil. As soon as the door was open, the singing stopped abruptly. As though someone had just silenced a gramophone. But there was no gramophone in the study. Nothing there; absolutely nothing was in the book-lined room. Draco frowned. Had Father just been careless and left the light on and the doors unlocked? Draco looked around. There was nothing there. Still, he felt an unbidden chill run up his spine.
Just then, his shadow fell on the bookcase he was looking at. As if there was a light coming from behind him. He cautiously looked around. Perhaps there was a secret tunnel that led into the study. No. No secret tunnel. A box in between two books was giving off a bright white glow, seeming to have a light of its own. After briefly noting that the titles of the books were Bad Enemy Wizards And Righteous Eradicators and New Enigmas Keeping Reserves On Shore, Draco frowned and curiously approached, letting the foil down. He reached out his hand for it but, just before his fingers touched it, it stopped glowing.
He felt almost like he'd discovered some great secret. The reason his father did not allow him into his study. A secret someone had been keeping from him and he had finally found it. At last! I have finally found it! Dropping the foil, ignoring the more potent water lily scent and the fleeting snatch of, "How precious...", he picked it up and opened it eagerly; a greedy and almost malicious grin on his face. The inside of the box was lined with crinkled dark violet silk and resting inside was a silver pendant consisted of a ring with a narrow moon in the middle. Three silver feathers were hanging off the bottom of the metal ring and glittered almost surreally. It was a very fragile and old looking thing. To anyone else it would have looked evil and wicked for some reason and they would be right to do so.
However, to Draco, it was the most beautiful thing in the world, "...did that Grace appear..." He looked at it, hungrily, unaware of the wicked grin spreading over his face. If anyone had been in the room at the time, they would have seen a dramatic change come over the boy. When he had come down, he had been the normal Draco Malfoy he was: cold with an arrogant air, no matter what his expression or feelings were. Now, however, he looked no longer like a boy at all. The wicked grin was still on his face and he was breathing hard in an almost triumphant way, "...the hour...I first..."
Draco ran a finger over its ice cold surface. A exhilarating thrill went up his body. He had the sudden urge to put it on. An urge he could not fight and one he didn't want to fight, "...believed..." He moved his hands to the rope attached to it, dipped his head to put it on and…
"Draco! We're home!"
Draco seemed to snap out of a trance and lowered the pendant. The music too had been silenced but it went unnoticed. He looked toward the door where his parents' voices were coming from. He put the ring pendant back in its box and hurried up the stairs. Should I show this to Father? He thought, as he hid outside the door, waiting for his parents' backs to turn. No, said a voice in his head, he hid it from you. Why should you tell him? No, keep the secret. After all, if he sees you with it, he'll know you were down there.
Draco ducked out of the study as his father turned his back and hurried up the stairs. He managed to hide behind a Ming vase just before his parents turned round. His mother shrugged, "Probably in his room. Forget about him. I'll get the house-elf to make some lunch and…oh, looks like she left the light in your study on again!"
His father sighed, "Again? Honestly, can't she do anything? Not even come to take the bags! Ren! REN!"
Draco waited until the two of them had moved out of the hall along with the numerous shopping bags. I bet they've bought loads of the things for themselves. They always do. They only get me something if I'm there, doing the shopping with them. And they left me in the house on my own, without even asking me if there was anything I wanted!
Wait; what on earth was he thinking? It's that pendant that's doing it. Ever since I looked at it; I've been thinking these weird thoughts. It might even have a spell on it to drive the owner mad. That's probably why Father keeps it down in the basement. So no one else don't go mad. He then felt something that he would never to show on the outside: panic.
I have to get rid of it and quickly! He ran up to his room; unconsciously clutching the box to his chest. Ignoring the staring portraits, he ran; up staircases, along corridors (the Malfoy house was very large, needless to say) and finally to his room. He slammed the door shut in his haste and went out onto the balcony. The rain had stopped at it had started to warm up. Draco hardly noticed. I'll drop it off the balcony. It's old. It's fragile. It'll smash. No one'll notice it's gone. Draco held out the box but then, as he made to loosen his hand, he found he couldn't. His hand seemed to freeze. He couldn't let go! He tried and tried and tried to break his grip until...
But why, though? The crafty voice was back in his head; as the wicked grin crept back onto his face. Why let go? You never know what powers it might have. Powers you could have. You don't know whether it's evil. You just assumed it when you were needlessly panicking. Just put on the pendant. Put on the pendant then you will know all. Do it, Draco. Slip the pendant around your neck. It would be so easy. Your parents would never know. Just put it on, nice and slowly now.
Draco lowered his head to place it round his neck and then paused. This pendant. Just what is it? These thoughts going through my head...why are they coming so easily to me?
His mother's voice came from downstairs, calling him down for lunch. Should he go? Should he leave it to later? This can't wait, Draco! Just put it on! It will only take a second! Just do it, boy! Now! Draco took a deep breath and, just in case he might change his mind if this was put off any longer, swung the dream catcher-like pendant around his neck.
It happened as suddenly as a lightning strike. His mother's voice stopped calling him. In fact, every single noise came to a halt: birds chirping, the trees rustling the breeze; everything. Draco for a moment feared he might have gone deaf. Then, all of a sudden, jets of darkness rained around him like prison bars. The jets arched high and then connected so no light filtered through and he was alone in the darkness.
Draco looked around with frightened eyes. Not that it was any use. It didn't matter whether he kept his eyes shut or open. Just as he took a step backwards, he felt a pair of arms slide slowly around his waist as if someone was embracing him from behind. He then felt what he thought was metal brushing against his cheek. The arms felt icy cold as if a corpse were holding him and strangely smooth. He then heard a soft, sinister, somewhat echoing voice whisper in his ear, "Well, hello there, handsome."
"Who-who are you?"
"I've been with you ever since you opened that box, mortal youth. Whispering in your ear. Telling you what to do since you are so dim-witted to pause before placing the Moon Ring around your neck."
"The Moon Ring?"
"My God, you are slow for someone so pretty! What you have around your neck, dunce! What I told you to put on. You'll find that I can be very…persuasive." One of the hands then moved from around his waist and began to play with Draco's hair. What on earth was this person doing? He voiced this aloud. The answer came in the same soft whisper that gave Draco's spine a chill like it never had, "I was just examining what will soon be mine."
"What…do you mean?"
"What I mean, Draco Malfoy, is that your pretty little soul is now in my property."
He could then feel his head being tilted back and icy cold fingers run up his neck. The heat rose up his neck as well as a large dose of discomfort. He wrenched himself away from the man's grasp. His soul was that hair-raising man's property? This can only mean one thing, thought Draco, now horror-struck. That Moon Ring or whatever it was called kills people and delivers their souls to him! So that means...I'm dead! But this can't be!
Draco heard the same sinister laugh and suddenly, torches flared into life. They were no longer in his bedroom. They were in an empty dungeon-like room that was freezing cold. Draco shivered; hugging himself while his breath appeared before him as steam. There were chains hanging from cruel-looking stone walls that were smeared with something that looked horribly like blood. The smell in the air was proof of it. Draco turned his gaze to the person who had embraced him.
Draco didn't manage to scream but it was a close thing. The person had the body of a young man of around twenty but the little of his skin that Draco could see was jet black and his face was covered by a helmet that showed only the front of his neck. The eyeholes were slanting up and his eyes were only visible as a scorching red gleam, blazing into his very soul. The helmet itself had two curled horns like a ram and a ridge in between them like a shark's fin.
The hair was the same colour as Draco's but the other's came down past his hips, lying limp, uncaring for and looking rather lifeless with the tips dyed dark red like blood. He wore a simple, ragged blue surcoat, another Moon Ring around his neck, identical to Draco's, and from his shoulders flowed a tattered violet cloak. The robe sleeves were torn off completely. Over his surcoat was steel armour, covering nearly every inch of his body and making him look more inhuman than anything. Now he realised why the arms had felt smooth.
Draco backed off a little. What was that
The thing smirked and said, "I am Count Jean de Nekros: terror of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts; soul-stealer; Thief Lord of Hogsmeade; Master of the Dark Arts. Hah..." he gave a laugh like bones breaking, echoing slightly within the helmet, "You're afraid of me; aren't you, Draco? I can see you trembling as I speak and y'know what? That's exactly what I want. My come-back plan is working perfectly. I have found the one who can release the Moon Ring's mighty energies and I can return to the world of the living in that magnificent body of yours, Draco."
Draco shook his head frantically as Nekros chuckled maliciously. This wasn't happening! This had to be a dream or some kind of joke, "You-you can't!" he stuttered, flushing at the stutter in his voice, "I-I won't let you!"
"And how do you propose to stop me, pray tell?"
Draco didn't mean to say the last four words. They just came out. Draco was indeed shaking and not because of the cold. No matter how hard he thought, he could not find a way of stopping Nekros. Not on his own. Well, he was all alone here. He didn't even have his wand on him. The boy's heart grew cold as he realised his fate. There was nothing he could do. He lowered his head and Nekros gave a hearty, horrible laugh,
"Draco, do you seriously expect that a lowly mortal such as yourself could ever stop an immortal spirit like me? There are no mortals who can. Face it, young master Malfoy, the special thing about you is your exceptional beauty."
"C-could you stop doing that, please?"
"Doing what, gorgeous?" Nekros said this rather seductively. Draco flinched, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.
"Saying that I'm pretty. It's just…it's just…"
"It's just true, boy. I'm quite glad to have a body like yours to steal. Ooh, I won't be able to resist looking in a mirror. Yes, Draco, your soul is going to stay here. Within the impenetrable confines of the Moon Ring. Now, I'm going to examine my new body in the real world." Nekros turned and made to leave. Draco fell to his knees. He was going to be trapped here! In this dank cold dungeon! The boy shivered and hugged himself again. Nekros's voice then said, "Oh, I almost forgot."
Draco looked up. Nekros was approaching him with a sadistic smirk on his face. This does not look good, he thought and he was right to do so. The black-skinned spirit grabbed Draco by the collar and pulled him up onto his feet, "I like to have a little fun with the souls I steal." he hissed, "I want you on your feet so I can knock you back down! I was thinking about putting you under a spell so your mind will be constantly tormented by demons." Draco gave a sharp intake of breath at the thought, "but then I thought, no. You are so young in years." he released it again. Maybe Nekros will go easy on me, "I have decided to wipe your memory. All of it. And make you my prisoner that I can just leave on their own. Souls need neither food not fire. You are as good as a ghost."
The boy was mouthing in pure fear, all allusions of mercy gone, "Y-you can't do that! I-I'm pureblood, y'know." The last fact had just come out in desperation. Even though, by the look on Nekros's face, it would not work. Nekros laughed derisively at him. It was like being stabbed with knives to hear it and made Draco want to cover his ears,
"Do you seriously think I care what sort of blood you've got? For your information, I couldn't care less if you were black, white, young, old, pureblood, blood-traitor, half-blood or Mudblood. They are all cold-hearted, self-centred monsters. Their only purpose is for me to make them suffer like I did suffer!" He clenched his fists and said the last statement through gritted teeth. He then seemed to realise what he did and stopped, leering again, "Now, as for purebloods, I have a special loathing for them. Heartless beasts; the lot of them. Draco, does your heart grow cold? A fate worse than death is only moments away. Now, my dear, you have had enough long moments to cherish your memories. For now they will be gone!"
A/N You'll see a bit more of Nekros's pureblood hatred in later chapters.