"Where are we going?" Draco asked, noticeably out of breath as his father tugged him through the halls of Malfoy Manor.
Lucius didn't even acknowledge that he'd spoke, and continued to pull relentlessly at his arm.
Draco grimaced the whole way for he still wasn't feeling well enough to walk, but he couldn't stop when his father had his sleeve in a firm grasp and was forcing him to match his long strides.
Draco quickly realized that they were headed for Lucius' study. Lucius practically kicked the door open, and Draco was pushed inside. He looked up to find a circle of men standing around with their jaws set firmly. Not one of them looked at all thrilled with his arrival.
He tried to be polite and nod 'hello' to them, but they all turned their heads away, treating him like fresh hippogriff dung.
Lucius stalked across the room to urgently talk to one of the men, and Draco glanced around with a tentative look before he sat down in a nearby chair.
Lucius chose that moment to spin around and yell at Draco to get off his arse.
Draco stood, and sucked in a terse breath as his insides gave a particularly nasty throb. "What's going on, father?" he managed to ask.
"We must go; the Dark Lord is waiting for you."
"For me?" he spat, "But—"
He was cut off as Lucius strode over to him and clutched his arm. The men around him began to disappear and within moments, Draco felt himself being apparated away along with them.
Draco landed on his face on a polished marble floor, and if Lucius hadn't seized his arm to help him stand, he would never have made it onto his own two legs. He was beginning to feel bruises from Lucius' stiff hand around his arm and he rubbed it tentatively, and then gazed around to find himself in a larger circle of Death Eaters.
"Greetings," a cold voice said.
The voice caused the tiny hairs on his arms and neck to rise simultaneously. A dark figure emerged in front of Draco and he felt like someone just doused his body with ice water.
It was Voldemort. Draco's eyes were twice the size as normal, and the pain in his body diminished completely as his nerves took over.
"Draco," Voldemort whispered as he walked up to him. Draco felt Lucius push him forward so that he bowed as Voldemort approached him. "How good of you to be here," he said. "Finally the day has come for you to join us."
When Draco did not answer he hissed, "Are you not happy to be here?"
"I'm relieved to finally be in your presence, My Lord." Draco heard the words pouring from his mouth and wondered where they came from...
"That is very good to hear. I admit that I was discouraged when you were unable to complete the task—"
"My Lord," Lucius interrupted.
Voldemort did not move his head—his beady eyes shot to Lucius immediately with disapproval and indignance.
Draco's head was spinning, "What the hell am I doing here? I'm not supposed to get the Dark Mark until the end of my seventh year, why did Lucius bring me early? What the hell is going on?"
After minutes of Voldemort staring at his father, it became obvious that he was performing Legilimency on Lucius.
"I understand, Lucius," he said, and with a giant sweep of his arm, Lucius' body went flying backwards and was only stopped when he slammed into a wall. "You would do well to remember not to interrupt me again."
Lucius was red in the face, but nodded all the same. He looked to Draco who had a very baffled look on his face.
Draco's heart was racing. What the hell was that all about?
Voldemort turned back to Draco with a wry smirk on his face. "On to more important matters," Voldemort said as he began to circle Draco. The men gathered around to create a ring around Draco and their Dark Lord.
Low humming chants began to emit from the Death Eaters, and before Draco realized what was happening, Voldemort had taken his left arm and ripped his sleeve apart. He then uttered a spell that sent wild burning sensations throughout his entire body.
Draco began to scream louder than he could ever remember as he smelled his own burning flesh wafting under his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and block the pain. It seemed to be working for the next feeling that coursed through him was a weightless-floating feeling...
When Draco opened his eyes again, he was reclining on his leather couch in his room at Malfoy Manor. He shot upwards with suprise. Paranoid, he spun around to see if anyone was in his room with him, but the sudden rash movement caused him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.
"What the hell," he whispered as he dry-swallowed. "Did I just imagine that?"
A ghost chill ran up his spine as he registered that his left arm was tingling oddly. He looked down at his black dress shirt that was still hanging opened with trepidation. He then saw, to his dismay, that his left sleeve was ripped.
"No," his voice cracked as he stared down at the torn sleeve. He clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed the sleeve up to his elbow, and then let his eyes fall over the flesh of his forearm.
He had most certainly not imagined anything for there, harshly contrasting with his pale white skin, was a black skull and a serpent tongue.
The Dark Mark.
Draco stared at it with indifference. He must have sat there for hours, for his legs began to prickle with sleepiness from his complete lack of movement.
Bloody, buggering hell. This was not good.
Saturday approached quickly to Hermione's delight, and she dressed in jeans and a sleeveless summer shirt before she clamored down the stairs for breakfast.
"Good morning Hermione," Derek promptly greeted her.
"Morning," she replied as she took the chair he offered her. "Where is everyone?' she asked as she noticed that the usually crowded kitchen was empty.
"The maids have the weekend off, and Roger and my mother left to do business in the city."
Hermione's jaw literally dropped, "But they were supposed to take me with them—"
"Don't worry, mum told me that you needed a lift to London. I'll take you."
"Oh," Hermione said as she looked down at her plate. Well, a ride was a ride. "Thanks," she said as she gave him a brief smile.
"Say, how long do you suppose you'll be staying?"
"In London?"
He nodded.
"Oh, I don't know, probably the whole afternoon unless that's a problem."
"No problem, I might stop by and pick up a few friends to spend the day with me since you'll need a ride back too," he said as his eyes bore into her back. "Who is it that you're meeting?"
"Some friends from school."
He finally took a seat to Hermione's relief, but continued to stare at her.
"Do they have names?" Derek asked.
"Harry, Ron, and Ginny," she replied as she piled fruit on her plate, ignoring his gaze.
They sat in silence for the remainder of breakfast, until he rose and declared that they would depart in twenty minutes.
To his word, twenty minutes passed and the two of them headed outside where his car was parked.
"I called my friend's so they are definitely coming. You don't mind a quick detour, do you?"
"Not at all."
"Good," he said as he put on sunglasses and adjusted his rear-view mirror. "Let's go!"
Hermione buckled up and placed her knapsack in her lap as Derek sped down the gravel drive. She couldn't help but grasp onto the side of the door as he took a sharp left turn out of the driveway. "Slow down!" she wanted to scream as he hit the gas.
Once they got onto the main road, Hermione released her death grip as he seemed to be more careful when other cars were around.
"So, how long have you known these friends of yours?"
"We've known each other for seven years."
"Seven years," Derek repeated as he looked over to Hermione, "So am I right in assuming that those seven years were from school?"
She nodded, "Well, I went to school with Ginny for six years, she's a year younger than me, Harry, and Ron," Hermione said. Her eyes were glued to the road, and she was trying to encourage him to do the same since he kept glancing at her.
"Did you ever date Harry or Ron?"
Hermione's head shot to him, her mouth dropping opened. "No," she said quickly.
"Did you ever have any boyfriends?"
Hermione eyes drifted back to the road, not sure if she wanted to answer him.
"Did you?"
Hermione looked over at him, "I—"
"Forget I asked," he said as he looked back at the road.
"Yes, I did have a boyfriend."
Derek glanced at her, "What was his name?"
Hermione paused, "Draco."
"Draco," Derek repeated. "Interesting name," he nodded.
"We were actually pretty serious," Hermione said, as a small part of her was longing to talk about him.
"Serious? Serious as in 'I Love You' serious—or serious…in a physical sense?"
Hermione wasn't sure how to answer his question so she pretended not to hear it. "We dated for five months."
"Dated…so you aren't dating anymore," he concluded.
Hermione's eyes lowered, "No, he—he got hurt. We aren't together anymore."
Her reply led to a lengthy lapse of silence as they drove on. Derek turned on the radio as she looked out the window at the passing scenery.
Hermione fell into a trance as she watched the white lines on the road go by one at a time. She sat up straighter when Derek broke the silence.
"My friend's house is just a few minutes down this road," he said as he turned the car off the highway. "It'll just take a moment."
When they pulled into a driveway, Hermione saw four strapping boys appear from a petite looking house. Derek turned the car off and went to guy-hug/high-five them.
Hermione opened the door and stepped out as Derek promptly introduced his friends to Hermione and vice-versa.
When they made to get into the car, Hermione spoke. "Derek, how exactly are we all going to fit?"
The tallest boy declared the front seat with Derek, which left Hermione and the three other boys to sit in the cramped backseat.
Unfortunately, they didn't fit at all. She couldn't even get the door to close behind her and she sighed in frustration, "Can I just sit in the front seat with you?" she asked the boy next to Derek.
Gosh, magic would solve so many problems right now.
"Sure, but you'll have to sit on my lap," he said.
She knew it was either sit on his lap, the laps of the frisky ones in the back seat, or the trunk. Thankfully, the tall one seemed to be the nicest of the bunch, so she quickly agreed to move up front.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered as she settled on the strangers lap.
"I know, Derek needs to buy himself a bigger car," the boy said.
"I thought you said a few friends," Hermione hissed at Derek. She was irritated that she was now sitting on some random boys thighs.
"Four is a few."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Derek started the engine. Once again, he pulled out of the driveway so fast that Hermione reached out to steady herself. Only this time instead of grasping the door, she accidentally grasped the boy's thigh.
"Sorry," she muttered as her cheeks turned scarlet. God this was embarrassing.
Luckily, they were only about ten minutes from the city streets of London.
"Where to?" Derek asked Hermione when they turned onto the main road.
"I'm meeting them in a bookshop on Charing Cross Road," Hermione replied.
"Alright," Derek said. As they neared the bookshop, Hermione felt a smile tug on her lips as she gazed upon The Leaky Cauldron. It was amusing to know that all these muggle boys saw was a bookshop and a record store.
Derek parked the car and the tall boy opened the door as Hermione jumped out. She grabbed her knapsack and turned back to Derek.
"Thanks for the ride, where shall I meet you?"
Derek glanced around, "There," he said, pointing to a pub across the street. "At five?"
"Five it is," she nodded, "Thanks for the ride, and nice meeting you all," she said to the boys.
Hermione watched as Derek zoomed away and when the car was out of site, she made for the doorway of The Leaky Cauldron.
"Hermione!" she heard several voices shout at once when she opened the door.
She was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. "It's so good to see you all," she said as she looked between them. Molly was in the background and approached to give Hermione a quick pat on the back.
"Hurry! You're going to be late!" she said as she shooed them towards the Diagon Alley entrance.
Three hours passed when Hermione, Harry, and Ron were legally allowed to apparate.
Ginny bombarded them with questions as they walked to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor.
"Oh Ginny, it was brilliant!" Hermione said as she relayed the past three hours for the younger witch.
Harry and Ron took the liberty of apparating to the parlor ahead of Hermione, Ginny, and Molly and were already eating their ice cream when the girls arrived.
"So, tell me more about Roger's fiancée and son."
"Chloe, his fiancée, is a very interesting lady…" Hermione smiled as she imitated her posture. Ginny giggled as Hermione then mimicked her voice to a tee, and let the laughter die down. They paid for some ice cream, and then settled at a table next to Harry and Ron.
"And the son?" Ginny continued as she licked her spoon.
"Derek," Hermione said. "Derek is…nice," she hesitated, not sure if she should tell the younger witch that he was a little bit uncomfortable to be around when she was alone.
"Is he cute?"
Hermione smiled, "I guess," she shrugged. "I hate—" she trailed off.
Ginny waited for a moment, "You hate what?"
"Whenever I hear his name, I automatically think they're saying Draco, and then my stomach sinks every time I realize they're just saying Derek," she confessed. "Stupid really," she mumbled. "And what's worse—"
"AHHHHHH!" Harry suddenly screamed in agony as he dropped his ice cream bowl with a crash.
Harry was clutching his scar as he fell off his chair and to the floor in pain.
"Harry!" Hermione and Ginny cried as they rushed to him. Ron was already by his side, and Molly had dropped her treat in a hurry to get to them.
Every single person in the parlor was standing to look at him as he continued to scream.
"MY SCAR!" he bellowed as he clawed at it.
Suddenly, they heard screams from the streets of Diagon Alley. Hermione stood and ran outside, Ginny at her heels.
"What's going on?" the red head cried as they searched the crowd.
"DEATH EATERS!" they heard people shouting.
Hermione and Ginny didn't have to relay the message to those in the parlor, for they too heard the bellows from the witches and wizards on the street. The ice cream parlor went into an instant uproar as everyone made for the door. Ron was helping Harry to stand up.
"Quick, to The Leaky Cauldron!" Molly shouted as she motioned for them to leave.
The chaos outside was unreal, and very much like their fourth year at the Quidditch World Cup. Everyone was running in several directions, and Hermione's heart raced as she grabbed Ginny's hand and ran frantically behind Harry, Ron, and Molly.
Draco had been furious that his father didn't tell him he was going to get the Dark Mark. He had avoided looking at the black blemish on his arms for days, and had only talked to his father when he was spoken to.
Draco's stubbornness was not overlooked by Lucius. Lucius could tell that his son was upset that he'd withheld information about Voldemort, but it had to be this way. Draco was ignorant of the past six months of his life—he couldn't explain anything without giving away his past. Draco was a smart boy; he was going to figure out that a huge chunk of his life was missing sooner or later.
For now, all Lucius could do was try and persuade Draco to believe that being a servant to the Dark Lord was his path. He'd begun by giving Draco every book about Dark Magic that he had previously forbidden him to read.
It didn't take long for Draco to become completely immersed in the Dark Arts and abandon his anger towards his father. Within weeks, he was practicing a plethora of spells. Lucius had even taught him how to apparate in case he was ever called by Voldemort. Draco also caught himself examining his new tattoo with curiosity and fascination.
The more Draco read, the more he wanted to be involved with the world of Dark Magic. He began to take pride in his mark, and still couldn't believe that he was a real Death Eater.
"Father, why am I not in school?" Draco asked one day. The question had been at the back of his mind for some time now.
"Things got out of hand and I had to bring you home," was his father's swift reply. It was good enough for him; he'd rather be at the Manor than at Hogwarts with the old oaf Dumbledore breathing down his neck any day.
Draco was strolling down the hall eating a bright green apple when it first happened. A searing hot pain erupted on his left arm and rushed throughout his entire body and he dropped the apple in surprise.
It was the Dark Mark…Voldemort was calling him.
His adrenaline began to pump vigorously throughout his veins as he heard his father's voice in his head. "If you feel him calling us, apparate immediately to his side."
Draco took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated...
When he landed, the first thing his mind registered were distant screams. Draco fell into his new spot in the circle of Death Eaters. A few minutes passed as Voldemot waited for everyone to arrive.
When the circle left no empty spots, Voldemort stiffly said a few choice words.
"He is here. Bring him to me."
Within seconds, the circle dissolved into billowing black cloaks.
Draco caught his father's eye before he threw his cloak over his face and flicked out his wand.
"Time to catch Potter," he thought to himself.
Still not knowing exactly where he was, he looked up to read the signs over the buildings. "Allivanders," he muttered with a nod. He now recognized this place—Diagon Alley.
He gave a hollow laugh as he stalked down the street, his insides squirming with anticipation. He had an advantage that the other Death Eaters didn't have.
He knew exactly what to look for to find Potter: a clan of red-heads, and a bushy, brown-haired Mudblood.