Disclaimer: This chapter corresponds directly with pages 7 to 12 of Deathly Hallows (Scholastic version) by Joanne Kathleen Rowling.
July 12, 1997
Dear Journal,
Ah, good, a pause in this crazy life. Let's see... I left off of the Death Eaters meeting right before the Malfoy-included action began. Not quite a good thing, I'm afraid.
"As I was saying," the Dark Lord says, most appropriately considering the location in the entry. "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter." The Death Eaters all wore nearly identical faces of shock, though some had progressed to states of apprehension and fear. Father merely averted his eyes downward, and I realized that he was, once again, avoiding the Dark Lord's Legilimency. Why? What had arisen in his mind that could not be seen? Remembering this, I rapidly recommenced my staring match with the rotating body suspended above, whose presence I simple could not begin to comprehend.
"No volunteers? Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore." Father looked up. Defeat was not immediately apparent, and I only knew it by a strange sense of empathy to this stranger who had, in his earlier relayed message, almost presented a secret to me, reconnected our family. It was a loss for all the Malfoys- that is not empathy, then, I suppose- for its patriarch to lose his link to magic.
"My Lord?" was the simple question, and it, if anything, did ring with the aforementioned defeat. Damaged, alone, forlorn...
"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand." The Dark Lord spoke to Father as though he was too inept to comprehend the question.
"I..." Father said, before drawing courage from Mother's reassuring grasp. It was these moments that I hoped that they would get each other through this, because as far as I could tell I hadn't really been a help to them at all. Without hesitation after his wife's invisible decision, he relinquished it to his Master.
"What is it?" Why did it matter? I wondered peevishly. Would we be ridiculed for even this uncontrollable detail?
"Elm, my Lord."
"And the core?"
"Dragon- dragon heartstring." That's ironic, as my name basically means dragon (or male fowl, but I prefer not to think that way... Unless it's Artemis Fowl) and it's said that children are the heartstrings of their parents. Of course, Malfoys couldn't be anywhere near that sentimental. Where does romance go? Into the dustbin like Pansy, or a miraculous arranged marriage like Mother and Father. And arranged marriages don't quite qualify as romance in my book.
"Good," which was queer to say, as how can any wand core be good or bad? I hoped that I was not the only one in the room with this confusion, but I was frightened to let my eyes wander anywhere other than Father. As we were now the subject of attention, I did not dare allow my buzzing mind, so full of suspicions and dangerous allegations at my family (like secrets and such), to be prey to the wandering gazes of this distrustful folk. But Father I trusted, for if I couldn't do that, I wouldn't have anything left.
In the corner of my eye I saw the Dark Lord withdraw his own wand; at the same instant, Father made a small, automatic lurch as if to accept it. The Dark Lord pounced on this error, "Give you my wand, Lucius? My wand?" and the Death Eaters laughed syncophantically; I only heard this, of course. "I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you?" a dangerous question, followed up by a dangerous answer, "...but I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late..." Not too surprising, considering that we've been a laughingstock for twelve months and Father just returned from a stint in Azkaban "...What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?"
"Nothing- nothing, my Lord!"
"Such lies, Luciusss." Apart from the Dark Lord's impressively sustained note (the world lost a great addition to the music industry when he decided to rule the world... kidding), I was stunned. Had Father exposed himself to the Dark Lord's gaze in his conversation? Was it to gain the Dark Lord's trust? But then, how could he have forgotten Occlumency? I glanced at Father, whose eyes were firmly downward, and I simply was not able to comprehend my feeling of confusion. If Father's conduct couldn't be expected to be perfect, then what was the hope for me?
My thoughts were cut off, then, by the thud of a massive something dropping onto the ground under the table and slithering, then rising to rest on the Dark Lord's shoulders like a bizarre imitation of a pirate's parrot. With this final supporter in place, the Dark Lord continued with his deadly rhetoric: "Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desired for so many years?"
Was Father sweating? What happened to keeping our cover? "Of course my Lord; we did desire it- we do," he was quick to correct. Mother made a strange, jerky nod, still staring with admirable perseverance and tact at the far wall and not the horrifying creatures surrounding us. I glanced quickly at the Dark Lord, dying of curiosity for his reaction- was Father to be believed?- and luckily I did not literally die of curiosity.
At this challenge of loyalty, who else but Aunt Bella had to join in. Voice full of emotion, as though she might cry from it, I thought oddly, she leaned over the table, ample bosom seductively poised in this new position as she propositioned herself to perhaps the darkest, coldest, most manipulative man to ever walk to earth. Do you wonder why Aunt Bella creeps me out? "My Lord, it is an honor to have you here, in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure." Well, other than doing the Dark Lord, for you, Aunt Bella, I thought. But she can't say that, of course- Rodolphus is right here! Wait a hot second- no he's not. What?
"No higher pleasure. That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you."
"My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!" The deranged woman nearly teared with joy- what has become of faithful marriage? Oh, whoops. Shouldn't be looking at eyes- I went back to the body.
"No higher pleasure- even compared with the happy even, I hear, has taken place with your" ew ew ew ew "family this week?" Hold on. I don't think that the Dark Lord would consider himself family... Phew.
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord." Was she also thrown off by the family part, or just thrown off that the Dark Lord had dared to compare her pleasure of his presence with anything else.
His next sentence caused an outpouring of jeering jubilation: "I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud," but I was too busily in shock- I had a cousin? A possible companion? Was that what I had been missing? A cousin? While I had grown up alone than family friends- I had more to my family? What other tidbits had been conveniently concealed from me? Of course, judging my the antics described above, it surely wouldn't be wise to liaise with such a character and her sympathies, but it is certainly mind-boggling.
Aunt Bella's angry cry, so diverse from her happiness only a few moments previous, helped explain the matter. "She is no niece of ours, my Lord. We, Narcissa and I, have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries." Ah... It was that sister.
"What say you, Draco?" the Dark Lord said quietly, and somehow all of my worst fears confirmed themselves in my mind. "Will you babysit the cubs?" Ought I answer, should I politely deny it, as Father had been engaging in all evening... I sought the answer from Father, but his gaze remained downward. Mother was more helpful, with a minute shaking of her head before straightening her gaze to nowhere in particular. "Enough, enough," He mercifully silenced the room. "Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time. You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the rest."
"Yes, my Lord. At the first chance!"
Was this the point of humiliating us, just to remind us to kill Mudbloods and muggles? Is that really necessary? Or perhaps it was merely a transition, for He then responded. "You shall have it. And in your family, so in the world, we shall cut away that canker that infects us until only those of true blood remain." And then he woke the woman with Father's wand.
Immediately recognizing her, I looked away. I could not stand it anymore; she was animate, and now she was human. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" He asked, prompting the woman to cry "Severus! Help me!" This testament of human suffering made me wince.
"Ah yes," was Snape's only answer.
"And you, Draco?"
What should I say? Nothing, again? I cleared my mind determinedly, shaking my head. Still, the inexplicable anguish in my chest did little to leave me.
As the Dark Lord explained Charity Burbage's identity to the Death Eaters, as a Professor at Hogwarts who taught students that Muggles "are not so different from us," the woman in question turned again, pleaded Snape again, her upside-down eyes swimming with tears- the same saltwater that had filled Aunt Bella's before her.
"Silence," and He spelled it before continuing that she had written in the Daily Prophet (must have missed the article, I suppose), that "the dwindling of the purebloods is a most desirable circumstance..." During this monologue, there was no humor in the situation, and the woman sobbed silently on. Was it remorse, or fear?
No matter. She wouldn't suffer from it anymore.
Avada Kedavra. And she crashed onto the overburdened table below, and I fell out of my chair in... just in. She had just died. I was not the only one who was shocked, but the others seemed more concerned of the table than the life. She had died. Even two days later, I relive the feelings. I did not like it. I did not want it. It should not happen. It had happened. This is the great cause we fight for. This is why I am a Death Eater and had to kill this woman's employer. Death must occur for us. Death eaters are what we are.
How much of the Dark Mark makes a difference to the holder?
The green light was no less shocking or scarring. The gut agony I felt was no less strong. The utter helplessness was no less unwelcome, the urge to burst into tears was no less threatening.
What was this path we have chosen?
I looked at Father. He looked at me.
Perhaps my doubts are the beginning to the answer,
Draco
A/N: You like the taste I leave in your mouth. You look at me, I look at you. Neither of us know what to do. Maroon Five. This was the tune that overcame me as I wrote. Does that explain the overemphasis of the eyes?
Also, this must be my first one entry chapter since.... I don't quite recall. But the one entry certainly far longer than I can remember another- perhaps Dumbledore's death could rival it? There certainly is a pattern of death, then. But death is just so traumatic it kind of deserves it from Draco, right? Anyways, this chapter does have a bit of important character development and plot work; not quite necessary, but helpful. The questions will be answered soon enough... But its still only summer! And then the school year also holds some surprises; how wonderful! I'm really enjoying the writing of this.
To my reviewer:
mjmusiclover: Change is good, I hope? Still rocking is a good sign :)
I know there are various reasons as to why the review count is skim- one reviewer's computer died- yikes!- and I updated inconveniently on a Tuesday- but I still really appreciate any reviews that you can offer. I really appreciate any commentary you can give, even if you're mind is completely blank and all you can think of is :) or Update or That was a weird chapter. The depth of your review corresponds with the response, but it isn't a requirement. I love answering questions, concerns, predictions, and interesting observations, because it really solidifies the underlying premise that I write to as I type it all up. The wonderful thing about fanfiction is that the tale is not yet finished- it has to time to grow and live and change and improve. Optimization and all that jazz. For this ability, not only to lift an unprofessional writer's heart or bless this simple tale with your ideas, but also to express your opinions in an encouraging medium and exercise the right to it, please review the fanfictions you read.
Thank you.
