As a I approach the room to which I faintly remember being the ball room, I stand still before it and take in a deep breath. I gawk at the beautifully intricate door handle, a silver baslisk was coiled in the shape of an S. It's intricate scales are carved deep and ridged to the touch, overlapping each other like a sacred sword awaiting to scar its next victim. As my hand touches the dead looking metal, I am shocked by its freezing temperature. I retrack my hand and gasp out loud. Draco takes a step forward so that he now is sanding directly behind me, I had hoped he would open the door for me, I was wrong though. Instead he takes my small hand in his rough, calloused ones and forces my hand on the handle. I squirm and try to pull my hand away but the baslisk wraps it's scaled body around our hand, I try again to pull my hand away but Draco holds it in place as it coils its length around our hands, I feel my heart beat quicken, my claustrophobia starts to ignite and I desperately try to pull away one last time, but to no avail, I stop squirming, instead I take in a deep breathe, Draco presses my thumb down on the head of the baslisk, its mouth opens and tiny blade like teeth reveal themselves. I hear a click somewhere from within the door and find that the heavy slab of mahogany has started to move forward, I feel the pressure from my hand ease and notice the baslisk uncoil itself from around our hands.
I numbly let my hands fall around to my side as the door opens wider, revealing a long table consecutively littered with stern looking pure blood witches and wizards, they all sat still with their mouths thinly shut in a straight line. Draco side steps me and places himself between his mother and father at the long table. The room is insufferably dark, a thick smog of evil and decay lingers in the air. The only source of light is emitted from a roaring fire yet it bears no heat. I try to breathe but the air, something about it is not right, it's too thick, as though it is not meant for human consumption.
"My dear, I was beginning to think you had lost your way." An insidious voice slithers into my eardrums. I shiver despite myself and locate the sound of the sinister sound, the back of a head, so pale it is almost blue sits before me, he turns in his seat and his viper like features almost make me gag. I find myself frozen to the spot and too petrified to step forward. I can only assume the man like creature before me is my supposed father, Voldemort. "Come…" is all he says as he extends a hand, meaning for me to take it. I look before me and see all of his followers watch me expectantly, knowingly and judgingly. I swallow the rock in my throat and try to coax myself to step forward. "Aria, I won't ask you again." Voldemort says once more. I look to Draco this time and he smiles at me reassuringly and nods, as if to let me know that it is okay. I take breathe in and out once and mentally scream at my leg to go forward. I find my body complying with my mind and soon I stand before my 'father'.
"Aria dear, how I have dreamt of the day we would be reunited." His voice slithers through my ear. Before I am aware of what is happening I find that the dark lord has gathered me in an embrace, scared to see what happens if I do not reciprocate I place my arms around him too and feel my skin crawl. When my father releases me he turns to his followers. "Today-" his voice starts in a loud and demanding tone. "Today is the day I get back my daughter, the day we get back our dark heir." The once sombre faces rejoice and shout their welcomes. I was untrained on how to react in these situations and simply nod my head in appreciation with a tight lip smile, the very essence of awkward and uncomfortable. "We will now begin the process of purifying the wizarding world, alongside my daughter and my faithful followers, we shall ensure only the pure-blood reign supreme." Yikes has this man ever heard of Hitler. I shake the thought from my mind and remember I needed to focus, I start by trying to memorise the face of ever person in the room, If I ever needed to point out these so called loyal followers I wanted to ensure I didn't get this wrong. As I am scanning the room I watch everyone's face hang on to every word the dark one says, as if his words hold all the power in the world. I see their faces filled with fear and excitement. When my face latches onto a stormy pair of irises I stop and drink in their familiarity in such an alien context, then I realise that they're not latched onto my 'fathers' words like every other mindless lemming inside the room. Instead he is staring directly into mine. I break eye contact first and shuffle my feet. My apparent father finishes his speech and everyone cheers. He then turns to me and look into my eyes, I return his gaze but I don't see soul in his. If I look into Draco's eyes I see anger and fear, if I stare into Hermione's I see a thirst for knowledge and If I look into Harry's I see unwavering loyalty, but when I look into the eyes of the man that stands before me, all I see a hollow, shallow decaying set of eyes, ones that do not hold true life.