Author's Note: Chapter 2 of my glorious epic (ha!). In which Draco meets the Dark Lord. (Written with aid of Rammstein and KoRn!).
Disclaimer: Everything is JK Rowling's, except Quentin Morris.
Born Under A Bad Sun
Chapter 2: Destiny Eternal
By Peeler
- "Once you start down the Dark Path, forever will it dominate your Destiny…..
- Yoda, Star Wars
Another day, another article. I glanced down at Rita Skeeter's column in the Daily Prophet, my thoughts in a turmoil of impatience. It had been two weeks since the series had begun. Two weeks and not a smidgen of information on where the Dark Lord might be hiding. I was back to handing out any and every meaningless task in the entire manor to various servants, and I need not tell you that I found this trying. I opened the window, turned to pick up the paper, and gasped. "Son of a Bitch!" I swore. The headline stared back at me:
Location of Death Eater Lair Unmasked!
In this part of our Daily Prophet exclusive, we can reveal that the Ministry of Magic has known the location of a secret Death Eater safe house in a London suburb for more than a month…
Ah, this was what I had been waiting for. My father had left me more than a big house….. I pointed my wand at the paper and said calmly, 'Morsmordre!' In a dark rosebud of ink, a glowing Dark Mark spread itself onto the paper. Then, as if it were possessed of its own mind, the ink flowed into new words: an address.
79260 West 5th Avenue. For Floo Powder use 'Pureblood 67.' Apparition point 12.6766.
Without a moment's hesitation I walked to the fireplace, shouted 'Incendio' and stepped into the green flames. As wind from the open window swirled my black cloak around me, I shouted 'Pureblood 67'.
When I stepped out of the fireplace on the other end, it was to the sight of wands pointed at my heart.
"Identify yourself, NOW, or you will die!" Shouted the nearest black-robed, masked figure. With a bow taught by years of etiquette lessons, I swept off my pointed hat. "Draco Malfoy, son of the late Lucius Malfoy, at your service, my good sir." He took a step back, but kept his wand pointed at my chest. "If you are indeed who you say you are, young Mr. Malfoy, we have been waiting for you. I knew your father well, and was saddened to hear of his passing. I hear you have taken on the burden of running the estate?" "Yes, sir…?" I inquired. "Morris" he replied "Quentin Morris. If you will come with me, young Draco…?" I followed, noticing he had finally pointed his wand away from my heart. Well, that's about as reassuring as this situation gets, I thought wryly to myself.
I followed Morris down a staircase and through a door that glowed with an ethereal light. Finally we arrived in a large room shaped like a hexagon. Morris turned and whispered something to another Death Eater, who withdrew a vial filled with a vivid turquoise liquid. "if you'll just drink this, Mr. Malfoy, I'll explain our current situation." "What is it?" I asked. "It is a combination of a truth potion and a particularly painful variant of the nightshade poison. If you are who you say you are, you will be fine. If you lie, it will kill you. If you do not drink it, we will kill you. Understand, Draco?" "Crystal clear, Mr. Morris," I replied, and drank. I felt a curious twinge of icy cold in my veins, but it vanished swiftly. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy, now that the formalities are over, we may progress. I will leave it to the Dark Lord to tell you how your father died, after all, it was he who was the first on the scene. I can tell you, however, that Lucius died a hero for the cause. His presence will be sorely missed." "Mr. Morris-," "Just Quentin, please, Draco. I was good friends with your father, and I would like to continue that friendship with his son." "Very well, Quentin," I replied "I wonder if you could do me a favor. It gets in the way of my running the estate that I am not its legal owner…Do you have any contacts who could provide me with the necessary legal documents to transfer ownership from my mother to myself?" "I'll see what I can do, Draco. Now, if you don't mind my asking, how exactly did you find us?" "Well, you know how Rita Skeeter claims she was away investigating our organization? Well, that's not specifically true. Rita's an unregistered animagus, a beetle, and had been captured by a Hogwarts student with a grudge against her. I was able to free Rita, and told her to write her current story." Seeing the shocked look on Morris' face, I thought it best to explain my motives. "My father's notes left no information on how I might contact the Death Eaters. I hoped Rita could uncover some information. There was a hidden message in today's Daily Prophet." I duplicated the incantation I'd used earlier on Morris' copy of the paper. He seemed impressed. "The Dark Mark incantation. I suppose most prospective Death Eaters would be clever enough to figure that one out. I doubted you could find us through the paper's basic address. You see, Draco, we're not in London. We're in Gloucester." "Ah, brilliant. I hoped Rita would be careful with whatever she uncovered. Speaking of which, if the Ministry knows where you are, shouldn't you move?" "Oh, my God" said Morris "Draco, you're right! We wouldn't have known it if you hadn't shown up here, the paper says we're in London! Draco, do you have your apparition license?" "Well, technically it's not mine, but…" "Okay boys," said Morris "Let's go!"
Apparition, besides the feeling as if you'd been hit by the entire lineup of a rugby team when you arrived, also left you disoriented. You know the spots you see when you rub your eyes with your knuckles? Imagine that for five minutes. It gets better with experience, but back then, it took me about ten minutes to recover. It's called apparition lag. Anyway, when I felt a bit better, Morris thanked me heartily. It looked like we were in a bar. I recognized the bartender, a Mr. O'Toole. We were in Knockturn Alley's best pub, the Banshee's Tears. "Ah, young Master Draco," said the bartender "I was saddened to hear about your father. He helped me start this place up, you know. So, what'll you have?" I ordered a tall Mai Tai. Morris had a Heineken. We found a booth. "Now, Draco, shall, we continue our conversation? You've told me about what you've been doing lately, but you know nothing of our situation. Azkaban has fallen. The Dementors have joined us, hundreds strong. Our ranks are also in the hundreds. We have been joined by giants, vampires, werewolves, banshees and other Dark Creatures. Our army numbers nearly two-thousand strong, but we cannot move until our Lord is ready. He is still recovering his strength." "How come the Ministry is not investigating my father's death, and the fall of Azkaban?" I asked. "Well, Draco, it seems you may have played a part in that. The current Ministry, and especially Fudge, are desperate to hold onto power, and they feel that slipping. They know word of Azkaban's fall could spread a panic, and given Rita Skeeter's articles lately, they've covered it up. Of course, they can't investigate, because Azkaban's unplottable, and when we left, we destroyed the beacon behind us. Without the beacon, they can't apparate there, and it would take years to find it by air. However, we left our own beacon there, so a Death Eater can still fly there if they want to." "What about my father?" I asked "Surely they haven't made a connection?" "No. The Malfoy family makes Very generous donations to the Ministry and various government corporations quite often. These donations are all that's keeping the government in the black. If Lucius is declared legally dead, the donations stop. So, according to the Ministry, he's on an extended sabbatical in the U.S., and his wife is running the family businesses in his absence." "Brilliant!" I exclaimed "I had no idea the Ministry was so impotent!" "Oh," said Morris, "You don't know the half of it! Fudge has a close relationship with the muggle parliament, and they with him. The Ministry has its spies in the muggle government, and they have spies in ours. This I what makes our conquest so complicated. We know that the muggle government hates wizards. They don't understand us, they see us as a threat, they would wipe us out in an instant if they could. But they can't. However, should the muggles get word that we're attacking, they'll come in, guns blazing, while we're both weak. We have to strike at the intertwined parts of the Ministry of Magic and the muggle Parliament first. But the muggles can't know that it's us. They have to blame it on terrorists, or something. That's where the situation stands. In two days, Lord Voldemort is calling a conference. I'll bet He knows about your little message in the paper! We'll have a lot of young members there. I trust you'll come?" "But of course!" I replied. Leaving Knockturn Alley, I booked a suite at the Diagon Alley's most prestigious hotel, the Avalon's Twilight. Pocketing the charm Morris had given me (It would give me an apparition locale for the Death Eater's conference), I went out to buy some new dress robes, (Designer, of course). Young, rich and powerful, I smiled as my family's old friends and contacts shook my hand in chic stores and restaurants. I felt like the world was made for me, and I could make it mine. How wrong I would prove to be…
Wow, this was easier than I thought! I was really on a roll! Tell me what you think, part three will be up soon!