Chapter 26: Debilitas Solivagus

Summer tears, winter… and the moment's flown
Dont' you sometimes wish your heart was made of stone

            "How much longer till tea?"

            "Half an hour, Mrs Jenkins."

            "That's too long."

            "Well, you've just taken your medicine so you need to wait for half an hour for your tummy to settle. It says to take it half an hour before food."

            "You nurses are all the same, trying to *starve* me! I'll tell my children, I will! I'll write to the bloody Queen of England!"

            "Try to get some rest, tea will be served soon."

            "The bloody Queen the and the House of Lords I tell you…"

            The young nurse sighed and drew the curtains around her patient's bed. Mrs Jenkins was one of more the difficult ones in that ward.

            "Trouble?" whispered her friend Cathy, who was a trainee nurse like herself.

            "Mrs Jenkins up to her old tricks."

            "You should take a few days leave, you haven't been looking so good lately, Hermione."

            "It's just the cold, I never took the winter too well."

            "Yeah," Cathy drew her cardigan tighter around herself "It's been a very hard winter."

            Hermione bit her lip and walked to the medicine cabinet.

            "I heard it gets better once we start the children's ward, then there's maternity which shouldn't be so bad. I'm not looking forward to ICU and Emergency though- I heard those are tough." Cathy chattered on, helping her friend take down bottles of pills for sorting into patients' plastic cups. Hermione sucked in her breath. Of all the wards she had been dreading training in, maternity was probably the one she dreaded most of all.

            "Cathy, could you ask Edward if tea's ready? I think we could start getting the trolleys up here."

            "Sure. Are you sure you don't want to skip off now? You really have been looking pale lately."

            "Thanks Cathy, I think I'll just go to the toilet for a quick wash up. I'll feel better running my freezing hands under the warm water taps."

            Cathy smiled and nodded, she too had often run her fingers under the warm water from the taps. The Community Hospital nurse uniform did not include gloves and it was really cold. "Go ahead, I'll call Edward now about the tea trays."

            Hermione headed for the toilets and as soon as she reached in, splashed water on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror and remembered almost immediately a scene from three months earlier when she had seen two other faces in the mirror behind her- the two people she loved most in the world. She felt her eyes fill with tears.

            "Don't be silly, Hermione" she scolded herself aloud. "Stupid. Emotional. Weak. Everybody's perfectly all right. I hear about them from Neville occasionally don't I?"

            Except that she knew that Neville wasn't going to be around for the next few months, he had gone to join Harry and the other Aurors in Romania. She didn't know if she could bear six months without hearing news of her son. Neville was her only link. He couldn't tell her much about him of course, but he could at least tell her that he was fine, and getting stronger. She glanced at her watch, it was 4.47 pm. After serving them their patient's tea, Hermione and Cathy could go home. Sometimes, Cathy would ask Hermione over to her flat for dinner or vice-versa, or they would go and watch a movie. But mostly, Cathy went out with her fiancé- a nice middle-manager called Thomas.

            The date on the watch said '19'. Tomorrow was Draco's 19th birthday. On his birthday last year she had given him a book "The History of Quidditch Rules". This year, she didn't think she should pass him a present- Neville seemed nervous enough about their monthly meetings and urged her to follow the 'no contact with Draco' rule very strictly. He wouldn't tell her much about Draco either- except that he was doing well at Hogwarts.

            She took some pins out of her hair and pushed them firmly in again, making sure her bun wouldn't fall down. She patted her hair and adjusted her uniform. She loved the Community Hospital training. She liked to see the links between Mediwizardry and Muggle Medicine. There were more links than one had imagined- she had already begun writing a journal of them: one day, she might even write a book. She wished Madam Pomfrey was around to answer the questions that she had, but that part of her life was closed off for now.

            "Tea's ready" Cathy said brightly as Hermione rejoined her friend. The two nurses smiled at each other and grabbed a trolley each. "I'll do Mrs Jenkin's ward" said Cathy, giving her friend a sympathetic glance.

            "Thanks."

            After tea, Cathy and Hermione walked to the bus stop. Hermione lived only three stops away and Cathy stayed about six stops away. Her parents had bought a new house to strengthen the success of the concealment charm. Today, Cathy got on a different bus because she was going into town to meet Thomas. The two ladies waved goodbye to each other.   "Remember to bring your blue scarf for me tomorrow!" called Cathy, as the bus pulled away.

            "Yes!"

            Hermione got onto her own bus.

            "Home darling?" Katherine Granger popped her head out of the kitchen as her daughter took off her coat in the hall. "You're early today"

            "The ward's been quiet. Not too many winter colds or pneumonia this year."

            "Well, I got home from the office early and I'm fixing shepherd's pie for dinner –your father will be home any moment. Why don't you go and wash up and help me fix the salad?"

            "Sure mum"

            Hermione changed out of her nurse's uniform and entered the kitchen. Although she had recently had a baby, she had lost a lot of weight over the last three months and was even thinner than before her pregnancy. Her mother eyed her critically.

            "Still no appetite?"

            Hermione shook her head. "Not much, but I really feel a lot better." She grabbed the lettuce and chopping board.

            Katherine Granger didn't go on. She knew what a sensitive topic it was for Hermione.

            "There's a good movie showing now "Truth or Dare", why don't you and Cathy go and watch it this weekend?"

            "Sure, though I was thinking of going shopping in London. I need some new clothes now I'm back in the muggle-world so much."

            "Of course." Her mother mashed the potatoes thoughtfully. "How about asking Ralph to accompany you? He told me that he wanted to go down to London to look around his Head Office sometime soon."

            "Mum, Ralph is a bore. I couldn't bear driving an hour with him in a car. I'd rather take the train."

            "But you can talk more in a car. And he's not a bore, such a nice young man, and recently promoted to Division Manager."

            Hermione realized what her mother was doing. "Give it up mum! I'm not going along with your little matchmaking schemes! I just had a baby with Draco Malfoy for heaven's sake!"

            "All right, all right. I was just trying to help. I just thought some male company might be good for you. Take your mind off things. You don't have to marry Ralph or anything."

            "I should hope not- I will never, never go out with another man!"

            Katherine Granger nodded and put the pie in the oven. Young love was so passionate and rash- she only hoped Hermione's admirable sentiments would last.

            That night after dinner, Hermione sneaked her wand out in her bedroom and transfigured her ring. She was not supposed to do magic anymore but she couldn't resist doing this. It had become almost a nightly habit.

"For a three-prize winner, you can be immensely thick!... Miss Granger, will you marry me?"

She smiled. Another memory came floating back.

            "Do you know you babble when you're nervous?...Why are you nervous, Hermione?"

If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the music from the Yule Ball, smell the water of the lake and feel the fine material of Draco's dress robes. She could feel Draco Malfoy's lips on her own. She could remember his hands stroking her confidently, pulling off her nightgown and exploring her body as she pulled him to her. Then the most painful but best memory of all, one that she only indulged in when she knew she could be alone to cry… The baby chortled and reached for Draco's blonde ponytail. "Oh no you don't!" Draco pitched his son forward and swung him around. The baby gurgled in glee. "Come, let's go and look at mummy, isn't she beautiful?"

            Hermione began to cry, as she had done for the past three months every time she thought of this moment. However, the crying had been getting shorter and shorter till now, after only a couple of sobs, she blew her nose and calmed down. She could do this. However long it took. She looked at the clock, it was one minute past midnight, "Happy Birthday Draco" she whispered into the darkness.

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            Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy walked towards the dark forest. They were going to apparate to the Dark Lord's castle. No one knew where it was located, not even Snape. All he knew was that he only had to say the word, "Sepulcralis Caecum" and they would apparate within its dungeons.

            "Remember your training, Malfoy" said Snape quietly. "It is time to put it to use."

            Draco nodded. His throat was dry. Since he had received his father's summons to the Dark Lord, he had not been able to get a proper night's rest. Snape sensed the younger man's worry and tried to say something uplifting.

            "You are well prepared to meet the Dark Lord- more prepared than I ever was. Answer simply, never try to be funny. If you feel him probing your thoughts, remember to blank out all emotion and resist the invasion. Stick to the story we have made up."

            "What's going to happen tonight?"

            "I don't know exactly. I think the Dark Lord wants to make sure that you- a curcial part of his plans for gaining immortality- are alive and well. And that you are prepared to serve him. You had better stick to the story we have made up if you value your life."

            Snape felt the mark on his arm begin to burn more hotly than before.

            "He won't kill me tonight….he needs my blood to perfect the Stone."

            "You fool…" Snape panted a little from the pain in his arm, "There are worse things than killing you the Dark Lord can do. Just shut up and everything will go smoothly then we can get the hell out of there."         

            The two men reached a little clearing in the forest. Draco thought he heard a howl. The mark on Snapes arm was burning so painfully Snape thought he might scream at any moment. It was time.

            "Sepulcralis Caecum"

            "Come forward, Draco Malfoy" ordered tall figure in blood-red robes. He wore a white skull mask.

            "My Lord" a black-hooded figure broke away from the ring of similarly dressed men surrounding the central figure. He approached the Voldemort and knelt down in front of him.

            "Another faithful Malfoy to serve me!" hissed the figure as it drew a short dagger with a scalloped blade from among its robes. Though human in form, the hands of the figure were reddish-black and scaly. "Do you know what this is?"

            "It is the Niger Novacula, the sacrificial blade used during ceremonies in the Dark Arts."

            "I see your father has trained you well," said the figure. "You may rise."

            Draco rose but kept his eyes cast down, not daring yet to meet the red slits that were the eyes of Voldemort.

            "Lucius Malfoy, come forward."

            Lucius obediently moved forward, his black velvet cloak swirled around him, his hands still held the diamond-topped cane. Voldemort stopped and surveyed father and son.

            "Remarkable. How alike the two of you are, as was Ladon Malfoy your grandfather….Lucius, do you freely give your son into my service?"

            "I do, My Lord."

            "You may return." Lucius stepped deferentially back.

            Draco raised his eyes to look at Voldemort. He couldn't repress a twinge of fear and revulsion when he looked into the slits of the red eyes behind the white skull mask.

            "Frightened, little Draco?" hissed the Voldemort. He began to laugh, a high, terrible laughter. "Frightened of Lord Voldemort? GOOD!"

            Draco felt nauseous and sick. There was something very evil in this dungeon. It felt like it was cursed. He tried to clear his mind, remembering what Snape had told him about mastering his emotions.

            "I do not fear you." He answered.

            Voldemort stopped laughing and Draco felt the rage in the figure flow into his mind…searching…But Draco concentrated on blocking him out. Feel nothing. You are an empty vessel. You are a machine.

            "Very well" said Voldemort, staring at him, "That is a change, all these other sniveling Death Eaters here fear me…tell me then Draco, what do you feel about me?"

            "You can help me gain power if I support you. The Malfoys want power and wealth- for this I am loyal to you." It was the words Lucius had told him his whole life,. He repeated them confidently.

            Voldemort nodded very slightly. "Your father does not fear me either- he is a loyal servant. A clever one. As you will be from tonight onwards." Voldemort turned and received a jar of black paste from one of the figures. He opened the bottle.

            "I have decided that it is time I mark you as one of my own. I have had very good reports from Severus Snape and your father about you lately. About how you are co-operating in the research Lucius is doing, how you are spying on that idiot Dumbledore. Shall we get started in the ceremony?"

            Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He sneaked a look at Snape who kept his face expressionless but Draco thought he could see worry in his eyes. Lucius Malfoy looked triumphant.

            "What's going on?" said Draco curtly. "I wasn't informed of any ceremony."

            "You sound exactly like your father…didn't he tell you that I would be giving you a little birthday present today?" chuckled Voldemort softly as he dipped the blade of the knife into the fluid and it began to turn black.

            Draco wanted to yell at Snape, wanted to curse his father…why hadn't anyone told him? He looked around the circle furiously, but he was too intelligent to try to resist or escape, he was badly outnumbered.

            "On your knees, Draco Malfoy."

Draco felt like the Imperius curse had been put on him. He sank to his knees. Keep calm. Whatever Voldemort does to me, if I resist inwardly, he can never really have me.

"Give me your right arm"

Draco felt the strange compulsion to follow Volemort's orders again. However, he told himself, I am choosing to give him my arm. I can take it back if I want to sure enough, he managed to hold his hand back for a fraction of a second and thatreassured him that his will was still his own.

Voldemort held the black dagger above his right forearm and muttered an incantation. Draco knew that he was about to receive the Dark Mark. Why hadn't Snape told him? He hadn't been prepared for this- this was a flthy, obscene mark…it would mark him as a Death Eater from this day forward! It was everything he had fought against! His mind swirled in a nauseous mix of emotions. Hermione, forgive me!

The hand of the Dark Lord hesitated as it approached his arm. It seemed the Dark Lord knew something…then it happened all too soon.

The Niger Novacula plunged deep into his arm and Draco felt his blood spray onto his own face.

The  pain was beyond imagination. It seemed that as the blade entered his flesh, he saw worms, decay, entering his body- his mind was ravaged with horrible images…burning flesh, rotting meat, blasphemous creatures… all the horrors of the Dark Arts. He did his best not to scream but it broke out from him before he could stop it. Even Lucius Malfoy flinched at the hideous screams of his only son.

Then it was over.

Draco lay on the floor, bathed in a cold sweat. He was covered in his own blood. The wound on his arm had healed rapidly but was replaced by a black scar shaped like a skull. Voldemort cleaned the blade on his robes and returned it to a table behind him. Draco's eyes rolled into his head and he began to breathe shallowly. Then, he suddenly shook his head and with a determined effort, sat up.

He was filled with rage and hatred. Rage against Snape who had not prepared him for this moment. Hatred at his father and Voldemort for claiming him for the Dark Arts. Hatred at himself for not anticipating this and resisting.

He felt the mind of the Dark Lord entering his own. Anger? Hatred? Good, good Draco Malfoy. Feel it all!

The scar on his arm faded till it resembled his own flesh. Draco knew the dark mark would not burn till he was summoned again. He avoided meeting Snape's eyes. Instead, he tried desperately to calm himself down. He looked straight into the eyes of Lord Voldemort and knelt before him.

"I serve you, My Lord."

Voldemort laughed again. A high, cold, laughter.

"Good! Then take your place by your father's side, and let's begin the meeting."

Draco marched to his father's side but avoided looking at Lucius'gloating face. Or at Snape's agitated one. For the rest of the meeting, Draco closed himself off to the Death Eaters, he was a hollow person. Do not touch me.

Later, he would remember the terrible dark plans that were discussed that night. How he had seen Voldemort inflict the Cruciatus curse on some of the Death Eaters who displeased him, they screamed in agony and one even lost control of his bowels. And finally, how he had watched as a beautiful unicorn was brought in and bled to death by Goyle. The blood was collected in a goblet for Voldemort to drink.

*****************************************  

            After the meeting, Voldemort dismissed his Death Eaters except for one. Lucius Malfoy stayed for counsel with his Lord. Voldemort had sensed a weakness in Draco's soul the minute before the Niger Novacula had plunged into his flesh.

            "Do you know that your son is in love Lucius?"

            Lucius looked appalled. "There has never been any woman, my Lord. I would have known."

            Voldemort paced slowly in the dungeon.

            "I suppose it is of no consequence. But Lucius, remember that being in love makes one weak…I told yourself so twenty years ago. Was I not correct?"

            Lucius spoke calmly, "You were right, my Lord. Love clouds the intellect, impairs judgment."

            "So if your son were….afflicted…in this way, it could mean trouble."

            "I will find out more for you, my Lord."

            "And put an end to it. I cannot risk your son, of all people, turning from me now, when we are so close."

            Lucius looked at the back of Voldemort as he ascended the stairs.

            "Put an end to it? My Lord?"

            "You know what I mean."

            Then he vanished.