I'll Never Tell…
WARNING: Rated R for violence, sexual content,
swearing and overall darkness. Don't like, don't read. Flames only keep me warm
in winter.
NB: A dark Draco/Pansy shipping set in the sixth Hogwarts year. I own nothing.
Prologue: Induction to the Darkness
The young man stands unmoving in the circle of robed and masked Death-Eaters. Flames, emerald green in hue, dance around his legs but do not burn him. The Death-Eaters raise their wands simultaneously, each of them casting an identical symbol in emerald light. A gothic skull with a snake's cranium peering from it's gaping leer of a mouth. It is the infamous Dark Mark. And tonight the boy standing amidst their circle shall have that image forever marked upon his skin and soul.
There is a crash, and the flames around the young man's legs begin to spread out and take on a darker hue. A tall, emaciated figure appears amidst the flames, heavily robed. The Death-Eaters immediately bow before him, hiding their masked faces in an act of mingled fear and respect. It is Lord Voldemort, the master of all that is dark and malevolent. So powerful and unsettling is his presence that few have noticed the pasty, undernourished man on his left-hand side, whimpering in fear.
"Up!" His voice is raspy and he barely speaks above a whisper, but he has no need to. After all, he is the centre of attention here. The Death-Eaters obey him, rising to their feet. Their fear of him is obvious, even behind their masks. The only one to express no fear is the young man in the circle. This is, after all, the destiny that has been paved for him, and it is not the first time he has been in the presence of Lord Voldemort.
"Tonight, we shall receive another powerful and worthy member of the pureblood society into our congregation. He is still very young, as I am sure you are all aware, but it is to my knowledge that he has shown remarkable…talent in the areas in which our congregation is involved. He has also proved himself to, so far, be loyal to our side, which pleases me very much."
There is silence, and the flames grow higher and higher until the two in the circle are completely concealed from the Death-Eaters. Induction is nigh.
"Look into my eyes." Voldemort commands. The young man obeys, staring unwaveringly into orbs of darkened claret. Voldemort can sense the thinly disguised fear and confusion, but is unsurprised. After all, the young man has yet to reach his sixteenth year. Most Death-Eaters are at least seventeen on their induction, but as he informed the other Death-Eaters just moments ago, he has shown remarkable talent.
"Your arm, if you please." The young man takes a deep breath, and obeys, extending his left arm, and raising the sleeve of his black robe to above the elbow.
"Darkness Infinite!" Voldemort hisses, his wand pushing against the skin just below the man's elbow. A powerful, burning sensation takes over the young man's arm and he bites his tongue in order to prevent himself from screaming out loud because he knows that his Father is one of the masked Death Eaters in the circle. Showing pain would disgrace them both.
Finally, the pain begins to subside and just below his elbow is a Dark Mark, roughly the size of a Bronze Knut. It is black in colour for
the moment, but later will subside to pale pink. Voldemort waves his wand once more, and a mask appears in his hands. He hands it to the young man, who puts it on without question.
"You are now one of my followers, Draco Malfoy." He states. "We believe in and we fight for a society of the most powerful and the most pure of blood. Our aim is to rid society of those who are not worthy to practise the magic of purebloods, such as halflings, mudbloods, squibs, and, of course, the muggles who consider our existence to be only in the minds of their children. And once we have won the battle against those who are impure, our society shall be the way it was always meant to be. Pure and all-powerful." Voldemort pauses as he looks over the young man, then something resembling a smile stretches his unsightly face.
"Unfortunately, there are *some* purebloods that refuse to fight for what is right and are content to live in a filthy, tainted world where unworthy peoples are free to practise magic. And there are some pureblood *families* that are currently trying to break their loyalty to me by not allowing their children to be initiated. I assume that you have an idea of which family I am getting at?"
"The Parkinson family." Draco answered in a low voice. Like the Malfoys, the Parkinsons had once been highly prominent supporters of the dark. However, since the fall of Voldemort nearly sixteen years ago, they had abandoned the Dark arts and even after his resurrection, the Death Eaters of the Parkinson family, such as Pansy's parents Julius and Cassandra, had never been present at any of the meetings. Voldemort knew they had gone over to the side of Light, and that they also had every intention of taking Pansy to that side. Pansy was not a person that Voldemort could afford to lose to the light side. Intelligent, powerful, pureblood. She was made for the Dark side.
"I have a task for you, Draco Malfoy." Draco raised an eyebrow behind his mask.
"What kind of task?" He asked warily. Voldemort shrugged.
"Not a very complicated one. As you know, the Parkinsons have misplaced their loyalties and I think that maybe you could…persuade Pansy that the Darkness is for her."
"Persuasion? What *kind* of persuasion?" Voldemort gave him that sickly smile again.
"I want you to hurt her. Break her so badly that she can never be put back together the same way. Destroy her faith in all that is good, make her feel that she has nothing and nobody left and then, when she is completely broken, she will fall straight into our hands and will never be able to leave us."
