Chapter 3

Draco opened his eyes to find himself looking at the green hangings of his four-poster, breathing shallowly as if he had been running meter. He put an arm over his eyes and found that he was sweating.

There he goes again, Draco thought. Shit. Why do I have to see him in my dreams? He sat up and threw his blanket off his body. The sudden change in temperature made him shiver for a moment. He got off his bed and made his way to the bathroom, where he began to splash cold water on his face.

He stared at his reflection on the mirror. For a fleeting moment, he had the urge to smash the mirror to pieces. His eyes grew cold with hate as he recalled Voldemort's snake-like face. He shook his head stubbornly. I've made up my mind. I am not siding with a thing as repulsive as you, Voldemort, he thought as he splashed water over his reflection, causing his face to look like it was deformed and shaky.

He glared one last time at the mirror, seeing not himself but the Dark Lord, before going back to bed to resume his sleep.

"Yeah, well guess what. I'd visited Grawpy durin' v'cation, an' he's got a girlfriend!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at the Hogwarts gamekeeper in shock.

"G-Grawp has a girlfriend?" Hermione asked with a gulp. She tried her best not to look afraid or disgusted, lest she offend Hagrid.

"Yeah!" the half-giant said, his face positively beaming. He turned his head to the class behind him, glancing at the students who were busy tackling Kompos. "Her name's Ruuda. Nice lil' lady. Speaks a good 'mount o' British, so we got along quite well."

The trio tried not to look horrified when he said "nice lil' lady." They knew only too well that "nice" and "little" for Hagrid meant "terrifying" and "enormous" for normal people. Hagrid was well known for his intense liking for monsters and hazardous creatures.

"Hagrid," Harry said. "Where is Grawp staying now?"

"Eh? He's in tha' mountain over there," Hagrid replied, pointing to a peak not far off the west side of Hogwarts. "Ruuda says they've bin thinkin' o' getting' some young 'uns. I can't wait! I'm gunna be an Uncle!" He put down the bucket in his hand with a clang. "Well, I better dismiss yeh kids. Go on!" he said to the class. "Put 'em in the pen. Tha's it. Lead em gen'ly then yeh may go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione led their own Kompos into the large pen built on the boundary of the Forbidden Forest. Picking up their bags and books, they waved a goodbye to Hagrid and set off for the castle.

"Imagine that, though," Hermione murmured worriedly. "They're just a mountain away. If Ruuda gives birth to many children, it'd be a mountain of giants. What a disaster!"

"Honestly, Hermione," Ron said; though both he and Harry were nodding gravely for they were thinking the same thing as she was. "You are the only one nice enough to call them children. I think 'monsters' is a more appropriate term. But what do you think their offspring would look like? You think it'd be as repulsive as the troll we saw in first year?" He shivered unpleasantly as he recalled the incident six years ago.

"Ron, they're giants, not trolls. Those are two different things." With that, Hermione launched into an explanation of the differences between the two, and Harry and Ron saw this as their cue to start talking about something else—like the Divination homework they had to submit.

"And besides, though big, trolls are just plain stupid, while giants have brains and can think for them—are you even listening to what I am saying?" Hermione asked in the middle of her explanation.

"Of course, Hermione," Harry said promptly. "You were talking about hsdfiybgddtrollsandgiantszxcvjgb," he said purposely slurring his words to annoy Hermione.

"You see, Herm," Ron started to say. "We actually do liste—aaah!" He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a small worm on the grass. Someone had tripped him.

He heard a snigger to his right, and he, Harry and Hermione turned their heads to that direction. Draco Malfoy was standing not far away, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Bonding with nature, Weasley?" he asked, a smirk on his pale pointed face. "Or is it just because of those feet. Hard life having large ones, isn't it?"

Ron's ears turned red at the insult. "Shove off, Malfoy," he said hotly as he rose to his feet. He glared at the offending blonde in front of them. "What's your problem?"

Draco only smirked at them, and Hermione tried to hold Ron back for he was taking a threatening step towards Draco. Harry on the other hand, looked as if he was in pain. And in pain he was. His scar was throbbing very much that he had the crazy notion that Voldemort was very near.

At the same time, Draco paled. He felt… weird. It was as if there was something inside of him that had just made its presence known. In a moment he knew that it was not a something but a someone. Voldemort has linked minds with him, making Harry's notion true in a way.

"Draco," said the cold voice from inside of him.

Draco could feel the eyes of the three Gryffindors before him. He saw them look strangely at him as his face turned white as a sheet.

"Hello?" Ron called, waving a hand before Draco's eyes, who only stood still. "What's up with Malfoy?" he asked Harry and Hermione, who both shrugged indifferently.

Draco managed to pull himself together and shook his head as if to get rid of something disgusting on it. He glared at the three of them before walking away without a word. He went on and did not stop until he was sure that there would be no one to overhear what would take place.

"Yes?" Draco said. To outsiders it might look as if he was talking to himself, but in fact he was not. "What is it?" He heard the cold voice again just as he finished saying the last word, and this time it was angry.

"Respect, young Malfoy," Voldemort said. "The Dark Lord will not tolerate being spoken to in that manner."

Draco flinched as he heard it. He could almost feel the Dark Lord's anger at his so called insolence. "Yes, My Lord," he said as meekly as he could. "Forgive me for my earlier actions. I shall make sure not to commit the same mistake again."

"That you shall. To speak of what I need of you, I want you to come here tonight."

"Tonight, sir?" Draco asked, slightly alarmed by the sudden arrangement. "But—"

"Tonight, Malfoy," Voldemort replied sharply, sounding very annoyed. "I do not like reiterating my words. You ought to be prepared to come at your Lord's orders anytime they are given… unless, of course, you are not sincere about your service. You Father was enough of a disappointment. I had hoped you were better." By the tone of his voice, he sounded almost like he knew Draco was not loyal, and it chilled the latter to the bone.

"Of course not, My Lord," Draco declared, shaking his head. Then he remembered that Voldemort could not see him anyway, and stopped himself in mid-shake.

"Very well. I am counting on your presence in tonight's meeting. And bring your Mother along. There is something which I want you to see." Without so much as a "Goodbye," he cut off the connection and left Draco rooted to the spot.

Draco stood still in his place, still slightly shaken and slightly pale. He never got used to having Voldemort suddenly pop into his head, though it has been happening for four years already. It has always been a freaky experience to have him inside his head with no forewarning, whatsoever, and he always hated it.

He shook himself out of his reverie and made his way back towards the castle. If he were to remain standing there like an idiot, someone might come along and ask him why he looked pale. Paler than usual, at least. People loved asking him those types of questions when he didn't have Crabbe or Goyle by his side. Well, either way he didn't have any satisfying answer to say. He probably wont's be able to speak, lest of all tell anyone that the reason he was looking pale was because he had just spoken to Voldemort.

Realizing that he was holding his breath, Draco released it in a warm puff of air. He tried to calm himself by assuring himself that, no matter what, he'd never be a true Death Eater. For now he had to pretend to be a loyal servant until he had devised a plan to sell Voldemort to the Light without suspicion from the Dark Side. For now he had to suffer.

Watch out, Voldemort, he thought. I will get rid of you… one day. And when that day comes you will regret that you ever taught me all those Dark stuff, because they will be the fall of you.

Draco walked down the corridor with his Mother, Narcissa, by his arm. He was wearing a black robe with a skull embroidered on its left side. It was a Death Eater's robe, but since he was not a full-fledged Death Eater yet, the crest lacked the serpent that was supposed to be protruding from the mouth. As soon as the person wearing the robe receives the Dark Mark, the crest is completed and a ceremony is held to welcome the new member into the circle.

He privately wished that the crest on his robe would never have to be completed.

Draco's eyes moved to his Mother as she continued to hold onto his arm. She looked stunning, as usual, in her blood-red satin robe and wavy white-blonde hair. She walked along with much poise and confidence, but he knew his Mother well enough to know that she was trembling inside. She hated Voldemort much more than he did, but she always did a great job of hiding it under her snobbish and bossy exterior.

Narcissa spotted Draco looking at her, and she smiled at her son. "What is it, Draco?" she asked, her voice low and silvery. "Is there anything on my face?"

Draco smiled back and shook his head. "On the contrary, Mother, you look dashing, as you always do." He knew his Mother loved being complimented on her looks, but he did it not just because she wants it but because it was true. If she weren't his Mother, he would have already developed a crush on her, for even at 48 she looked like she was only in her early thirties. "I must say, I have the perfect genes in me. A handsome Father, a ravishing Mother… what more can an equally alluring seventeen year-old wizard ask for?"

The fear in her eyes vanished for a few seconds as she laughed, her eyes twinkling. "There is no need to flatter me so, son."

"But, Mother, it is not flattery. You really do look great. I've told you that since I was small, and you know that you do look good. What is the use of denying it?" He saw the fear return to her eyes as they neared the door at the end of the corridor, and he turned his head so that he was facing it. He squeezed his Mother's arm reassuredly. "Don't worry, Mother. I will not let anyone in that room touch you."

Narcissa squeezed his arm in turn. "I know, Draco. But you know how much I despise your Father's friends, and I would readily give all our Galleons away if I could be assured that our family would never have to be associated with those people ever again."

Draco nodded to show that he understood. "But be careful, Mother. If anyone learns of that secret wish of yours, chances are it would be less likely to happen. They would make sure of that." He paused just outside the door, one hand resting on it. "Are you sure you will be okay?"

Narcissa smiled and nodded, and Draco pushed open the door.

Many pairs of eyes stared at them as they entered, but only one pair in the middle of the room commanded his attention. And that was Voldemort's.

"Draco," said the Dark Lord in his cold and menacing voice. "How nice of you to join us. And you too, Narcissa. I had begun to think you would never come." He gestured to the crowd before him. "Join us, Malfoys. You are just in time."

At his words, as if on cue, a door to his right opened and out stepped a young man followed by two Death Eaters. The boy couldn't have been more than 20. He had sandy-blonde hair, a square jaw and two black intense eyes. He had an evil look about him, and Draco had a hard time trying to decide whom he looked like.

"Witches and Wizards," Voldemort started. "We have here the son of our very own Mr. Avery. He just graduated from Durmstrang, and is here before us to officially become part of us. In a few moments time, he will be receiving the Dark Mark, the first ever since my return." He turned to face Gerald Avery, who did not flinch at all as he faced the Dark Lord. "Come forward, Avery."

Gerald immediately complied, stepping up to Voldemort without the slightest hesitancy. As soon as he reached Voldemort, he fell to his knees and began kissing the hem of his robes, as he had seen his Father do countless times. This pleased Voldemort.

"Rise," he ordered.

Gerald stood up and faced the Dark Lord who held him by the chin as if to examine his face. Feeling that he had to impress Voldemort, he put on a cold expression. Not directed to the man in front of him, of course. He just wanted to make sure that he did not look intimidated but instead looked evil.

Voldemort smirked. He nodded at him and let him go. "Of course, you have to prove that you are indeed worthy of the Dark Mark." He turned an eye on Wormtail, who stepped aside and revealed a good looking woman who had been hidden behind him.

For the first time that evening, Gerald had a look of fear in his black eyes. He recognized her. She was his own mother, bound and gagged right in front of him. He saw the look of intense fear in her brown eyes mirroring his.

Voldemort watched the exchange between mother and son with his red snake-like eyes. "You know who this is, don't you, Gerald? Yes, your beloved Mother."

At these words, Draco turned to look at his own Mother. She had one hand covering her mouth, her face a mask of mixed horror and pity. He put a hand on her arm, and she turned to him with fearful eyes. He just stared at her, but he knew that she understood what he didn't dare voice in that room. I will never let anyone do anything like that to you.

"Kill her."

Voldemort's voice called their attention back to what was taking place before them, and Gerald looked into Gerald's face to see his reaction. So did all the other people in the room.

Gerald closed his eyes for a brief moment. It was very hard for him. He loved his Mother very much, and he would give anything to trade her for another girl to kill. But he can't. Opening his eyes, he nodded to Voldemort, then faced his Mother, whose eyes were wide with disbelief. He raised his wand and pointed it to her heart.

He met her eyes for a second, and he smiled at her. A genuine loving smile. "I love you, Mother," he whispered, his voice low and slightly cracking. "Thank you." Putting on a determined face, he opened his mouth and muttered Avada Kedavra.

A jet of green light escaped his wand and went straight for his Mother. Before she realized what was happening, she was dead and stiff. Walking over to his Mother with a pained expression that he tried to suppress, Gerald put a hand over her open eyes, and wiped them down to close her lids. He knew that the look on her face as she died would haunt him forever.

Voldemort nodded triumphantly at the slightly forlorn looking young man. "Well done, Avery," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now stand back. I will be giving you your Mark." He placed his hand into his pocket and extracted his wand, pointing it to Gerald. As he muttered a few words, a black mist began to surround Gerald, and the boy could be seen wincing as if in pain.

He finished the chant with the word iMosmordre/i, and the mist disappeared. Gerald seemed to have grown weak and fell to his knees, one hand clutching his left arm. He brushed his sleeve upward and on his arm, glowing a dark green, was the Dark Mark.

Voldemort stepped up to Gerald and took his arm, examining his handiwork. "Welcome, Avery, to the world of the Death Eaters." He let go and fixed him with a stare, as if waiting.

Gerald fell to his knees again and kissed the hem of his robes once more. "I am grateful, My Lord, that you have accepted me. I promise to serve you with unwavering loyalty." He kept his head bowed as he said this, afraid that Voldemort might see his sad and regretful eyes if he looked up.

"Rise," Voldemort said, and he did so, making everyone see that the crest on his robe has been completed. "And face your audience. Get used to them. They will be your comrades from this point on."

Gerald and Voldemort parted, each mingling with the other Death Eaters. At once the room was filled with quiet conversations.

"Let's get out of here, Mother," Draco whispered into Narcissa's ear. He tugged at her arm lightly and she followed him out of the door.

They disapparated back to the Malfoy Manor without so much as a word, until Draco left his Mother on the doorstep.

"Are you sure you will be okay, Mother?" he asked. Frankly, he was concerned. But Narcissa only smiled and kissed her son goodbye. Once she shut the door, Draco disapparated to Hogsmead, where he started his walk back to Hogwarts castle.

As he made his way to the Slytherin dungeons, he couldn't help but think of himself at his own initiation. Would Voldemort make him murder his Mother, too? Or would he make him kill someone else. A muggle, hopefully. Or maybe even one of the Weasleys. It shouldn't be that hard to kill a member of the family he hated the most. What with their stupid red hair, their stupid friendliness crap, their stupid love for one another…

Draco grinned wryly. He almost sounded like he was jealous of the stupid family. Well, he was not. And there will never be a Weasley murder, courtesy of him, at any rate. Not if it was on Voledmort's orders. Because he will never receive the Dark Mark. He will never allow himself to be ordered around by an ugly Dark Lord such as Voldemort.

Draco opened the door to his dormitory and collapsed on his bed, his eyes closed. It was a tiring night. He began to fall asleep, but he suddenly heard a loud snort from the opposite side of the room. Sitting up angrily, he took one of his pillows and threw it in that direction, where Goyle was snoring very loudly. He fell back to his bed again and fell into deep sleep, his own light snores buried under Goyle's muffled ones.

Next Chapter:

More insults, Hermione comparing Harry and Ron, and the move… to the Head suites, that is. :P Reviews!!!