In The Blood

Part One: Draco's POV

Johanna Riddle was a puzzle in herself, and I had no way of figuring her out.

But, she is very hot, if I do say so myself.

My name is Draco Malfoy, and with the Dark Lord as my witness, she will love me.

Since the end of my fourth year when my Lord re-appeared, we had been promised to each other, but we had never really "met" before the dinner at my family's Manor the other night. I had seen her before at Death-Eater meetings, sitting or standing behind Voldemort himself, quiet as a statue, looking as though she had indeed been carved out of stone.

When my father was broken out of Azkaban, the wizard prison, she was the one who delivered him back home, but she left before even my mother, ever the blabber mouth, could speak to her.

Johanna is an oddity, no doubt. For half of the meal the other night she acted disgusted with us, and then the other half she acted perfectly at home, as though she had always been raised in such a pure-blood atmosphere. She had smooth skin, pale as my hair, and a cold distance between herself and, not just me, but everyone in the room. It made me question what had caused her to become that way.

I was vaguely aware that she was one to take control; she talked confidently, and took control of the situation presented to her. I could tell I would like her.

My father, however, is another story.

"She is not a respectable woman," he said aloud at dinner the next day. I rolled my eyes discreetly, and my mother spoke up.

"Darling, she is a beautiful girl, and perfectly worthy of our blessings," she said barely above a whisper.

"She's not even a pure blood, at that! Her mother was an insolent muggle, and that's where she received her audacious attitude!"

"And why should she have to be pure-blood?" I spoke up loudly. I screamed at myself to stop, but, apparently, my mouth just wasn't listening. "She's our Lord's daughter; as good as us!" My mother's blue eyes stare at me in surprise, and I continued.

"Johanna isn't a Pure-blood, but would you really want to face the Dark Lord's wrath if I do not marry her?"

I was the first person since ruddy Potter to leave my father speechless, and knew I would pay for it later. Something about my father's disapproval made me want the Riddle even more.

The Dark Lord calls his Death-Eaters by touching one mark, and pain alerts us to his needs.

A few hours later those events had fallen in place, and we were called to the Riddle House, when it was almost midnight. Some members were already in their bed clothes, yet others stood in towels and robes, and more still stood fully dressed.

Inside the ring we created, Voldemort stood in the middle, Johanna