Title:The Serpent's Children
Rating: Yep,PG13, language is pretty bad in this one.
Hi all of you. Sorry it took such a bloody long time to update. I'm trying to take the writing methodically ya know, each one at a time. Anyway, this took some time and I hope someone likes it. The story's taking a more serious turn and the plot's coming out, or at least peeking out of the shadows for once. I hope that doesn't repel anyone or something. It's holidays now, v happy, and have watched pirates and Italian and all that, so, so happy!!
Please keep reading and reviewing, and enjoy the chapter. I did.
**************************************************************************** *********************************************
Hogwarts - present day
Pansy relaxed and breathed deeply. Thank whatever the hell was up there at the moment for hot baths. She had retreated straight to the Prefect's bathroom upon getting into Slytherin Tower, and at this point in time, nothing mattered but the great big bathtub she was in and the smell of jasmine-kissed incense. She left the water running and disappeared under the bubbles to rinse her hair, the magically-produced sounds of the Weird Sisters blaring out in the bathroom.
Bliss.
Bliss which was, unfortunately for her, extremely short-lived. The first thing she heard when she came up, pushing her brown hair back, was a scream. Herself screaming as well, she rubbed the water from her eyes to see one almost completely naked Draco Malfoy standing at the edge of the bath. He was holding a small towel to his..um..hips.. and cursing like there was no tomorrow. Shrieking again, she realized thankfully that the surface of the water was completely covered by foam, and therefore that she was decent. Sort of, anyway.
"Malfoy, what the HELL do you think you're doing?" she yelled, trying to sink as far below the little bubbles as possible.
"Fuck, I thought it couldn't get any bloody worse," he muttered, frantically trying to get his boxer shorts back on.
"You have three seconds to get your perverted arse out of this bathroom, Draco Malfoy, or so help me Merlin -,"
"Or what?"
Pansy's eyes registered the Great Blonde Prat staring at her with his eyes narrowed, clad in grey silk underwear, and felt herself literally boiling with rage.
"Or you will lose your reason for wearing boxers," she said, controlling herself with all her might.
Malfoy's eyes widened for a split second before he turned them into a "terrified" expression.
"Dear gods, you mean to come out of there! Mercy, I beg of you. If you do that, I will surely swear off women and turn queer!"
Pansy's face went red from pure fury. She grabbed a nearby bottle and hurled it with deadly accuracy. Malfoy, being many things but substantially a Quidditch Seeker, dodged literally by a hair, yelping as he did so.
"Bitch!" he cried, rubbing at the huge blob of women's lily-scented shampoo now on his head.
"OUT!" Pansy shouted, grabbing another bottle and chucking it at the now hastily retreating Prat. "Get out, get OUT, GET OUT!" she screamed.
She waved her right hand, and all of his possessions levitated about a foot into the air. She slapped her palm onto the side of the bath, and a cloak, a uniform, a prefects badge and a few books collided with the wall outside the bathroom. Upon hearing another yell of irritation from outside, she immediately snapped her fingers, slamming the door magically with some satisfaction.
'Hah,' she thought.
Pansy relaxed back into the hot water, closing her eyes and trying, unsuccessfully, to block Malfoy out of her head. 'Bastard,' she said mentally.
That night, Pansy sat herself down at the dinner table across 'Malfoy's two goons', as Vincent and Gregory were commonly referred to. They weren't that bad, just really unfortunate enough, like her, to be saddled with him. She was not in a mood to be nice to them, for she knew that HE would probably be coming to sit here as well. As luck would have it, the rest of the damn table was completely full of eating, joking, hexing and gossiping Slytherin students, and she was stuck where..ah bugger.
She was soon even further irritated by some strangely high-pitched giggling next to her. Dreading what she knew she would see, she turned her head slowly to the right to discover that she was seated next to none other than who must have been the most annoying people on the planet; two juniors named Marion and Suzanne. Both from well-to-do families, although of course not so well-to-do as the Malfoys or Parkinsons, both obsessed with their looks, and both obsessed with a certain blonde prat.
"Hello, Pansy!" they chorused.
Irked, Pansy forced a smile at them. "Good evening," she said.
They looked at each other. Then, Marion spoke a little nervously, sounding rather contrived.
"If it doesn't bother you too much, Pansy dear, would you mind moving over?" she said.
Pansy was surprised. "What?" she asked. Marion squeaked slightly and drew back.
Suzanne piped up. "Sorry, it's just that we were rather hoping to get to sit next to Draco," she said sweetly.
Oh, Salazar.
"Uh, sure," she choked out, scooting over to the side. She blinked, figuring how she could get out of dinner next to bloody Malfoy.
The girls squealed and began chatting excitedly.
"He'll be here any minute, right here!"
"He is so hot after Quidditch practice, I always feel like melting!"
Pansy raised her eyebrows, staring straight at her food.
"I know! Especially his bangs, they're just sooo sexy."
Now she was torn between feeling absolutely disgusted and trying to keep a straight face. She looked up, and Vincent gave her an apologetic smile.
"Oh, oh, here he comes!! Act cool, act cool."
Now she knew that she had to get out. Malfoy had made his way over and seated himself down right next to her.
"Hi Draco!" the girls chimed, rather like trained house elves, Pansy noticed. Magically, she packed her food and picked it up.
"Evening, ladies," he said smoothly.
Pansy got up to leave, saying goodbye to Vincent and Gregory, not unnoticed by Malfoy.
"Thank gods. I thought I might actually have to sit next to Parkinson while she attempted to eat. What a nightmare."
Pansy growled, but returned her expression to normal as she turned to look down at Malfoy. She pretended to sniff at the air.
"I say, Gregory," she said in her bitchiest tone. "Is that lily I smell?"
A pink tinge grew on Draco's normally fair cheeks and his hand flew to his hair. Crabbe and Goyle burst into laughter. They had obviously already heard of the bathroom incident. Both of them stopped laughing at a glare from Draco. Their half of the Slytherin table fell silent, watching the two with anticipation and in a few cases, fear.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Pansy. "You've got to watch what comes out of that mouth of yours, Parkinson."
Pansy narrowed hers right back at him. "Don't you wish I had to, Malfoy," she said, before turning on her heel to exit the Great Hall.
"What was she talking about, Draco?" asked Suzanne petulantly, bringing him back to dinner by practically attaching herself to his arm, much to the quickly masked chagrin of her friend.
Draco turned back to the two girls wanting desperately to talk to him and drawled, "What is she ever talking about?"
The girls giggled again, the table's occupants heaved a sigh and went on chatting, and dinner was resumed.
'Damn, my food's cold,' thought Pansy, putting it down on her bed. It seemed as if the coming winters weren't so far off after all, the long walk up to the Prefect's dormitory had left her dinner nearly frozen. She stared at the pasta sadly. 'Bastard just has to ruin my life,' she thought. Oh well. Nothing a little magic couldn't fix.
"Heat," she commanded softly. There was a slight glow as her food did her bidding. She picked up her plate and put it back onto her lap, burrowing her back deeper into her pillows. Then she picked up a novel and began to read, putting another forkful of penne into her mouth.
It was warmer, but only a little. Nowhere near the temperature it was supposed to be. Pansy frowned, stopping her chewing. This could mean a few things. She was either burned out, ridiculously stressed or not concentrating. Or perhaps two of them, or possibly all three. She cursed, and tried again. The same thing happened with equally minimal rise in the food's temperature. 'Damn Malfoy. Damn him,' she thought, eating her miserably cold pasta viciously.
Elsewhere, Draco was getting into his shower when he was rudely surprised by a huge snake in his bathroom.
"Gaah!" he said. 'Why can't I go to the damn bathroom today without having the bollocks shocked out of me?' he wondered.
The snake stared at him coolly, nearly smugly. It carried a slip of parchment in its mouth, which it put down before Draco gracefully. It raised its lovely neck up again and continued to stare at Draco. If it had had a nose, it would have been turned up.
"Here," said Draco. "I'm not a bloody Parseltongue. Piss off. What d'you think you're looking at?"
The snake narrowed its eyes at Draco, then turned daintily and slithered off with amazing speed.
Draco picked up the dreaded parchment. Written on it was a specified time.
"Bugger," he said.
He was saying it again, nearly two hours later as he stalked down the corridor to another Prefect's dormitory. Checking that nobody was around, he said the password and then entered quietly. The room was dark save for the soothing blue flame of an enchanted candle. Cursing, he opened up the curtains on the four poster bed.
Draco tried to pull off the bedcovers but the weight of a hell of a lot of books ('Gods this is messy,' he thought) plus some crockery said that perhaps this was not the best course of action. "Shit," he said, crawling up onto the bed. He had to take care not to stub his toes, knees, hands and other bits of his body as he made his way to the sleeping figure at the other end.
After much tripping over and dropping off, and even getting bitten by mysterious objects he reached his destination. He jabbed it in the ribs.
Nothing happened. He tried it again, and the sleeping basilisk turned slightly and reached up, effectively slapping Draco in the head before snuggling back into dear sleep.
"Ow! Damn!" he said. Right. He'd had enough. "Get up, Parkinson!" he barked.
Parkinson bolted upright in bed, eyes wide open, knocking Draco out of the bed and firing out the chronology of events happening in the five hundred and twelfth goblin war. It had been over gold.
She stopped, her eyebrows furrowed. She looked about her, and heard a familiar voice cursing from the floor.
"Malfoy?" she asked, half asleep. Half asleep though she was, her ever present intolerance for Draco manifested itself as if it were reflex. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing in my bed, you goddamn pervert? What the bleeding hell is wrong with you? Can't a person even rest in fucking peace without you fucking screwing up their fucking sleep? What do I have to do to get you the hell away from me?"
"It's not a bed, it's a sty!" Draco retorted, rubbing his head because of her for the second time that day. "I always knew you were a damn pig but I didn't know how far you went. Bitch," he added, folding his arms and looking at her expectantly.
Then she woke up. "Oh shit," she said, realizing exactly what he was doing in her bed.
Draco merely nodded pointedly.
"What time?" she asked
"Thirty minutes. Ten til we have to go."
Pansy practically jumped out of bed, striding to the bathroom soberly as possible when one's hair is sticking up in the funniest directions. Draco didn't laugh. He tried to sit down on her bed, but opted instead for a chair nearby when a fork poked his bum. There was nothing in his eyes that suggested that what he and Pansy were doing was in any way out of the ordinary. The same expression was on Pansy's face as she emerged form the bathroom two minutes later, tying her hair into a low bun. Solemn, thoughtful. Completely silent.
She was clad in a black cloak identical to the one Draco was wearing. On them were huge hoods and identical silver clasps across the chest. Their hands and feet were covered in black leather gloves and boots. As a result, when their hoods were down, their identities were unintelligible, with no indication of their hair colours, facial feature or genders.
Pansy walked over to her bed and closed up all the curtains as Draco walked over to a well known spot on a rug and sat down elegantly, folding his legs beneath him. "Locking up the barn, I see," he remarked. "Shut up," spat Pansy. She walked over to him and sat across him in the same manner. At a nod from Draco, the two Slytherins simultaneously put down their large hoods and removed that bit of the rug. Underneath the rug was smooth, cold stone. They stayed like this for some time. All of this was done as routinely as one might brush one's teeth in the morning. Without question or hesitation, not even resignation.
At length, the stone melted away to reveal a small cavity in he floor. Inside the cavity was a stone carving of a skull and two snakes. Pansy and Draco held their hands just above the carving with practiced efficiency. "One," said Draco clearly. The eyes in the carved skull began to glow, dimly at first and then growing steadily brighter. "Two," replied Pansy. The glow turned a deep, pulsing red. At "Three," from Draco, they touched their gloved hands onto the now blinding glare, and disappeared.
Seconds later, in a dark room, another two cloaked shadows appeared at the statue of the Dark Mark. They stood up with familiar synchronization and one of them led the way to an empty spot in the circle of identical shapes.
Near them, a cool, low voice muttered, "You're late."
"Forgive me," replied Draco equally inaudibly. He couldn't tell which cloaked shadow his father was, but he didn't need to. Neither moved nor reacted outwardly to one another. Beside Draco, Pansy kept silent, knowing full well what was to be done and what was not.
Almost immediately, an ethereal figure appeared in the center of the circle. The silence which had previously shrouded the room now drowned it, increasing in volume until there was no space for anything but it.
"My friends," said the ghostlike shape. "My family."
One by one, the circle went down one knee, heads bowed.
Lord Voldemort smiled and raised his hands. High backed chairs appeared behind every Death Eater present.
"Let us begin."
**************************************************************************** **********************************************
A/R(not n you should notice cos I don't leave notes. This 'r' stands for rant):haha! Cliffie? Is that considered a cliffie? Cos I'm not sure. Yes, we all knew it, they are Death Eaters! Well, not precisely Death Eaters, more like long term initiates or something, ya know, junior and stuff. The Little Death Eater Society. Bet that would go down well. And they've been doing this for a long time, evidently. Please review!! There should be a few confusing bits in this chapter, but anything I can think of will be cleared up in due time. Ask questions or something.
Anyway, thanks for reading, see you next chapter!!
Rating: Yep,PG13, language is pretty bad in this one.
Hi all of you. Sorry it took such a bloody long time to update. I'm trying to take the writing methodically ya know, each one at a time. Anyway, this took some time and I hope someone likes it. The story's taking a more serious turn and the plot's coming out, or at least peeking out of the shadows for once. I hope that doesn't repel anyone or something. It's holidays now, v happy, and have watched pirates and Italian and all that, so, so happy!!
Please keep reading and reviewing, and enjoy the chapter. I did.
**************************************************************************** *********************************************
Hogwarts - present day
Pansy relaxed and breathed deeply. Thank whatever the hell was up there at the moment for hot baths. She had retreated straight to the Prefect's bathroom upon getting into Slytherin Tower, and at this point in time, nothing mattered but the great big bathtub she was in and the smell of jasmine-kissed incense. She left the water running and disappeared under the bubbles to rinse her hair, the magically-produced sounds of the Weird Sisters blaring out in the bathroom.
Bliss.
Bliss which was, unfortunately for her, extremely short-lived. The first thing she heard when she came up, pushing her brown hair back, was a scream. Herself screaming as well, she rubbed the water from her eyes to see one almost completely naked Draco Malfoy standing at the edge of the bath. He was holding a small towel to his..um..hips.. and cursing like there was no tomorrow. Shrieking again, she realized thankfully that the surface of the water was completely covered by foam, and therefore that she was decent. Sort of, anyway.
"Malfoy, what the HELL do you think you're doing?" she yelled, trying to sink as far below the little bubbles as possible.
"Fuck, I thought it couldn't get any bloody worse," he muttered, frantically trying to get his boxer shorts back on.
"You have three seconds to get your perverted arse out of this bathroom, Draco Malfoy, or so help me Merlin -,"
"Or what?"
Pansy's eyes registered the Great Blonde Prat staring at her with his eyes narrowed, clad in grey silk underwear, and felt herself literally boiling with rage.
"Or you will lose your reason for wearing boxers," she said, controlling herself with all her might.
Malfoy's eyes widened for a split second before he turned them into a "terrified" expression.
"Dear gods, you mean to come out of there! Mercy, I beg of you. If you do that, I will surely swear off women and turn queer!"
Pansy's face went red from pure fury. She grabbed a nearby bottle and hurled it with deadly accuracy. Malfoy, being many things but substantially a Quidditch Seeker, dodged literally by a hair, yelping as he did so.
"Bitch!" he cried, rubbing at the huge blob of women's lily-scented shampoo now on his head.
"OUT!" Pansy shouted, grabbing another bottle and chucking it at the now hastily retreating Prat. "Get out, get OUT, GET OUT!" she screamed.
She waved her right hand, and all of his possessions levitated about a foot into the air. She slapped her palm onto the side of the bath, and a cloak, a uniform, a prefects badge and a few books collided with the wall outside the bathroom. Upon hearing another yell of irritation from outside, she immediately snapped her fingers, slamming the door magically with some satisfaction.
'Hah,' she thought.
Pansy relaxed back into the hot water, closing her eyes and trying, unsuccessfully, to block Malfoy out of her head. 'Bastard,' she said mentally.
That night, Pansy sat herself down at the dinner table across 'Malfoy's two goons', as Vincent and Gregory were commonly referred to. They weren't that bad, just really unfortunate enough, like her, to be saddled with him. She was not in a mood to be nice to them, for she knew that HE would probably be coming to sit here as well. As luck would have it, the rest of the damn table was completely full of eating, joking, hexing and gossiping Slytherin students, and she was stuck where..ah bugger.
She was soon even further irritated by some strangely high-pitched giggling next to her. Dreading what she knew she would see, she turned her head slowly to the right to discover that she was seated next to none other than who must have been the most annoying people on the planet; two juniors named Marion and Suzanne. Both from well-to-do families, although of course not so well-to-do as the Malfoys or Parkinsons, both obsessed with their looks, and both obsessed with a certain blonde prat.
"Hello, Pansy!" they chorused.
Irked, Pansy forced a smile at them. "Good evening," she said.
They looked at each other. Then, Marion spoke a little nervously, sounding rather contrived.
"If it doesn't bother you too much, Pansy dear, would you mind moving over?" she said.
Pansy was surprised. "What?" she asked. Marion squeaked slightly and drew back.
Suzanne piped up. "Sorry, it's just that we were rather hoping to get to sit next to Draco," she said sweetly.
Oh, Salazar.
"Uh, sure," she choked out, scooting over to the side. She blinked, figuring how she could get out of dinner next to bloody Malfoy.
The girls squealed and began chatting excitedly.
"He'll be here any minute, right here!"
"He is so hot after Quidditch practice, I always feel like melting!"
Pansy raised her eyebrows, staring straight at her food.
"I know! Especially his bangs, they're just sooo sexy."
Now she was torn between feeling absolutely disgusted and trying to keep a straight face. She looked up, and Vincent gave her an apologetic smile.
"Oh, oh, here he comes!! Act cool, act cool."
Now she knew that she had to get out. Malfoy had made his way over and seated himself down right next to her.
"Hi Draco!" the girls chimed, rather like trained house elves, Pansy noticed. Magically, she packed her food and picked it up.
"Evening, ladies," he said smoothly.
Pansy got up to leave, saying goodbye to Vincent and Gregory, not unnoticed by Malfoy.
"Thank gods. I thought I might actually have to sit next to Parkinson while she attempted to eat. What a nightmare."
Pansy growled, but returned her expression to normal as she turned to look down at Malfoy. She pretended to sniff at the air.
"I say, Gregory," she said in her bitchiest tone. "Is that lily I smell?"
A pink tinge grew on Draco's normally fair cheeks and his hand flew to his hair. Crabbe and Goyle burst into laughter. They had obviously already heard of the bathroom incident. Both of them stopped laughing at a glare from Draco. Their half of the Slytherin table fell silent, watching the two with anticipation and in a few cases, fear.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Pansy. "You've got to watch what comes out of that mouth of yours, Parkinson."
Pansy narrowed hers right back at him. "Don't you wish I had to, Malfoy," she said, before turning on her heel to exit the Great Hall.
"What was she talking about, Draco?" asked Suzanne petulantly, bringing him back to dinner by practically attaching herself to his arm, much to the quickly masked chagrin of her friend.
Draco turned back to the two girls wanting desperately to talk to him and drawled, "What is she ever talking about?"
The girls giggled again, the table's occupants heaved a sigh and went on chatting, and dinner was resumed.
'Damn, my food's cold,' thought Pansy, putting it down on her bed. It seemed as if the coming winters weren't so far off after all, the long walk up to the Prefect's dormitory had left her dinner nearly frozen. She stared at the pasta sadly. 'Bastard just has to ruin my life,' she thought. Oh well. Nothing a little magic couldn't fix.
"Heat," she commanded softly. There was a slight glow as her food did her bidding. She picked up her plate and put it back onto her lap, burrowing her back deeper into her pillows. Then she picked up a novel and began to read, putting another forkful of penne into her mouth.
It was warmer, but only a little. Nowhere near the temperature it was supposed to be. Pansy frowned, stopping her chewing. This could mean a few things. She was either burned out, ridiculously stressed or not concentrating. Or perhaps two of them, or possibly all three. She cursed, and tried again. The same thing happened with equally minimal rise in the food's temperature. 'Damn Malfoy. Damn him,' she thought, eating her miserably cold pasta viciously.
Elsewhere, Draco was getting into his shower when he was rudely surprised by a huge snake in his bathroom.
"Gaah!" he said. 'Why can't I go to the damn bathroom today without having the bollocks shocked out of me?' he wondered.
The snake stared at him coolly, nearly smugly. It carried a slip of parchment in its mouth, which it put down before Draco gracefully. It raised its lovely neck up again and continued to stare at Draco. If it had had a nose, it would have been turned up.
"Here," said Draco. "I'm not a bloody Parseltongue. Piss off. What d'you think you're looking at?"
The snake narrowed its eyes at Draco, then turned daintily and slithered off with amazing speed.
Draco picked up the dreaded parchment. Written on it was a specified time.
"Bugger," he said.
He was saying it again, nearly two hours later as he stalked down the corridor to another Prefect's dormitory. Checking that nobody was around, he said the password and then entered quietly. The room was dark save for the soothing blue flame of an enchanted candle. Cursing, he opened up the curtains on the four poster bed.
Draco tried to pull off the bedcovers but the weight of a hell of a lot of books ('Gods this is messy,' he thought) plus some crockery said that perhaps this was not the best course of action. "Shit," he said, crawling up onto the bed. He had to take care not to stub his toes, knees, hands and other bits of his body as he made his way to the sleeping figure at the other end.
After much tripping over and dropping off, and even getting bitten by mysterious objects he reached his destination. He jabbed it in the ribs.
Nothing happened. He tried it again, and the sleeping basilisk turned slightly and reached up, effectively slapping Draco in the head before snuggling back into dear sleep.
"Ow! Damn!" he said. Right. He'd had enough. "Get up, Parkinson!" he barked.
Parkinson bolted upright in bed, eyes wide open, knocking Draco out of the bed and firing out the chronology of events happening in the five hundred and twelfth goblin war. It had been over gold.
She stopped, her eyebrows furrowed. She looked about her, and heard a familiar voice cursing from the floor.
"Malfoy?" she asked, half asleep. Half asleep though she was, her ever present intolerance for Draco manifested itself as if it were reflex. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing in my bed, you goddamn pervert? What the bleeding hell is wrong with you? Can't a person even rest in fucking peace without you fucking screwing up their fucking sleep? What do I have to do to get you the hell away from me?"
"It's not a bed, it's a sty!" Draco retorted, rubbing his head because of her for the second time that day. "I always knew you were a damn pig but I didn't know how far you went. Bitch," he added, folding his arms and looking at her expectantly.
Then she woke up. "Oh shit," she said, realizing exactly what he was doing in her bed.
Draco merely nodded pointedly.
"What time?" she asked
"Thirty minutes. Ten til we have to go."
Pansy practically jumped out of bed, striding to the bathroom soberly as possible when one's hair is sticking up in the funniest directions. Draco didn't laugh. He tried to sit down on her bed, but opted instead for a chair nearby when a fork poked his bum. There was nothing in his eyes that suggested that what he and Pansy were doing was in any way out of the ordinary. The same expression was on Pansy's face as she emerged form the bathroom two minutes later, tying her hair into a low bun. Solemn, thoughtful. Completely silent.
She was clad in a black cloak identical to the one Draco was wearing. On them were huge hoods and identical silver clasps across the chest. Their hands and feet were covered in black leather gloves and boots. As a result, when their hoods were down, their identities were unintelligible, with no indication of their hair colours, facial feature or genders.
Pansy walked over to her bed and closed up all the curtains as Draco walked over to a well known spot on a rug and sat down elegantly, folding his legs beneath him. "Locking up the barn, I see," he remarked. "Shut up," spat Pansy. She walked over to him and sat across him in the same manner. At a nod from Draco, the two Slytherins simultaneously put down their large hoods and removed that bit of the rug. Underneath the rug was smooth, cold stone. They stayed like this for some time. All of this was done as routinely as one might brush one's teeth in the morning. Without question or hesitation, not even resignation.
At length, the stone melted away to reveal a small cavity in he floor. Inside the cavity was a stone carving of a skull and two snakes. Pansy and Draco held their hands just above the carving with practiced efficiency. "One," said Draco clearly. The eyes in the carved skull began to glow, dimly at first and then growing steadily brighter. "Two," replied Pansy. The glow turned a deep, pulsing red. At "Three," from Draco, they touched their gloved hands onto the now blinding glare, and disappeared.
Seconds later, in a dark room, another two cloaked shadows appeared at the statue of the Dark Mark. They stood up with familiar synchronization and one of them led the way to an empty spot in the circle of identical shapes.
Near them, a cool, low voice muttered, "You're late."
"Forgive me," replied Draco equally inaudibly. He couldn't tell which cloaked shadow his father was, but he didn't need to. Neither moved nor reacted outwardly to one another. Beside Draco, Pansy kept silent, knowing full well what was to be done and what was not.
Almost immediately, an ethereal figure appeared in the center of the circle. The silence which had previously shrouded the room now drowned it, increasing in volume until there was no space for anything but it.
"My friends," said the ghostlike shape. "My family."
One by one, the circle went down one knee, heads bowed.
Lord Voldemort smiled and raised his hands. High backed chairs appeared behind every Death Eater present.
"Let us begin."
**************************************************************************** **********************************************
A/R(not n you should notice cos I don't leave notes. This 'r' stands for rant):haha! Cliffie? Is that considered a cliffie? Cos I'm not sure. Yes, we all knew it, they are Death Eaters! Well, not precisely Death Eaters, more like long term initiates or something, ya know, junior and stuff. The Little Death Eater Society. Bet that would go down well. And they've been doing this for a long time, evidently. Please review!! There should be a few confusing bits in this chapter, but anything I can think of will be cleared up in due time. Ask questions or something.
Anyway, thanks for reading, see you next chapter!!