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"Rather risqué, yeah?" Blaise ran a finger down a drawing that depicted a different woman in a similar position that she had just been in. The man was the same, not only because of the name but because it was painfully accurate. It was almost as if the little Weasley had bedded him herself.
"Yes. A little." Draco glanced at the drawing but didn't seem vaguely interested. Blaise was surprised. Draco was a passionate person, but ever since she had seen him this summer, he had been strangely detached.
"What's your damage? You're starring in artful porn and you aren't off humiliating this girl. This Weasley." She ran a hand down his thigh and meowed into his ear. Blaise was irresistible. The Dark Lord had taken her before she wandered and he had to kill this interesting toy. No man got a Death Eater woman until the Dark Lord had dipped his quill. The girls had been raised as objects, trained to please men. In private, Blaise knew, many of them felt differently. They needed a queen, a cold, but female, touch.
"It's three in the morning, what do you want me to do?" He rolled over and made to sleep.
"React, for god's sake." She pulled on her robes and pushed out of the bed, breaking the sound spell. "And Heavens to Elizabeth, don't start getting doubts about initiations. I'll be forced to stun you."
"That's not it!" Draco whispered furiously. "I've never wanted anything as badly as to be a Death Eater, I've been raised in the Dark Arts. I eat, sleep, and breath anticipation. It's something else."
"Oh, okay. I hope you can still recognize sarcasm, I can. Go to bed, Draco. Don't get yourself killed." Draco grabbed her arm and kissed her, a satisfied smirk lingering on his lips. She caught her breath.
"Morag MacDougal looked a little lonely, why don't you just jump in with him. It's your job."
"Oh, I can see your anticipation is of the women's liberation. Fuck off and let me think for myself." She barely contained her urge to slam the door. Draco watched her go propping himself up with his arms behind his head. He closed the hangings and lit his wand back up, eagerly grabbing at the sketch book. There were drawings of him and of 'Tom' and 'Rick'.
"Muggles and blood traitors, I'm sure." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. There were a few ones that were indeed, rather risqué, and a couple of the Tremendous Trio that made him roll his eyes until his head hurt, but then there were the self portraits. There she sat, naked beneath black sheets. She clutched at her covers with an arm that bore the Dark Mark. Her eyes were frightened and her teeth gripped her lip. She made herself beautiful, but she wasn't tooting her own horn. He would never say it to anyone, but she was prettier than probably anyone of Hogwarts. She didn't act like it, but apparently she knew it. He probed, with his body magic and felt hostility, yet love in the drawings of himself. Longing in Rick's and Tom was lust. He was in most of the 'artful porn'. There was one that conveyed the same as Tom's. Exactly the same. It was an eerily accurate portrayal of the Dark Lord. It was a facial detail, except for a hand, small, girlish and freckled, caressing the face. The nails had been bitten. Draco couldn't shake the sense that the Dark Lord was being commanded by this hand. He scratched his head and slid the sketch book under the mattress.
He shivered. He knew where this came from and yet he couldn't believe. Wasn't this girl a Weasley? A good, noble do-gooding Weasley? What did this girl want? He realized with a start that she probably didn't know anymore than he did.
* * *
"Ginny?" Hermione pulled Ginny's hand away from her mouth. "Stop biting your nails. It drives your brother crazy and he'll be down in just a few minutes." Ginny rolled her eyes, but did as Hermione asked. "I know you hate it."
"Why should he dictate my nervous tics?" She thundered. "He's my brother, not my keeper."
"He's just nit picky, Gin. You know that as well as the rest of us. Everything has to be just so." Harry indicated with his hands and dug into his potatoes. He looked over her shoulder and sighed. "Luna's sitting by herself, why won't she just come sit with me?"
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you don't have to spend every waking minute together?" Hermione groaned. "We're much too young to be thinking about…"
"Alright, alright. She can sit on her own." Harry winked at Ginny, who looked down at her plate with a guilty lurch of her stomach. They would all hate her when she was on the other side. She tried to convince herself that she wouldn't mind, but a small part of her still needed approval from these people that she used to looked so adoringly up to. Harry was a normal person, not power-hungry as she was, but he was still the boy-who-lived. She would have used the power he had for something different.
"I liked Hawkeye." Harry was saying. "And I liked… Heyman?"
"Heyward. Duncan Heyward, yes I suppose I sort of fell for his character." Hermione said.
"What are you guys talking about?" Ginny asked.
"The Last of the Mohicans. A truly excellent novel about the American Independence War. It puts the English in a bad light, but so does every other text of the time. My dad says it's all true, but I still wouldn't have minded marrying Heyward."
"Me either." Harry chuckled. "I didn't like the sisters. Or the way Hawkeye was constantly apologizing and telling everyone he wasn't half-blood."
"I thought it was awfully sad when Alice offed herself in the end though. I always thought her a bit of a nutter, though. Cora, too." Ron sat down and pulled every plate within reach towards himself.
"I find it amazing that you can just jump right into a conversation and have no idea what we're talking about." Hermione commented.
"But I do know what you're talking about. Ginny, stop biting your nails." She made an impatient noise. "You know, the Mohicans thing has a lot of relevance to the war at hand. The independence of the light from the dark. Except things were much more gray back than." Ginny sat up at the familiar analogy.
"And to think I've ever doubted why I started dating you." She kissed Ron on the cheek.
"You've what?" He sputtered.
"Yeah, she's going to dump you for Heyward." Harry joked. Ron turned red around the ears.
"Hermione, how did you get my brother to read?" Ginny wanted to know.
"Made him start it and he liked it. The wizarding world needs to diversify their interests in a time like this." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "The way some people don't even know what a paper towel is," she glared for a moment at Ron, "is shameful."
"Why does everyone just say, in a time like this? Why can't you just say now that Lord Voldemort is back in power?" Harry complained. Ron flinched and Hermione blushed, but Ginny saw red.
"Don't say his name!" She shouted, drawing stares. "You don't deserve-!" She cut herself off, realizing what she was saying. Panting, she stood.
"Ginny, what has gotten into you? You used to-" Ron grabbed onto her hand.
"I know. I know, I'm sorry." She pulled her arm away and elbowed someone, before rushing away. Draco rubbed a spot on his chest and winced.
"Malfoy!" Both boys stood and Hermione pulled out her wand. "What do you want?" Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Oh sod it. You think I came over here to pick a fight with you mudbloods and blood-traitors? Think again." He picked up a handful of crisps and took a bite, before spitting it out. "Reeks of Muggle filth. You should have told me you've been eating these, Granger. Oh, look I've gone and started a fight. " Harry opened his mouth, but before he could do anything, Draco's wand was out and Harry was on the floor, bleeding from his head. Snape grabbed him from behind and dragged him away. But Draco watched as long as he could as Harry attracted a huge crowd.
"Foolish. Very foolish." Snape muttered. He let Draco go and pushed him towards the dungeons. "Your punishment will be fierce and no one will be pleased at your rashness."
"My father can no longer touch me. I am not yet under the Dark Lord's reign."
"You will be soon. It would be prudent to watch what you do in the public eye." Snape hissed. He swept back into the Great Hall. Draco saw something that made his step falter before running to his rooms.
Hermione watched as most of the Slytherins filed out of the Great Hall. Blaise Zabini shot her a last look and her heart gave a squeeze when their eyes met, she clutched Ron's arm. He looked at her and then up at the Great Hall doors. "Love?"
"I've never seen anyone so fast." She whispered so only Ron could hear. He swallowed and looked at Harry, muttering on the floor. He hadn't either.
* * *
Draco's breath was short as everyone began arguing amongst themselves. He flopped into a chair and was forgotten. "Everyone knows that we're out. We don't have the Dark Mark yet, which is the only thing incriminating. Whose to say we aren't going to pick a little tiff or two to show the blood-traitors and mudbloods what we're really about?" Blaise shouted to the crowd from a table she had jumped onto. Many people cheered. Morag MacDougal climbed onto the table beside her.
"I'd say performing dark magic on one of the most prominent figures of the resistance is pretty damn incriminating. It hurts the rest of us to show loyalty to those who can not control the impulses that should be kept under the hood of our garb. Do not listen to this… woman, who poisons your mind with the loyalty of her lover." Morag bellowed, and there were more cheers and yells. They turned quickly to Draco, before Blaise yelled out and captured their attention again.
"Must we get in a riot every time a new attack is formed? Must we create mutiny among a family that is one in the heart of the Dark Lord? Our leader has cautioned us against dark magic before we are able to pull a mask over our head and our sleeves down over the Dark Mark that will belong to everyone of you once you graduate. There are others in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and even… Gryffindor, who will expand our glorious ranks. They didn't not grow up in the heart. But we will not turn away a pureblood!"
"NO!" Came the cry. Morag looked surprised at Blaise, a brainless female, leading the crowd in making her decision.
"So why? Why do you want to turn away the son of the right hand man of our leader, our savior from rotten blood?" People looked at each other and murmured. "Because he burns with the need to exterminate the enemy? We all do. Did you see the way he struck Potter down?" She nodded appreciatively. Most of the crowd imitated her. "We are lucky to have such a force on our side. We shall celebrate his spells and remind him to use discretion no matter how eager he may get." She met Draco's eyes, and he nodded to her. "And we can all hope that we can become as gifted as Malfoy. And that we can all have practice at self-control in the days until we join the ranks of the Dark Lord." There were claps and cheers. Blaise and Morag jumped down and the crowd began to disperse. Snape stood at the entrance of the common room. Students pushed past him as he approached Blaise, his eyes cold, his hands slowly clapping. She grabbed onto Draco's shoulder. "You alright?" He nodded.
"A moving speech, Ms. Zabini." She nodded to her teacher suspiciously.
"The students needed to be contained." She defended.
"And suppose I had brought the Headmaster with me to collect Draco?" Her eyes widened slightly, but her face remained calm.
"I do not fear Dumbledore. He is a Muggle loving old fool. I would sooner leave Hogwarts than watch my tongue around that…"
"I would that you leave Hogwarts if that is indeed your attitude." Snape snapped.
"It is!" She yelped, finally becoming flustered, "to be under the reign of that, when I could be with the Dark Lord. What is it that keeps you from expelling me into the legions when you know I would be useful, more useful than bending the minds of foolish school children?"
"Exactly that. You have just let yourself show emotion. Your ability is ready for the Dark Lord's side, but I hope that in the year to come, you will learn to control your useless emotions. Harden your heart, Blaise, and you will be able to give it to the movement. Draco, come." Draco watched as Blaise relaxed her face and watched in uninterested indifference as they left.
"Do you think I'll be expelled?" He said to Snape, practicing keeping emotion from his voice. Snape glanced at him and didn't answer him for a moment.
"Dumbledore will keep you here, if only to keep you from the movement. I had not realized your abilities were such, Draco. I don't suppose that any student excels your powers."
"There was one, in my fifth year, that caught me unguarded."
"With your pants around your ankles?" Snape spat. He disapproved of the Dark Lord's lenient attitude of sex, and even the Dark Lord knew it.
"Don't be crude. She was being restrained and all of sudden she was a tornado of spells and hexes. I had no time to even retrieve my own wand from my own pockets before I was attacked."
"Interesting. Who was the girl?"
"Ginny Weasley." Snape coughed. Draco gave him a sharp look. "An excellent Bat Bogey curse. The best I think I've ever seen." A smile twitched Snape's lips. "Professor. There is something…"
"Yes."
"Has Weasley ever been accused of dabbling in the Dark Arts?"
"Not that I am aware of."
"Don't lie." Draco said dryly. "I grow tired of the practice. I know what I know, I want to hear it from you."
"Do not dare to order me around! I will tell you that in her first year, she was possessed by the Dark Lord. I am surprised your father didn't tell you. He was responsible."
"Are you really?" Snape didn't answer and instead said the password to Dumbledore's guardian and let Draco go in first. Dumbledore looked grave.
"You have acted rashly and foolishly."
"I know sir." He put tears into his voice and eyes and stared at his shoes. If Dumbledore met his eyes he might know what Draco was truly feeling. "I feel stupid about it."
"Mr. Potter is fine. I'm sure you are thrilled to hear it. Classes start in moments and he will be able to attend them without trouble." A bell blared and Dumbledore nodded, Draco saw through the corner of his eye. "You however, are stuck between a rock and a hard place. I should suspend you or expel, but I do not wish to have you away from the castle…"
"Sir?"
"For reasons of my own. A month's detention. During that period all your Quidditch privileges will be revoked." Draco made a noise. "You are lucky that I am not taking them away in a period where you will have a game. You are even more lucky I am not taking them away completely."
"To class." Snape pointed and snapped his fingers, his voice terse. "Hold off my class, while I speak with the Headmaster."
"Yes, sir." Draco bowed out of the room and headed down to the Potions classroom. The two teachers waited until they heard the gargoyle leap back into place, and had Fawkes check quickly to make sure that he was not pulling one over on them.
"I fear the graduating class." Snape admitted, slumping into a chair.
"Why?"
"None have equaled ability to Draco Malfoy, but many are close. They are powerful and their reasoning is becoming more and more seductive. Blaise Zabini. She is another one that troubles me. The Dark Lord has been considering, in the two years he has been back, to receive a queen. Blaise would be an ideal candidate. She is beautiful and strong-willed. People are allured by her. My house would have ripped Draco limb from limb if it had not been for her."
"You think she will be queen? She is very green."
"She is. But the Dark Lord prefers young flesh."
"You think she will be queen?" Dumbledore pressed.
"Yes. And then no. There is someone who preoccupies him, but no one knows who it is. It could be Blaise Zabini. But there is something that suggests to me that she will come out of no where. We have truly had no indication who it may be. But if I had to pick right now, she is who my choice would be."
"Thank you, Severus. You should get to your class." Snape nodded and exited. Dumbledore stroked his beard and collected his thoughts. If Severus was right, and he generally was, then the army of the Dark Lord would be a force to be reckoned with.
Back in the class, Blaise spoke quietly to Draco. Snape was five minutes late, but the class was too well-trained to do anything except murmur excitedly. Harry looked pale, surrounded by the Gryffindors, who glared over at the Slytherins. "There was something else you were saying?" Blaise whispered. Crabbe and Goyle were leaning in too, but they didn't seem to understand why.
"The Weasley girl. When Snape dragged me out of the hall. I saw her."
"I'm excited." Blaise said blandly. "Why is this important?"
"She was looking through the gap in the hinges. She had obviously seen what had just happened."
"Her and the rest of the Great Hall."
"Will you quit interrupting?" He snapped angrily. "I saw Weasley outside the Great Hall watching the big deal over Saint Potter and she was all flushed and…" He leaned in closer to her ear. "Blaise, she was smiling."
* * *
"So you don't believe in fairy stories, my love?" Tom swiped a hand down her waist. She growled with pleasure.
"Tom, you know better than that. I live a fairy story." Her voice was rich.
"So you have seen. Seen my power. Can you yet resist it?" The power crackled in his voice and around his hands. She shivered at the sight of the raw power.
"I can't. You've known from the beginning." She accused. He allowed himself an indulgent smile.
"You've learned."
"I have."
"Then I will not have to teach you the lesson in other ways." His eyes suddenly contracted.
"Don't waste your breath. You wouldn't dare." She snapped, angry as well. "Any other person that would have taken any longer, that would have kissed a Muggle to decide you would have killed. You will never kill me." He nodded as if he knew it.
"But we had better not let anyone know that you have such power over their Lord."
"Over their God." She whispered, close to his ear, eager to bed him. "My God."
Ginny woke up, knowing that someone's hands were on her sketchbook. She knew whose they were. He was touching with his magic. As he had done the night before. Her soul had touched those pages and she could feel his caress of her art.
Draco couldn't take his eyes off of the self-portrait that contained only Weasley, black sheets and a Dark Mark. He checked the title again and ran his fingers over it. Waiting for Tom.