Disclaimer: I bet people are getting sick of me saying this, but still have to do it...I don't own anything!
A/N: Hi, dear readers! I can update finally! I was hoping that I could update on Friday/Saturday...hoping that more people would have time to review p. Anyways...This is chapter eight! And it's a Dracocentric chapter, like memommy27 had suggested! R/R...I hope this time I can reach a highter number...I won't give a definite number to avoid disappointment...R/R!
Order
He was shocked. Still shocked. His mind was numbed with the words she had uttered so ruthlessly. So surely. So resolute. So determined.
"My debt is paid, Draco. Next time we meet, may only one of us survive."
It was blunt. Unreal to him.
His job was to select the elites to join them. To become full Death Eaters. Like him…only lesser. It was not a hard task.
Draco had not expected to see her there. He had not wanted to see her there. But he had.
The ambush started immediately when he arrived. He sank into the background. Like he was supposed to. Under his lord's orders, he was not to engage in any form of battle. This was the amateurs' test. He was to exit as soon as possible.
Dumbledore's opposition was expected.
But not hers.
He could kill Weasley without a second thought.
He could kill Potter without hesitation.
They could all die, for all he cared.
But not her. He didn't think he could raise his wand at her. Not without guilt. Not without those bitter sweet memories.
He did though. He did tonight, when she attacked.
He had been standing there observing the battle when she came. She'd emerged from the raging spells. Calm. Confident. Controlled.
As if she was not affected by the curses flying about. As if she had only one purpose.
His heart ached, seeing her again. So lovely. So frail. Yet so strong.
Tonight, the final thread of the past had been broken.
The Forbidden fruit was eaten; they'd been found out, and they were cast away from Eden for eternity.
From this night onwards, their line was set.
Fate had sealed their roads.
They were enemies. Soldiers, not lovers. No longer lovers.
Their love, the love that shouldn't have been, had died in this war.
He was hit when he approached his fallen lover. It was his fault, really, that he wasn't paying attention…or was too worried for her.
He understood.
He did, when she pointed her wand at him. Determined to end this. The pain. The sorrow. The fate that'd dictated their love.
She hadn't killed him tonight. She couldn't. She still loved him tonight. She let him know that she loved him, one last time.
By letting him go. By turning her back on him. Again.
He could have broken the body-binding jinx. Easily. He didn't have the strength though.
Her words…they killed him. He wished she didn't have that affect on him, yet she did. He still loved her…she mattered…she meant something to him…
"Malfoy!" said Blaise, who had helped him tonight, as they approached Lord Voldemort's chambers. "The Dark Lord wishes to see you!"
"Thanks, Zabini." He said, his throat parched. "I owe you."
Blaise slapped his back good-naturedly before leaving.
Draco stood before the intimidating door. The door was nothing special. It was just a wooden door framed with metal. But the occupant inside was vigorous. It was as if he was about to walk into the Judgment room.
In a sense, he was.
He knocked and waited for the admittance of his presence.
The door opened. Slowly.
Dread filled him as he entered.
He approached regal figure in his seat, with his snake next to him. Power filled the room. The room was well lit but the power that radiated in there dimmed it. It was the power he wanted. The power that he had, had a taste of and could not seem to shake off. It was a tempting and addictive taste. Yet in the Dark Lord's service, he could never truly have power. Power belonged only to Lord Voldemort. No one else but him.
The Dark Lord sat on his chair in the dais. A King. A Tyrant. A mighty figure, about to address his subject.
He kneeled. Humble before his lord. Showing his lack of power. His inferiority.
He resented that.
"How are the new recruits?" Lord Voldemort started. His voice was dry as the dead leaves chuffing on the floor.
"Dead, sire." His tone was steely, as was expected of him. In this room, he was a Death Eater. Lord Voldemort's right hand man. Cold. Emotionless. A killing machine.
"Indeed. Some of them had looked promising. A shame. The newest group has arrived. They shall be ready for testing in a month."
"Yes, my lord."
"Why were you detained? I do believe that I requested your presence back here."
"I was hindered by some of the Mudblood loving scum who broke through the easy defense of the recruits. Zabini and I took care of them." He said. Telling half-truths was his way of surviving.
"I see."
A pregnant silent resonated in the room. Soft candlelight flickered in the room. Yet it did not comfort him. Under the surveillance of the Dark Lord, nothing brought anything but dread. An everlasting fear.
"Was Potter present?"
"No, sire." He replied in perfect composure. "He was injured in our last encounter but he escaped with the help of his other muggle loving fools."
Another silence.
It was unnerving.
"Malfoy." The Dark Lord hissed sinisterly.
"Yes, my lord?"
"I want her dead."
Those horrid words were uttered without hesitation. Lives meant little to the Dark Lord in his climb to power. It was power that mattered. It was power that Lord Voldemort preached. The absolute control.
The room was deathly silent. Even the creatures of the night quieted. Only the hissing snake next to Lord dared to make any sound.
Lord Voldemort didn't know, did he?
"Who, my lord?"
"You know whom I talk about. The woman that has made you weak. The female flesh that made you hesitant to make the right decisions."
"There is no such woman, my liege." He tried to deny. He knew who the Dark Lord was talking about. He knew very well. But how could he bring himself to kill this woman.
Pain. That was what he felt next. A deep searing pain. An agony that could have only been caused by the Cruciatus spell.
He bit his lip. He was not supposed to scream. He must remain silent. It was his punishment. For his insolence.
"MALFOY!" Lord Voldemort roared, making Draco flinch. "Don't play the fool with me! I know this wench exists! You let Potter go because of her. I will say this once again. I want her dead. Hermione Granger must die. Or I will have your life instead!"
"Yes, my lord." Draco replied in his pain-fogged mind.
"Dismissed."
"Thank you, my lord."
He slowly, flaccidly left Lord Voldemort's chamber. He made his way back to his room and was glad to find no one had intruded upon his only sanctuary in this world.
This was his place.
He was alone. He could sleep.
He changed quickly and laid his weary body in the cold bed. No fire could truly warm his bed…he closed his eyes.
But rest did not come.
His mind was filled with horrid images. Images of their next encounter.
Blood. The curses. And the worst of all…the pain in her eyes. Her shame and her vow tonight.
He was scared. For the first time since he'd joined Lord Voldemort, he was petrified. Not for him. For Her. For the woman he loved in the land where the sun shone forever.
A/N: So what do you think? Please review, review, review! Christmas is approaching in both, our world and 'Mione's, worlds; I'm planning to have two to three chapters during this time and I'm wodering if anyone would be interested in a chapter/interlude of Draco and Hermione's christmas in their Seventh Year...If I get enough reviews saying that they wuold like a short, semi stand alone story of Seventh Year Christmas...then I will write one. R/R