Disclaimer: I won't own any of them...so i stop dreaming sometime ago.
A/N: Sorry people! I was gonna post it earlier, but due to some hindrance on my part...it's abt a day late! Sorry!...Anyways, this is chapter 10 and it's Draco centric, his account of Christmas! Second of the Christmas stories! I hope you like it!
Reasons
He could almost hear himself laughing.
Almost.
The irony. It was too much.
Death Eaters, people bent on the destruction of muggles and mudbloods, were celebrating Christmas. It was but only one of the most popular muggle festivals.
It was the privilege and honor of the elites to dine with their Lord tonight. Around the table in the gloomy dinning chamber, sat the men and women whom the dark Lord favored more than his other servants. From Avery at the end of the table, to his father to the Lestranges. The only ones left. The only senior Death Eaters left in Lord Voldemort's closest court. The others had been overtaken by them or killed.
For Avery, age was already corrupting his body. His eyes were failing him as were his ears. His mind was still sharp, fortunately. His strategies were still useful to the Lord this moment. Blaise was learning from him now and Blaise was a fast learner.
The Lestranges, his aunt and uncle, were with them too. The maniacal gleam still shone wildly in their eyes. Their thirst for power and above all else, pain, was written clearly on their faces like the first time Draco had met them. Their hands were shaking though. He had seen them shake in the torture chambers in Azkaban, which they'd overtook at the start of the war. Gripping their wands seemed to have become a hard task for them. Their words, too, had become slurred a short while ago. It was obvious that they, like Avery, were aging and stamina was leaving them.
His father, quite simply, was a jest. The fact that Lord Voldemort allowed him to attend dinner with them was to honor him, his son. He was not useful to the Dark Lord any longer. He would still make a very good servant, but he was not as useful as he was twenty years ago. His purpose had been lost since Draco joined and he knew it. But he still refused to accept it. He was still trying to find ways to crawl back into their Lord's grace.
These senior Death Eaters wouldn't be here for long. This would surely be their last dinner they would dine with their Lord. All of the remaining seniors would be replaced by new Death Eaters. Servants with stamina, strength and skills that the Dark Lord would manipulate for his uses alone.
Draco continued his stare down the table, waiting for the Dark Lord's arrival. Blaise, Pansy and Millicent sat in the places of the formerly favored servants of the Lord. They were the new powers in front of their Lord. All of them basking in the privilege and awesome taste of power Lord Voldemort presented them.
But none were attaining the true power.
Blaise sat opposite him, chatting politely with Millicent and Pansy. Draco sat silently in his spot, the right hand of the Dark Lord, and analyzed.
What were their reasons of joining? Ambitions? Desires? Coercions?
Did they have a choice?
He knew that he himself had joined for power. It was ambitions. It was desires. He'd wanted to be more than he was at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to be greater than his father. To outlive the constant shadow he'd projected onto his young life.
Millicent, she wanted this. She hadn't been coerced into this like Goyle and Crabbe. She was a second Bellatrix. Only younger. Eager to please the Dark Lord and she loved to hear the screams of people in pain. She enjoyed what she had. Immensely. He could tell from her eagerness. The place in which she sat today was Bellatrix's and it would be hers for a long time.
Pansy, his childhood friend, was a doll, like his mother. A featherhead. Literally. She had never been presented a choice, like him. She had never made a choice. Her road was set for her and she had never questioned it. It was what a prosperous pureblood family did to their females. They distinguished the fire. From the moment she had been born, she served one purpose. Only one. To marry into a favored pureblood family. Namely, his. She was here because he was. He wasn't sure if Pansy knew her fate. Knew of the control, the cage around her. If she did, she showed no indication that she was dissatisfied by it. But then again, Pansy was a cunning woman; she wouldn't single herself out in such dangerous times.
Blaise, he knew, was here for two reasons. His family and Pansy. The Zabini family had never joined the First War. Their lineage, unlike most conventional Slytherin families, had built their household on love. There was hardly any thirst for power in the Zabinis. They were what Draco would have imagined Weasley's family was like. When Lord Voldemort had threatened the lives of Blaise's family, he joined without a second word. There was, of course, another motive behind Blaise's addition in their circle- Pansy. Since sometime ago, Draco had noticed the man's infatuation with Pansy. It may have started out as a schoolboy crush, but it had become more than that now. But the feelings were unrequited. The three of them were stuck in a fruitless triangle. Chasing after something they could not have…
"Such a merry occasion…" A voice hissed from the doorway.
Chatter died upon the tongues of those present.
The Dark Lord had arrived.
xxXxx
Wine was poured into the goblets of the occupants of the room as they finished the quiet meal. None dared to talk in front the majestic and cruel presence.
This was the time when conversations resumed. However this time, Lord Voldemort initiated it. It would not be idle talks that left his mouth. Nor would it be a blessing or a symphony of praises. It would even have been good if it were just curses and obscenities. Draco would have rather the talk be anything else but the war.
He did not want to think about it. He did not need to think about it. It reminded him of a woman. It was painful to ponder about her.
Yet it was the war, Lord Voldemort spoke of.
"It is time that we make a visit to Azkaban." The Dark Lord started, looking carefully at their reactions.
"An exercise session with the ickle people there, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked gleefully, the mad light in her eyes brighter than before.
"Yes," Lord Voldemort hissed. "I've decided upon the way to test our newest recruits. We shall judge them on their ability to have some fun with those scum living there."
"A torture session, sire?" Pansy questioned from her place. Her face was expressionless, composed as always before her Lord.
"Are we allowed to participate?" Millicent asked enthusiastically.
"Of course." Lord Voldemort replied, pleased with the female occupants of the room. He then turned to the males. "Well, what says you, Zabini?"
"I believe that it is a fantastic idea, sire. It will be a very efficient way to judge our recruits without any loses. And if some are unable to sustain a high level of performance, I am sure that we can teach them a lesson or two."
The Dark Lord nodded, accessing Blaise's answer. Draco looked at the composed and older strategist. He could feel the fear radiating from Avery. His time was near. Blaise was approaching his strategic prowess. Avery's fear of removal from Lord Voldemort's court was very contemporary.
Draco felt the gaze of the Dark Lord shifted onto him. He returned his attention to the master of the chamber. Immediately. Without a second of hesitation. It was fear that drove him. Terror that dictated his movement. Memories of agony that gave him speed.
Lord Voldemort's watchful red eyes were heavy. Had it been another man, he would have met his gaze and kept it. But not the Dark Lord's. His formidably powerful eyes pushed his head down as soon as he showed his attention to the Dark Lord.
"Young Malfoy, you've been quiet tonight. Why?" he asked in a dangerously soft hiss.
"My Lord," he began, "I was wondering about the exact dates for our tour. May I suggest New Year's Eve? It shall be b a wonderful time to rid the world of dirt and to begin your reign."
"Yes…" The Dark Lord pondered aloud. "It shall be New Year's Eve then. Avery, I would like a word with you. The others are dismissed."
The occupants of the room paid their respects to their master one last time before quickly emptying the room for Lord Voldemort and Avery. No words were exchanged. None would ever be. Though on the same side, it was obvious that each were enemies, fighting for attentions from the Dark Lord. There was no blood in this war yet…but the competition was vicious. Especially between Millicent Bulstrodes and Bellatrix Lestranges.
The hallway was eerily quiet. The senior Death Eaters made their way to the entrance hall where they would make their way home. Draco and the younger ones went to their rooms within the Dark Lord's lair.
The route back to their chambers was wordless. All were absorb in their own thoughts. Only the clicking of the Millicent and Pansy's shoes on the marble floor could be heard. He parted with them as he took a turn at the end of the dim and cold hallway.
Now, the hallway was truly silent. A true peace. The only tranquility was in this place and this war. His comfort. It reminded him so much of that room in Hogwarts.
He arrived at his room quickly and opened the wooden door softly. As if afraid to break this seemingly magical spell of solace. He entered his room and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He smelt heavily like the food from the dinner.
After cleansing himself as thoroughly as he could, he went to bed. It was exhausting being under the surveillance of the Lord for such a long period of time. He was tired.
He closed his eyes and sought rest.
It was for the first time in the last few weeks. His eyes were able to close without any troublesome thoughts galloping across his weary mind. He slept and he dreamt.
He dreamt a sad dream.
A very sad dream.
A/N: So REVIEW! What do you think! Sorry there's so little action here...Next chapter would be a flashback! An account of their seventh year Christmas! Please review, review, review! Please with sprinkles on top of cookie n' cream and chocolate fudge ice cream!