DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. I'm borrowing them from the esteemed Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.
SPOILERS/BACKGROUND: Everything from BtVS Season 1 to Season 6, AtS Seasons 1 to 3, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Reviews always welcome!
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CHAPTER 28:
THE VAULTS OF MALFOY MANOR
Buffy's head swam as the force of Voldemort's Imperius Curse struck her, and she knew she was in trouble already. Lord Voldemort's spells had ten times the power of Peter's.
"Kneel," Voldemort commanded, and Buffy suddenly remembered what exactly the spell that Willow had mentioned from her dream had done. She felt herself sinking to her knees, as though she had no more control over her own actions than a spectator.
A moment later, however, she realized that her thoughts were still her own. She was the Slayer. She was not going to give up that easily.
"No …" she breathed, already upon one knee.
"Kneel!" Voldemort hissed again, more forcefully, and she felt the force of his spell renewed upon her mind, like a thousand serpent fangs tearing into the fabric of her consciousness. But she would not let them penetrate.
"No!" she screamed again, throwing Voldemort's influence from her mind with a staggering effort of will. Her breath came in gasps as though she had just run a marathon, however, and Voldemort seemed to have suffered nothing from having his curse resisted.
"Expelliarmus!" Narcissa shouted.
"Protego!" Buffy answered reflexively. Her aim with her deflection was true; she sent Narcissa's spell straight at her master.
"Protego!" Voldemort shouted as well, an arrogant smile splitting his lips. Buffy's eyes barely had time to widen before the Disarming Charm was coming back at her with even more force behind it.
"Protego!" Buffy shouted again, barely in the nick of time, sending the spell back at Narcissa. She was clearly not prepared for the spell to bounce around that many times. The haughty woman's wand flew from her hand, and she tumbled backward. Buffy was surprised for a split-second that Voldemort had not attempted to block it, but then she realized he was already chanting another spell.
"Stupefy!" he hissed.
Buffy had no time to cast her own spell, but she was the Slayer. She twisted aside with the speed of a pouncing cheetah.
Too late, she realized that the spell had not been aimed at her. A moment later, she saw Draco's Stunned form lying on the chamber floor.
"I'm impressed, Slayer," Voldemort congratulated her. "No one has withstood my Imperius in a long, long time."
"Yeah, I don't go for the submissive role so much."
"Typical American."
"And proud of it," Buffy spat. "Iluvio ignis!" A shower of liquid flame sprayed forth from the tip of her wand.
"Terrandicto!" Voldemort barked. A wall of earth burst from the ground in front of him, shielding him from the torrent of flames, and Buffy could not maintain it for long. She was already mentally tired, but she couldn't afford to let him know how much fighting the Imperius had taken out of her. If he hit her with it again …
A soft, sharp popping sound in the air behind her warned her, and she dove out of the way as a jet of red light streaked by from behind where she had been standing a split-second earlier. Voldemort had used the cover of the wall of earth to Apparate behind her. Even though his sneak attack had missed, her escape route was cut off.
"Luminaris solaire!" she cried. A burst of brilliant sunlight drowned the light from the flames ringing the chamber.
Voldemort simply swirled his cape, the dark fabric absorbing the light like a black hole as it approached him. He did not even flinch.
"You're not into this, Slayer," Voldemort taunted. He raised his wand and sent power radiating out from him in a wave. "Ennervate."
Buffy suddenly felt energy returning to her limbs, and her thoughts cleared slightly. Her eyes narrowed. Voldemort had used the Revitalizing Charm on her?
"Expelliarmus!" a voice called.
Buffy was too surprised to react, and a moment later, her wand was blasted from her hand. Dead silence fell instantly across the room, save for the deadening sound of her wand skipping across the stone.
"Draco?" she breathed. Voldemort had radiated the spell, reviving the Slytherin prefect under cover of revitalizing her.
"Imperio!" Voldemort cried again. This time he threw his full power behind it, and Buffy was already mentally weary and too stunned to speak. She felt the sensation of fangs on the surface of her mind for a brief moment, but they were gone a moment later, and an inexplicable calm settled over her.
Demonic satisfaction glittered in Voldemort's eyes. "Well done, Lucius," he said.
"Thank you, my lord," Draco answered with a formal bow.
"Now, then," Voldemort said, with practiced nonchalance. He turned slowly to face Buffy again. "I believe I said, 'kneel.'"
Buffy sank to her knees, resting on the back of her heels, and folded her hands within her lap.
Narcissa was on her feet again, and had regained her wand. She looked more than a little furious, however. She approached Buffy threateningly.
"Stay," Voldemort commanded, and Narcissa froze. "If I desired her hurt, she would not be breathing."
"I'm sorry, my lord," Narcissa said tightly after a moment. "Forgive me."
"Of course, Bella," Voldemort replied patiently, even fondly. "You have done well."
"Thank you, Great One."
Buffy's mind lurched. Bella? The name Voldemort had given Draco a minute earlier also began to creep back into her consciousness. Lucius?
"She begins to resist again already," Voldemort observed. His tone was impressed, but cold, like a scientist marveling over a fascinating experiment. "Magnificent."
"I believe I noted earlier, I can see why my son is so taken with her," Draco noted as he approached her. Voldemort made no move to stop him as he had Narcissa. Draco genuflected down in front of her and put a hand on her cheek. "Such power and beauty do not come through Hogwarts every generation." Deep within herself, Buffy flinched.
Draco's hand and face began to change a moment later. His hair lengthened, and his features matured. Buffy would have gasped, had she been able to. It was the man she had seen in her dream so many nights ago, the man that could have been Draco save older. He chuckled softly. "I was always good at acting, Miss Summers, as are most masters of the Great Game, but playing my own son was among the most splendid experiences of my career. Oh, and I love your letters," Lucius Malfoy mocked as a parting shot as he stood and backed away.
"Lucius, what happened?" a woman's voice asked from nearby, similar to Narcissa's but not quite. Buffy was curious as to whose voice it was, but she had been commanded to kneel.
"My apologies, Bellatrix," Lucius said earnestly. "The flames of this room are enchanted to degrade magical potions and artifacts. Polyjuice Potion wears off quickly here. It stops anyone attempting to use potions or items to break into the vaults."
"Yes," Voldemort interrupted, with a sinister smirk, "speaking of apologies to Bellatrix, you are not the only one here who owes her one. Miss Summers, I would like you to apologize to Miss Lestrange."
Buffy turned. The woman who now stood before her was clearly not Narcissa Malfoy, though they looked so alike that they might have been cousins. "I'm sorry, Miss Lestrange," her mouth said, while her spirit retched within her.
"And do not meet her eyes," Voldemort instructed patiently. "It is not your place." Buffy lowered her eyes and stared at her hands folded in her lap.
"Her resistance will grow, my lord," Lucius observed.
"Oh, no, Lucius," Voldemort countered, a note of sinister pleasure in his voice. "Peter was careless. Crouch escaped because Peter did not know how to break his will to resist. But resistance can be weakened."
"Of course, my lord."
Voldemort grinned. "Bella, would you please go invite our other guests in? They should have arrived at the lodge by now. Lucius, please accompany me and our new guest to her new quarters."
"Yes, my lord," Bellatrix and Lucius answered simultaneously.
"Rise," Voldemort commanded. Buffy rose to her feet again.
"Come," the Dark Lord said a moment later. Buffy followed obediently as Voldemort turned and led them back through the vault door. A distant part of Buffy was surprised to see that it actually was a treasury; she had assumed that it had been just an empty room or dungeon they had taken her to. Piles of gold, silver, and jewels lay strewn about the floor, sometimes organized in chests. Shelves along the walls held magical artifacts of all sizes and descriptions.
Voldemort led Buffy into a small, ornate stone room at the rear of the vaults. A stone bench ran around the wall of the entire room save for the door. Aside from that, it was nearly empty, save for a few items that had been set out on the bench next to the door.
"Don this," Voldemort hissed emotionlessly, holding up the largest of the items on the pile. It was a high-collared straitjacket of some smooth, glossy greenish-black material, though the sleeves were unfastened at the moment. "Slowly," he added.
Buffy slowly reached her arms up and began to pull the constricting garment over her head. "Lucius, help her," Voldemort commanded a moment later. Buffy gasped involuntarily as the garment settled around her. As in her dress, there was boning built into the torso of the jacket, but this was far tighter and covered more of her torso; it was designed to be restrictive. Lucius laced the jacket up as tight as it could go, and Buffy felt the air being forced even further from her lungs. A moment later, he had fastened the sleeves behind Buffy's back with a strap connecting them to the collar. The part of Buffy's mind that was still conscious recoiled at his touch; Voldemort was dry, passionless, almost sterile, but Buffy could feel Lucius' thoughts through his hands. Had her will been all her own, she might have retched.
"That will suffice, Lucius," Voldemort said sternly.
"Of course, my lord," Lucius answered. Buffy noted a hint of regret in his voice.
Voldemort seemed to notice it, too, and it did not appear to please him. "Now, Lucius, if you would, kindly go and fetch my carpet bag from the master bedroom. And close the door behind you."
"Y … yes, my lord," Lucius said, departing quickly from the room.
"Alone at last," Voldemort smirked, letting his spell dissipate. Buffy's mind was freed.
She immediately leapt and aimed a flying kick at Voldemort's head.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Voldemort snapped contemptuously. Buffy froze, hovering in midair.
"Amazing what one can do with such simple spells, is it not, Miss Summers?" he asked softly, walking slowly around her. She did her best to turn to keep him in sight, but her range of movement was extremely limited by her bound arms and the fact that she was floating in midair.
"Why did you let me out?" Buffy asked as he circled back in front of her.
Voldemort laughed. "I have always been rather fond of American. I refuse to call it 'English,' of course. Do you really feel I've 'let you out?'" As if to emphasize the point, he flicked his wand contemptuously, and Buffy was suddenly spun upside down. She struggled instinctively, but the jacket held fast, and her kicking legs caused her dress to fall down around her waist. She bit back a piercing scream from the tip of her tongue, determined not to give him that satisfaction, fixing him instead with a truly defiant stare.
"Calm yourself," Voldemort hissed, noting her look, turning her right-side-up again. "My … human appetites … cooled long before you were even born." He began to walk around her again.
"Do you like my handiwork?" he asked, positioning himself behind her so that she couldn't see him no matter how hard she tried to crane her head. He ran a thin, bony hand up one of her arms. "I've heard it takes quite a lot to restrain a Slayer, though I've never had the pleasure of trying before now. I managed to work basilisk hide into the material, from the shed skin of a creature that used to live in the dungeons of Hogwarts. Magic-resistant and nearly impenetrable." He chuckled wickedly.
Buffy realized that he was not going to let her look at him, and she was just emphasizing her helplessness by trying pointlessly. She schooled her features to complete neutrality, and forced herself to look straight forward. She kept her voice perfectly level. "When I get out of here," she said. "You're going to need a hole a lot deeper than this to hide from me."
"Good," he breathed, as though marveling at a favored pet. "The discipline of a Slytherin, and the spirit of a Gryffindor. I can understand the Hat's difficulty in deciding where you belonged." He came around to face her again. "Such eyes," he added, noting the emerald fire behind them. "I can see that you've earned your reputation."
"Thanks," Buffy seethed.
"Unfortunately for you," Voldemort continued sanguinely, continuing his slow, vulture-like walk around her, "I have also earned mine." This time, as he was behind Buffy, he pulled a heavy blindfold down across her eyes. Not so much as a glimmer of light reached her. A moment later, he pulled a gag between her teeth as well, not a piece of cloth, but something that felt like it was made of a similar material to the straitjacket, designed for the purpose. She struggled against him momentarily, but it did her no good for long.
"I know several spells that accomplish much the same ends," Voldemort noted clinically. "But there is something about the physical feel of restraint that works a magic all its own. Don't you agree?"
"Gmmph hmm hmmll."
"Such defiance," Voldemort laughed. "It should be interesting to see how long it lasts."
Suddenly, Buffy became aware of a cold sensation beginning to creep across her flesh. At first, she thought that Voldemort had used magic on her again. A moment later, however, she heard the vault door open, and the rustle of coarse robes and the cracking of dry, cadaverous flesh.
The moment the door opened, memories suddenly leapt back into her mind. She suddenly felt as though she were walking herself through a dream. Giles' phone call informing of her of Jenny's death suddenly started playing through her mind. Then she was back at her house, cradling her mother's body in her arms. She could feel the dementors standing nearby, but they were as immobile as statues now, and were ever silent, letting their mere presence work its horrible work.
"The blindfold magnifies their effects magnificently, doesn't it?" Voldemort asked. She could hear the smirk in his voice, but he was right. Denied her voice and her eyes, suspended in midair, there was no sensation to latch onto to shield herself from the force of the memories the dementors were calling up from within her—nothing but the dark lord's own voice, which gained a kind of hypnotic quality when it was the only input from the real world she could get.
"Don't worry," Voldemort practically crooned. "Lucius will be back soon with the boggart in my bag. Their powers blend with those of my dementors like a symphony of darkness. This should be quite interesting indeed. It's quite a walk to that end of the manor and back, though, so I brought some reading material. I do hope you enjoy it."
He began to read aloud, then, and Buffy bit back a furious, hopeless curse.
"Hey Drake,
Thanks for writing. Good to know you're still out there, even if you're gonna have to stay down there a while longer. I'd love to come down and visit sometime … I haven't gotten to see a whole lot of Britland, Muggle or not.
I never got a chance to say sorry for that day on the tower. I know I still meant what I said, but I really didn't mean for it to come out like that, and it's been bugging me that you left without giving me a really good chance to say sorry. I really don't want something like that getting in the way of being friends.
And now I'm just babbling on paper.
Willow says hi.
Hope everything's working out OK at home—if only so you get to come back soon. I really miss you. It was good to have a friend like you at Hogwarts. I really wish we'd had a chance to spend more time together. I was really getting fond of you before you took off, and there really isn't anyone else like you in all of Slytherin—all of Hogwarts, even. Hope to see you again soon, wherever.
Best,
B."
It was her last letter to Draco.
Buffy was hissing through the gag as Voldemort finished reading, but the material was both soft and firm and seemed to absorb sound like a sponge. Also, the fact that she had to devote half her attention to choking back tears didn't help her defiance.
Voldemort chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you did get the chance to come down and visit," he said. "And I believe everything is working out quite well at Malfoy Manor, if I do say so. And I assure you we will get to spend a lot of time together."
Bastard, Buffy tried to say, but all that came out was "Bhhhhrrrd."
"Now, now, do mind your manners," Voldemort chided. "You shouldn't be ashamed of your own words. And I think you made a fine choice in young Draco, if I may say so." He lowered his voice suggestively. "Unfortunately for you, I reached him first."
No! Buffy screamed into the silence of her mind, though she had known in the back of her mind that something must have happened to him.
What did you do?! "Uhhh ih oo oo?" At the moment, she was almost glad of the gag, as she wouldn't have trusted her voice had it been available to her. The effects of the dementors in the room, combined with the lack of anything visual to latch onto, magnified all the horrible possibilities that were suddenly springing into her mind.
Voldemort laughed again. "Now, now, use your imagination. You'll have a lot of time down here to think for a while. An idle mind is a terrible waste, after all."
Bastard, Buffy thought again, but all kinds of horrible things were already running through her head. There was a distant corner of her mind that said that something in Voldemort's voice suggested that Draco was still alive, and her heart told her that that was still the case as well, but it was hard to believe.
"In fact, I think it's only fair to give you something else to think about, since dementors make somewhat lonesome company. I received this one just a few days ago, after dear Mr. Creevey started poking around Hogwarts … Snape uses outstanding encryption charms, but I'm rather good at breaking them, if I may be so conceited:
"Mr. Draco Malfoy:
Greetings.
A reporter for our esteemed newspaper, the Daily Prophet, was recently on campus asking questions that we would prefer remain unanswered. Fortunately, the information in question is not widely known. Miss Summers informs me that you are one of the few who are privy to it.
The … relationship … between Miss Rosenberg and Mr. Potter is not to be revealed, discussed, traded, or even intimated in any manner to anyone who is not a member of the Hogwarts staff. This is a non-negotiable directive, and since you are inevitably calculating what the information is worth now, let me remind you that few advantages in the Game are worth more than the ire of the entire staff, including myself and Dumbledore. Any evidence of inappropriate conduct with regards to this information will be grounds for immediate dismissal.
Most cordially,
Severus Snape
Faculty Head, Slytherin House"
"I had suspected that Miss Rosenberg had somehow been present in Diagon Alley when my dementors attempted to take the map from the Potter boy. Communicating with them is an uncertain affair at times, and Mr. Pettigrew was rather unavailable afterward, but I sensed from them that they were foiled by darker and stronger magics than anything the Potter boy possesses. Strange times we live in. I was surprised enough that that fool Dumbledore somehow let Miss Rosenberg out of his sight. But this … well, I'm sure I don't need to prattle on and on about the whole world of possibilities that this opens, do I?"
Bastard bastard bastard bastardbastardbastardbastardBASTARD!!!
The sound of the door opening distracted Voldemort from his monologue.
"Your bag, my lord?" Lucius' obsequious voice ventured.
"Ah, yes, indeed. Thank you, Lucius. Though, on second thought, I'll return to it in a little while. Perhaps a drink? I believe the dementors will need some more time to work, anyway, before she is really ready to face a boggart. This should be very interesting. Yes, Miss Summers," he added for her benefit, "Slayers are strong, but anything can be broken."
There was a sharp snapping sound, followed by a short, curtailed ripple of power throughout the chamber. Buffy realized that Voldemort had snapped her wand in two to emphasize the point.
"By the way," Voldemort gloated, backing away to the door. "I like your dress."
Behind the blindfold, Buffy began to cry.
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A/N: So all of you who were wondering if Draco had really joined the dark side or was just being fooled/controlled were a little off base …
… and the grand prize goes to Jedi Buttercup for noticing the little bit of foreshadowing in the last chapter about the real identity of "Draco!"
Silver Warrior, Anne, mpe, and others that wondered if the Imperius would work on Buffy or not: remember that we know from canon that powerful mind-control magic can affect the Slayer ("I Only Have Eyes For You," "Where the Wild Things Are," etc.), and the Imperius is about as strong as they come.
And, of course, the big question now … where … is … Draco? Hee hee hee … [ominous drumroll] …
Coming Soon: "Learning to Stand Alone." Willow has no idea what has just happened, so life continues as usual at Hogwarts … but how will Voldie & Co. explain the fact that Buffy won't be returning on schedule? Also, Willow gets a little lesson in the ins and outs of the Slytherin Great Game from a very old hand at it.
Sneak Preview:
"Lonely?" a voice asked.
Willow turned to see the Bloody Baron seated beside her. "They make you sit at the end of the table, too?" she asked.
The Baron chuckled grimly. "I sit where I wish," he said. "As could you, if you wished."