A/N: Ok, I'm trying to go along with the storyline of Book 7, but I find it so utterly boring to write a fanfic about. Especially since I don't feel like going in too deeply about the Hallows. Well, I'll just tell you that you're going to be seeing a lot more of Draco from now on.
Plotting With Amaranta
The Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor eyed Nagini, Voldermort's pet snake, warily. Lord Voldermort had often used her to contact his loyal servants without actually having to leave his hiding place. The Death Eaters always found it a bit creepy how they could hear their master's raspy voice form the head of the snake, even if her mouth didn't open. She merely looked at them through slitted eyes.
"Everything went successfully?" Nagini's golden eyes flashed.
"Yes, m'lord," Bellatrix Lestrange breathed. His voice always sent shivers down her spine. "Dumbledore is dead and we have the Blommarian with us."
An evil cackle resounded throughout the room. Yes! His worst enemy was finally dead. Did love save you now, Dumbledore? "I'm quite surprised everything went so well, considering you fools' long list of failures."
Everyone, except for Snape, shrunk in fear, but no retribution came. Their lord was in a good mood. If only they had managed to kill Harry Potter as well, then their lives would be complete! And Master would love me, thought Bellatrix.
"You have all done a good job. Now, if you idiots can handle it, kill the Blommarian, but leave me the Heart Fruit."
"M'lord," Snape stepped in, whom until now, had remained stoic and silent. "Before you make a decision concerning the Blommarian, I have learned that another, and certainly far more powerful, Blommarian has appeared."
"And tell me why this should matter, Snape, after I have devoured the Heart Fruit of the girl already in my possession!"
Snape bowed apologetically, but continued. "Because, not only can use this girl to kill Harry Potter, but you will also have two Heart Fruits in your hands. She has been twisted with hatred and jealousy towards the weaker Blommarian girl, and as long as we have her, she will come. Excuse my forwardness, master, but no one has eaten a Heart Fruit and lived, let alone have eaten two Heart Fruits. The power of this individual would be astounding."
He waited, and when no answer he came, he assumed Voldermort was considering his idea. "As I stated before, we could use their strange powers to kill Harry Potter. I hold in my possession the Mannequin Potion.," he pulled out a round bottle filled with clear liquid. "This, as I am sure you know, will render its victim utterly emotionless and at a loss of freewill. They must obey the specific person or persons specified. With this, m'lord, you could control Amaranta as your own little puppet."
"And tell me, Snape, why would I want to do that?"
"Harry Potter as I have learned at my stay in Hogwarts," he glanced over at the other Death Eaters, "values Amaranta's friendship. I'd even go so far as to say that he loves her. We can use her to lure him out, and even have the girl kill him. It would be an ironic death to die at the hands of the girl he adores."
The Death Eaters gaped at him. And then at Nagini in wait.
"You will need a personal artifact of the master of the victim."
Hook, line, and sinker!
"One of Nagini's scales should suffice for me. Bring her here once the potion has taken effect."
"Yes, m'lord," Snape bowed deeply and walked towards Nagini, who didn't flinch as he extracted one of her smooth green scales. He popped the cork on the bottle and dropped the scale in there, which dissolved on contact. The potion turned into a thick green liquid.
Nagini turned her head to Narcissa Malfoy. "Narcissa, I will not stand another failure from your son. He failed to kill Dumbledore and thus Severus had to perform the deed in his stead. If he can't even kill a wandless, old man, then your son is not ready to be a Death Eater just yet, but that does not mean he is safe from punishment. Though, I'm sure the effects of this potion will be punishment enough for him."
Narcissa bowed her head humbly. "I apologize, m'lord. I will see to it that he does not fail again." She hoped that the relief was not too evident in her voice. She had never wanted her son to be a Death Eater. He was far too young.
"Now, is there anymore information you'd like to tell me?"
"The Order plans to move Potter from his uncle's home," Snape said again, "to their headquarters. They no longer deem the Muggle house safe."
"As they shouldn't!" Bellatrix laughed. "What made them think a mere Muggle could protect him?"
"The Potter boy's house is protected by a spell, that so long should his relatives take care of him, that anyone who wishes him harm is unable to enter the building. Now, Snape, unless you have anymore information, please administer the potion to the girl."
"As you command," Snape bowed, and then exited the room.
He did not know what else they talked about, and he didn't care. His job was done. It'd take a lot of time to explain to Draco, but he was sure that the lovestruck Bellatrix would do anything to keep her idol talking to her as long as possible, especially being shown how useless she was compared to his resourcefulness.
He found Draco sitting outside a door, looking as if his parents had just died.
"Has she calmed down?" Snape asked calmly, but not coldly.
"A bit," Draco sounded lifeless. "She'll dehydrate herself if she cries anymore."
"Here, make her drink this," he handed Draco the bottle of the green potion. "It's like an intense Calming Draught. It'll help relieve the pain."
Draco took the bottle and eyed it curiously. "I'd love to, but I don't think she'll listen to me. She won't even let me in the room."
"I was aware that you knew how to perform the Illusionment Charm."
Draco only frowned deeper at this, and stood up. He waved his wand lazily, and walked into the room, holding the bottle in his other hand. Inside, Amaranta hugged her legs and rocked back and forth on the opulent four poster bed.
"It hurts," she repeatedly murmured, looking nowhere in particular. "It hurts."
Draco hated himself for doing this. He had created an illusion of a memory from their childhood. In Amaranta's mind, she saw a seven-year-old Draco hugging her shoulders. They were playing in the gardens when she had tripped and scrapped her knee. The flesh was exposed and bleeding.
"Here, take this," both real and illusion Draco said, handing her a bottle of potion. "It'll make the pain go away, I promise."
"It hurts…" Amaranta was like a broken record. She grabbed the bottle, sniffing. "My chest hurts…"
Malfoy stiffened. She was supposed to be seeing an illusion of a scrapped knee. Had she broken through his spell? No, Amaranta obediently drank the entire bottle of the sickening green potion, her face scrunched up in distaste. As soon as she had finished the last drop, she dropped the bottle, which landed with a crash! onto the floor. She hugged her head and curled up into a defensive ball on the silk comforters.
"It hurts," she said more loudly. "It hurts! It feels like my blood is on fire! Draco, the pain isn't going away! Oh, it hurts!"
"It'll go away in a minute," Draco hoped. "It's just a slight side-effect. The pain will be gone soon, I promise." He hugged her head to his chest.
Slowly, but surely, Amaranta relaxed until she remained perfectly still. Draco looked at her, glad he no longer heard hiccupped sobs. However, he didn't like what he saw. Amaranta righted herself and stood up, her back perfectly straight. Her face was completely devoid of emotion, uncaring.
"Amaranta, what's wrong?" Draco asked, but he received no answer. Amaranta remained completely motionless.
"Come with me," Snape's voice sounded from the doorway. "I'll take you to your Master."
Instantly, Amaranta walked towards Snape, waiting by his side. Draco looked at his godfather in confusion. "Snape, what's—"
"Listen, Draco, and listen well, for I will only tell you this once: Amaranta is under the effects of the Mannequin Potion. From here on out, she will be complete devoid of emotion and independent thought. She will be the Dark Lord's puppet from now on. Hold on, don't interrupt me just yet. This is all part of my plan to save her. The Dark Lord was going to kill her; this was the only way she could have remained alive. The Dark Lord plans to use her as bait to lure Potter out, and then command her to kill him. I will not allow her to do that. When that time comes, I want you to order her to drink this." He handed the stunned Draco a small vial of rosy pink liquid. "It's the antidote. She will remember everything, I'm afraid, but she will have her own free will. And then she can escape the Dark Lord's wrath. Now this is very crucial, Draco. You mustn't give her the antidote before Harry Potter arrives. If you do, one of the Death Eaters will notice and notify their master, and then she will be dead. Once Harry is here, he will create a big enough distraction, and then she can escape with him. Answer me, do you understand?"
"Y-yessir," Draco muttered, holding the crystal vial in his hands.
"Now, be sure to hide that in the most secure place, possible! If anyone else should find it, we're all dead, not just her. Do it, now! I'll take Amaranta to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he is waiting for me."
Without another word, Snape strode out of the room, and Amaranta followed him. Draco watched them, calculating what this new information. Amaranta was going to be emotionless… The thought made him feel clammy. Wait a second! Amaranta controlled her powers through her emotions! If she was going to be an emotionless puppet, that would mean she wouldn't be able to use her Blommarian powers anymore!
He went back into the room and closed the door as if afraid someone could overhear his thoughts. Was this part of Snape's plan? No, he was almost positive that only he, Harry and his gang knew about this, well, and Dianthe if you count her. As far as he was concerned, Amaranta never told him.
There's a slight dent in his plan, Draco realized in horror. When they demand her to use her power, she won't be able to do it, and then she'll be worthless to them. Well, at least she still has her magic.
Lord Voldermort sat in a grandiose throne. He wasn't one to flaunt his power in such a trivial way, but it always made him feel slightly more powerful to be in a giant, expensive looking chair. He waved his wand lazily and his pet snake appeared before him with a loud crack! If it wasn't for their special bond, he wouldn't be able to apparate his snake from such long distances.
'Well done, Nagini,' he hissed as the emerald snake took her place wrapped around his shoulders lovingly.
'It is a pleasure to be useful to you, Master,' Nagini hissed back.
"I had heard you were a parselmouth," a melodic voice resounded from the shadows in Lord Voldermort's chamber.
His face didn't betray the amount of shock he truly felt; his crimson eye's merely glinted dangerously. "Reveal yourself!" he hissed.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stepped out of the shadows, and he had seen many a beautiful woman. Her blonde hair (not platinum blonde like the Malfoys, but a sumptuous gold) fell gracefully down her head in perfect waves. Her emerald eyes sparkled devilishly, shadowed by long, curling lashes. Her smooth skin glowed in the darkness, and her soft, red lips were like two rose petals. The rest of her body was very…curvy, and her chest had quite a large bulge in front of it, but not obnoxiously large. Her fingers were long like blades of grass that whispered with her movement. To sum it all up, she was the epitome of perfection.
However, if this girl was going to rely on her looks to try and save herself a good Cruciatus Curse for trespassing, she had another thing coming. Voldermort found sexual desires a useless drawback. They clouded one's better judgment. Voldermort raised a thin eyebrow and said, "Do you have a reason to disturb me, or did you only come for the torture?"
Her laughter was like bells and raindrops. It sickened Voldermort. This girl was just so…not dark.
"I'm glad you have a sense of humor," she smiled. "Otherwise it would've been boring coming here."
"So it's the torture, I see," Voldermort grumbled lazily, and lifted his wand.
The girl remained undeterred. "Better not aim for my heart," she watched him knowingly. "It would be such a waste if you destroyed it while killing me. Once the juices are exposed to the air, it loses its ability to grant immortality."
Voldermort didn't move. "Thank you for the advice, I'll be sure to keep it intact."
"But I'm afraid that you can't kill me."
"Oh? Are Blommarians also invisible? I remember a certain girl who died quite easily. I didn't even need to use the Killing Curse on her."
"Oh, but that was because she expected to die."
"And you don't? I'm sure that even Dumbledore expects to die one day. You will die eventually."
"Yes, but not by your hand," Dianthe was grinning broadly, like a young child who knew a great secret. "You see, magic is almost a work of the mind. You have to will it, either with the conscious or subconscious mind, in order for it to affect you or the environment around you. A wand, you could say, is merely a tool, sort of like a funnel, to narrow your magic to pin-point precision. Wand-less magic is not unheard of. After all, many young witches and wizards do it accidentally. So, I think it's a safe deduction, to believe that magic can be controlled by the mind." She paused, watching Voldermort intently, waiting for any signs of comprehension. When he made no movement, she continued. "So then, it is probable, that simply with the will of thought, I can, oh let's say, shield my self from harm."
"Do you think your pitiful shield made from Wand-less magic will protect you from my Killing Curse?" Voldermort's red eyes glinted dangerously.
"Yes," Dianthe smiled angelically at him. "I very much do. I even believe that if I truly believe with all of my mind and body, that you're attacks won't effect me, my intent will be so powerful, that I could affect your magic, and weaken your curse."
Voldermort wanted to laugh, but it only came out in sarcastic hisses. "You must be Confunded, girl, to really think that you could survive an Unforgivable performed by me!"
"Would you like to test this theory?" Dianthe was smiling just as dangerously as the Dark Lord opposing her.
"Very much so," his wand had never drooped the entire conversation, and it certainly didn't droop now. "Avada Kedavra!"
A stream of emerald light dashed towards the steadfast girl, and illuminated her entire body as if she had just been struck by lightning. But never, not once, did the girl so much as flinch. The light slowly died down, with the occasional fading spark dancing across her, even in this state, perfect hair.
Voldermort was so surprised by this that his eyes widened to the extent that Nagini feared they might fall out of his head, but he quickly regained his composure, narrowing them into dangerous slits.
Dianthe didn't suppress her laughter. It was sickeningly perfect to Voldermort's ears. Did such a perfect being actually exist? This girl's very existence, not because he couldn't kill her, but because she seemed to be the epitome of perfect. Voldermort couldn't find a single fault in her. She was powerful, beautiful, not obnoxious, so probably not spoilt, and she seemed to feel only one emotion: extreme, almost malicious, glee. Such a perfect person mocked his feeble strives to reach perfection, to perfect the world. Perfectionists could find solace in their failure by the saying "nobody's perfect," but this girl was a living contradiction to that statement. It made his continuous failures to kill the Potter boy a —
Dianthe smiled as she saw Voldermort make the connection in his head.
He hadn't been able to kill Harry Potter either. Had Harry used Wand-less magic as a baby on the night he murdered the Potters? Babies were simple creatures, after all, so thinking only a single thought with not the slightest doubt wouldn't be an impossible feat for them, but that wouldn't explain his continuous failures, or even the fact that they cannot touch…No, it wasn't Potter that night that had cast the powerful spell that had significantly altered both their lives. It had been Lily Potter, her bodily will to protect Harry, even to sacrifice herself, that had nearly destroyed him that fateful night. In a way, Dumbledore had been right: love (he still found the word sickening) had protected Harry all these years, not because love was more powerful than evil, but because it had been a pure, single will.
The Dark Lord was positively beaming now. So then in that case, a strong feeling of pure evil directed towards Harry would break the spell on him, and the boy would be vulnerable to him once again.
As if reading his thoughts, Dianthe spoke, "So then, using the girl against him would be useless, since she is being render emotionless by Severus Snape's potion. The spell would need to be broken before anyone could kill him, even someone he completely trusted. Pure evil…I don't think even you are pure evil." Dianthe circled around the Dark Lord, her soft fingers tracing his collarbone. "No, Tom Marvolo Riddle, your whole life, you never knew happiness, true happiness. I, on the other hand," she had made about three quarters of her revolution around the throne, so now she had her arm wrapped around him from behind, and she whispered into his ear, "was brought into this world as a happy young lass. I knew happiness, I felt love, admiration, joy, and still, I turned those things away. I chose to go into the darkness, despite all the light influences around me. I rid myself of all things even remotely related to love." She now continued her circling of Lord Voldermort, who merely watched her stoically. "I separated these emotions from myself. I do believe you are familiar with Horcruxes?" At this Voldermort stiffened in his jaw, but other wise made no other change in his appearance. "Emotions make up the soul, Tom. And to answer the question popping up in your bald little head, no, you did not destroy Amaranta's soul, merely suppressed it. A body can still function, even if it were soulless, but there's no fun in that. On the day that I died for the first time in all of my lives, I decided that I would rid myself of all of those useless emotions, since they got me into this mess, and placed them in a very frisky Willow tree." Voldermort cocked an eyebrow at her. She was awfully talkative. "And so thus, I am unable to feel holy emotions such as those. What I feel now is not happiness, but a sinful delight in the pain of others, especially a certain Blommarian." She had come around full circle again, her hand still on his chest. "So, I've decided to strike you a deal, Tom. You let me watch and follow you around at my leisurely, granting me access to anything I see fit, and I shall, not kill, because I now that privilege resides with you, but destroy the spell that protects Potter, oh and I also want Amaranta within six month's time."
"Why wait till then to save your kin?"
Lord Voldermort had never felt nor seen such a blood-curdling smirk. "Now, whoever said I was going to rescue her?"
And on that last note, Dianthe disappeared into the shadows, sure to return again, leaving Voldermort feeling like he had just made a deal with the devil.
Everything always went wrong for Harry. If anything had gone right for him, Voldermort would be dead, Hermoine and Ron would stop trying to hide their relationship that was so obvious in front of him, they wouldn't be in some run-down, all-night diner, a Death Eater wouldn't be watching them from behind a newspaper, he would still have his parents, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Mad-eye Moody, and Sirius would be alive, and Amaranta would be cuddling up to him in his arms. Of course, none of this would ever happen. But a guy could still dream, right?
"I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside," Hermoine whispered to the two if them. "Once there, we could send a message to the Order."
"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" asked Ron.
"I've been practicing and I think so," Hermoine answered.
Out of the corner of his eye, the Death Eater pulled out his wand, and Harry mimicked their movements. Ron tackled Hermoine over onto her bench, a spell missing them narrowly and shattering the tile next to them. Harry shouted, "Stupefy!"
The giant, blonde Death Eater fell flat on his back as a jet of red light collided with his face. His companion, who they hadn't noticed until now, shot a curse at Ron. Hermoine screamed, "Petrificus Totalus!" The Death Eater fell forward like a statue, immobile.
Harry climbed over a broken chair and looked at the darker Death Eater. "I should've recognized him; he was there the night Dumbledore died."
"That's Dolohov," Ron said. "I recognize him from the wanted posters. I think the other one's Thorinn Rowle."
"Never mind what they're called!" Hermoine said, a little hysterical. "How did they find us?"
"Lock the door," Harry told them. "Ron, turn out the lights."
As the door's lock let out a soft click, Ron used his Deluminator, a small firelighter that he got from Dumbledore's will, to extinguish the lights. Harry pointed his wand at each of the Death Eaters heads and quietly said, "Obliviate!"
"A Memory Charm?" Hermoine asked, her voice also a whisper now, although there was no need.
"We can't have them knowing where we were," Harry told her. "This will get them off our trail. And we can't kill them that would just make it obvious we were here."
"So where to now?" Ron asked.
"Grimmauld Place," Harry said definitely.
"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!"
"Ron's dad said they've put up some new jinxes against Snape, and I'd like nothing more than to meet Snape!"
"But —"
"Hermoine, where else can we go?"
Grimmauld Place was the same as they remembered it, except empty, well, with the exception of Kreacher. The grey rooms were as unwelcoming as ever, and Mrs. Black screamed at the sound of their entry. A fresh coat of dust blanketed the already dusty furniture and the dismal wallpaper was steadily peeling off. Harry grimaced a bit as his scar gave a sudden tingle.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermoine asked him, looking concerned.
"Nothing, Voldermort's just angry again," Harry sighed, but clenched his teeth when a rush of pain pounded his forehead. "Really angry."
"Harry," her tone reminded him of Mrs. Weasley when she was talking with Fred and George. "You shouldn't be so nonchalant about this! Dumbledore wanted you to take Occlumency to suppress this connection."
"I know, I know," Harry quickly said before she could continue and was proud that he showed no more hints at the next wave of pain.
"Guys, it's getting late," Ron yawned. "So can you two call it quits and we can get some sleep?"
"I'll go brush my teeth then," Harry said before nearly bolting up the stairs. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, he keeled over onto the floor, clutching his head from all the pain. He didn't resist when pictures flashed through his mind.
"GAAAAUUGGGHH!" Dolohov was writhing violently on a hard, stone floor.
Voldermort sat in a throne (there was no other way to describe it) hissing viciously, but his wand was not out. A log fell in the fire in the fireplace, illuminating Dolohov's torturer. Amaranta, blank faced, almost lifeless, stood erect, her wand pointed at the crying Death Eater.
"Do you want more, Dolohov, or shall we end this and feed you to Nagini?" Voldermort breathed. "You called me out to tell me that Harry Potter has escaped, again?"
A light voice behind Voldermort laughed sweetly, and a thin, smooth arm snaked around his shoulders in a backward embrace. "Your henchmen are really quite intelligent, Tommy," Dianthe's green eyes shined in the eerie firelight. "I can see why your plans have failed until now. No matter how powerful and cunning you are, if your tools don't work, nothing can get done. It's a good thing I came here when I did. You need some competent help, love."
Voldermort frowned deeply at the gorgeous girl that whispered in his ear. "Never call me Tommy again, or I'll kill Amaranta here and now."
"Even without a nose, you can still be cute when your angry," Dianthe giggled, but withdrew.
"Draco," Harry had not noticed the young Malfoy heir until now. "Why don't you join Amaranta in toying with my Death Eater? She's enjoying it so much, I'd hate for you to miss out on all the fun."
Draco's face reflected fear and disgust, but his eyes flashed dangerously. He reluctantly waved his wand at Dolohov and he burst into flames. "Amaranta, finish him," Voldermort hissed.
Without a flinch, Amaranta shot a jet of green light at Dolohov, and he remained motionless.
"Harry, did you forget your toothbrush?" Hermoine's voice came from the other side of the door.
"No, I have it," Harry was surprised at how level his voice was considering how fast his heart was racing.