AN: Wrote this for round 5 Quidditch League! My prompts were to write about Draco In his sixth year, (Word) Plethora, and "Who says we have to grow up" - Walt Disney
Thank you to HollowPrincess for beta'Ing my story! Thank you! Please leave a review If you liked It.
I don't look back. My feet are moving fast. I have not had to run like this before, from threat. I have not ever had to run at all before. All I see is the ground shaking, and the bumping of my feet on the hills that lead down towards Hagrid's Hut. I think for a second I might topple over, but Aunt Bella grabs an elbow, and vaults me even farther ahead. I can't be the one caught.
It isn't like the person I was trying to kill can convict me now.
Guilt seeps slowly into my mind like sweet molasses syrup. It didn't help when that oaf, Hagrid, made his appearance. I never liked him much, but seeing him carrying his cowardly dog out of the door. That had to be a top five in pathetic things to witness.
If we can make it past the hut and into the forest we might just lose anyone willing to tail us. By now, I expect Mcgonagall to have stepped up and taken leadership of the school, though she might have alerted the Order. They are the strongest force that we have to watch out for right now, well besides the Dark Lord himself. I am not looking forward to that meeting.
I don't know why I'm running exactly. Dad will not be happy. He'll ask why I couldn't just murder the old man, and I'll hang my head in shame. It's what we do, I guess.
My silent stream of consciousness is broken when Yaxley slows down, and begins to walk calmly.
The moss squishes under our boots, and we have just a moment to smell the air. Fresh air is important, because we could all become prisoners any minute.
"Here. We can apparate."
"Where to," Gibbon asks.
"Do you think it's safe, Malfoy?"
I glance up at the use of my surname.
"Father and Mother will be there, I am sure the Dark Lord is waiting with them for my return."
He most definitely will want to hear of how much of a wimp I am, and how I'm just like my father, I snark to myself.
"Hang on to my arm Draco,"
The beetle black eyes bore into me, and the monotonous voice all too familiar, I lock an arm with Severus Snape.
Along the dining room table sits eight Death Eaters, four at each side, with Voldemort at the head. Our backs are straight, trying very hard not to look each other in the eyes. Everyone around knows the backlash that is expected after a failed plan.
Terror, by definition is something that scares you in the moment and possibly makes you scream in shock, but does not have any lasting effects. Horror on the other hand, is a stealthy kind of creeping feeling that something is just not right. It fools the brain psychologically. Horror sticks with you for a while. The way that Voldemort is taking his time to look at each and every one of us, and grace us with a wide grin, is absolute horror.
"I am so glad to see you all here, because in the least, you have made it through killing my most arduous enemy."
He unfolds his long spindly fingers. Gets up from his chair and then stalks around the room. He takes one rotation around the table just trailing his fingers on everyone's chairs. When he reaches mine the second go around, I hear him stop.
"Draco," He whispers. His voice just like a soft slithering sound.
I turn to his face and reply,"Yes?"
"Dear Draco, I ask you to do one simple task. One that will redeem your family."
'Simple task', who was it just a moment ago saying 'arduous enemy'? I don't say that out loud though. Everyone can hear and I know he's toying with me.
"I am sorry that I failed. Dumbledore must have caught onto my plan."
Voldemort's voice is smooth, and his demeanor is smoother. He never misses a step. He strokes my cheek with a finger, and pulls my face to look at him even more.
"Did you not think that you would lose innocent lives in your attempts? Dumbledore is a smart man, and a plethora of 'accidents' is something very grave. He would not have noticed straight off, and you should have realized your plan was flawed."
"I did not think about that, sir." He's digging up all my mistakes. Trying to embarrass me and my father. He wants to disgrace us even further.
My mother sits next to my father, but does not hold his hand. She sniffs in a righteous manner, fixing her posture and continues to hold her head high. She's trying to be strong. Of my parents, she always has had the coldest appearance.
I am afraid to hear anything else, stuck wondering if I'll be murdered any minute. I take a fast glance at my father, and he stares like a dead man walking.
I'm ready for my sentence. This weird overwhelming sensation comes over me to run, and sit in the bathroom. I want to cry my eyes dry until they pop out. A kiss lingers on my lips. I can't stand being the target for shame, especially for someone elses sins.
"Do you know why we are here today?"
I brace myself.
"We are all here today, to celebrate the death of Albus Dumbledore. Once a man of many names, and skills ... Dead. A powerful enemy I must admit, he stood in my way. Worse than any other being in this world in terms of strength. I have defeated him."
The smiles creep onto others faces, pale around the table. A whoop from Aunt Bella, and most of the guys around the table bang a hand down onto the obsidian glossed table.
Voldemort holds a hand up, and waits for the deafening silence to return.
"I have to give my respect to Severus Snape. His wand, in hand is the one who killed Dumbledore. He has stood by me, in all the days his loyalty hasn't wavered."
He sweeps an arm out to me.
"Draco, you are competent. I did not think you could have had the ability to corner Dumbledore. You had him at wand point. Well done, in letting your family." He pauses to gesture at everyone seated around the dining table, "into the school."
He falls quiet just looking at Snape and Draco. It's uncomfortable, but he continues to stare and I hope to God that my death isn't being planned. I think he's saying all these nice things just so we can feel secure, but then strike fast and merciless. He truly is a snakelike creature.
"My Lord, does this mean that our family has found favor?"
Voldemort's head snaps quickly to my father and almost hisses, "This means, that Draco has found favor with me, proving himself useful. You are, on the other hand still vermin. A measly rat, who couldn't control an eighteen year old boy and his friends."
He stalks back to his seat at the head of the table.
"A few more words for Alecto and Amycus ... I ask of you, to see me three days from now in the drawing room downstairs. It's about the Ministry's take down of Hogwarts School."
A few mouths hang open, but one gasp from Narcissa escapes then her eyes dart to her son.
The two siblings could not look anymore gleeful to have a shining moment. Having just a little bit of attention from Voldemort makes them smile from ear to ear. Sickening.
"You want us -"
" - To control Hogwarts?"
"Oh, grow up! The both of you couldn't run Hogwarts!" Bella speaks up appalled at the Dark Lord's choice, and declares, "I am most faithful, let me do it please."
At the same time they reply in a creepy manner. "Who says we have to grow up?"
Voldemort lets a wicked laugh out at the exchange, apparently relishing in his terrible plans to take over the Ministry. What trouble he's caused, and he's proud of it.
"No. That job will lie with my most loyal servant," Voldemort snaps.
His mood takes a sudden sharp turn. "Lucius, why don't you treat your guests with kindness? Let us eat and celebrate for our future plans."
With a snap four house elves apparate into the room with platters. They break bread and call a toast for their master.
Maybe one day when the war is over, whether Voldemort wins or not, we won't have to live in fear.