Chapter 4
Harry Potter lay in bed, tossing and turning, struggling against his bedsheets in the darkness. Sweat soaked his raven-black hair and dampened his clammy skin. His head was searing with pain. A white hot burning pain. Before his clamped shut eyes, dark images played, like a nightmare you couldn't see, one that you couldn't wake up from.
"You will guard it with your life, Lucius… Another accident like the diary and I may not be so merciful..." The cold, hard voice chilled him to the bone.
"Yes, Master, of course. When shall I expect it to arrive?"
"Tomorrow. Remember, you will be watched… Closely…" Voldemort's voice was lowered dangerously.
"I will not fail you, my Lord… I will not fail you..."
With that, brilliant green eyes snapped open, wide with the fear of a young boy.
Nagini uncoiled herself and slithered from the Dark Lord's neck as a loud 'POP' signified an Apparation into the dimly lit room. Hermione stood before her father, looking fearlessly up at him. It was eerily cold but that didn't bother her. She'd grown up with it. The huge snake coiled itself in its master's lap.
"You're seveenteen now, Nafiri…"
Hermione eyed him sharply at his mentioning her middle name. It was her late mother's name and she hated anything to do with the dead woman. Hermione, on the other hand, had been her father's choice. After Hermes, the god of cunning and theft.
"Now, my girl… I'm sure you know very well, that it is a custom of our people to be betrothed at the coming of age…" Voldemort paused, stroking the glistening black scales of his snake.
Hermione's jaw dropped.
What?
She had been expecting him to send her on a mission. Not this, never this.
"I… wait… what?" she stumbled uncharacteristically.
Voldemort sighed. Letting the massive reptile slide to the ground, he rose, towering over her.
"To be engaged, Hermione. To a man?" he impatiently tried to make things clear.
"I know what engaged is..." She huffed.
The Dark Lord laughed. A cold sound, banking on unfeeling. It echoed softly in the shadows.
"That is good... Now… I have a suitor in mind…" he trailed off.
"You're going to set me up?!" Hermione fought to keep her voice even.
Why couldn't he have just wanted someone killed? Or… or… Tortured? Or just something!
"I am indeed… But you will of course, get the final say in who you will marry. Although, I think you will like my choice of a suitor. Of course, only the best…" A cold smirk grew.
Hermione nearly rolled her eyes again. It was just like him to force her into such madness. Her father was very particular about heritage. Which meant her suitor was most probably some rich pretty-boy Pureblood from the most 'noble' of families.
"But why on earth would I need to get married of all things?" she exclaimed.
Voldemort's expression grew serious again.
"Our plan is a dangerous one. You know this. When we emerge victorious, I want a guarantee that you will be married and will produce an heir. This custom is the perfect cover to garner you a husband before..." He trailed off, eyeing her meaningfully.
The mastermind plan…
The very thought gave her chills. Such a fool-proof plan. And it could not fail. The Dark side depended on it.
He was right. As much as she hated to admit. He was right.
"So, my daughter... You will go do it?"
Aw, heck!
"Fine… But only because of the mission..." she sighed defeated, but still holding his gaze. There was no point refusing him anyhow. Not unless she was looking for punishment.
"Besides, it's not like I have to like the guy… Right?" she added wearily.
The smirk came back, lighting his snake-like eyes in a sinister way.
"Oh, I think you will. As you can imagine, I would not have you marry anyone less thans the purest of Pure. The richest of the rich –"
"Cut to the chase…" she interrupted him, her patience running dangerously short.
His expression darkened menacingly.
"What have I told you about interrupting me, daughter?"
There was silence for a moment.
"I concluded that Mr. Malfoy would be sufficient to our needs." He said finished, leaning back into his chair.
"LUCIUS MALFOY?!" she practically yelled. Her voice echoed through the dim room.
A hand went to his pale temple and his eyes closed for a moment.
"Merlin! Don't be ridiculous, girl! That idiot is already married! He'd probably be dead by the time you're 30!" He barked at her in exasperation once his eyes blinked open.
"No. Young Draco Malfoy it shall be." He said finally, his voice calm once again.
Fuck…
Shelves full of books lined the walls of the office in which two men sat. The older sat behind a desk, speaking to the younger.
"Now, Draco, you know of the Dark Lord's plan, yes?" Lucius looked at his son seriously, his hands clasped before him.
Draco reached for the crystal ball that sat on the table.
"Yes, yes... A brilliant plan to dispose of Wonderboy and take over the world..."He recited in a tone of boredom, fiddling with the crystal.
"Well, my son, the Dark Lord has expressed his wish for you to be part of this delightful plan!" Lucius' eyes danced with delight as he watched his son.
Draco merely raised a graceful brow, the crystal was held still.
"Oh? And am I to offer my services to His Majesty?" he drawled sarcastically.
"By getting married, my boy..." Lucius explained, ignoring his son's sarcasm. There was no time to reproach him.
Draco smirked, continuing to twirl the crystal ball in his hand. In his mind, he imagined a gorgeous, leggy blonde hanging off his arm. Nothing too bad about that...
"A brilliant plan indeed…" he commented agreeably.
Lucius eyed his son with the famous Malfoy smirk.
"Glad you see it my way, Draco. Now, she will be staying with us for a while. And she may need some... persuasion. If you catch my drift?"
Draco smirked all the wider.
"Way ahead of you, father..." he drawled.
The older man leant back in his chair.
"Only remember, Draco... This girl... could prove to be… difficult. Please, son, be careful... A wrong move on your part could cost you your life..." he warned his son.
Draco turned to him.
"Who are we dealing with? A wild animal or some girl? Trust me, Father, I can handle anything a girl can throw at me... Who is she anyway? "He scoffed.
"None other than Ms. Riddle... Daughter of the Dark Lord..." Lucius smirked triumphantly, as if he had won some sort of grand prize for his only son.
The crystal ball in Draco's hand smashed on the floor with a ringing CRASH!
Fuck...