Chapter 14

I bow my head and kneel respectfully.

"Where were you last night?" Voldemort asks.

"I was given a night off patrols," I say. "I spent most of the night in a bar."

"I suppose I cannot fault you. Stand," he says. "Bellatrix, you are dismissed."

As I get to my feet, Aunt Bella leaves the study and shuts the door behind her, leaving me alone with the Dark Lord. It's been about two hours since I arrived at the Manor, and Voldemort is here now, most likely to have the conversation that he'd intended to have with me last night.

"It's been a long time since I spoke to you directly. I doubted that the dagger could be found, but I knew I was right to trust you with it."

I keep my eyes on the ground. "I live to serve you, My Lord."

"How have your skills improved?"

"I went from the Manor to Snape's old home in Spinner's End."

He gives me a rare smile.

"Good. I have a new trick for you, but you must complete two errands for me. First you are to deliver this dagger—" with a wave of his hand, the dagger that I brought back from the old Potter home floats over to me "—to Macnair's home. Then, tomorrow night, you will go to a village in North Yorkshire called Hellifield. You will await the arrival of Seamus Finnegan. I trust you remember him from school?"

I nod. Then I realize that the dagger is still floating about a foot in front of me, and I reach out to take it.

"I want you to bring me his head."

Without a moment's hesitation, I drop to one knee. "Yes, My Lord."

I've learned that a prompt response is absolutely crucial when it comes to gaining his trust. Hesitation earned me doubtful looks and derisive comments from him in the past, but after the first year, I became numb to surprise at his requests. I suppose I'm "prepared" for anything.

"Good. I will return the morning following your meeting with Finnegan. I expect you to be here when I arrive."

"Yes, My Lord," I repeat.

"You are dismissed."

I get to my feet and exit the room silently. Aunt Bella is standing just outside, waiting. When I appear, she looks me up and down, and she seems disappointed. I expect her to say something to me, but she enters the study and shuts the door again.

Strange.

I head down the hall, planning to go to my room.

"Draco!"

I hold back a sigh and turn to face my father.

"What did the Dark Lord say to you?" he asks.

"I have a new mission," I reply, stowing the dagger into my robes.

He looks at me angrily and storms away. I know that he meant to ask me whether or not Voldemort mentioned him to me. According to my mother, Voldemort hasn't given my father any missions for the past few weeks, which means he isn't giving my father a chance to redeem himself.

Well… I suppose it's a shame for him. Sometimes I wish I had fallen out of favor as well. But of course, I would constantly have to worry about staying alive. It's not surprising that he's angry.

When I reach my room, I shut the door and take a moment to sit down and think.

This kill seems to be unavoidable. There's no way that I can bring a fake head to Voldemort and have him believe that it's the real thing. Upon death, living things generally return to their natural form, so Polyjuice Potion and Human Transfiguration are out of the question.

I wonder how Voldemort knows that Finnegan will be in Hellifield tomorrow night. I consider contacting Granger. If she can convince Finnegan not to go, then his life could be spared. But if I don't have his head when Voldemort returns to the Manor in two days, he won't be very forgiving.

He'll just have to go.

Having made up my mind, I decide to go to Macnair's home to drop off the dagger. It's best to get these "errands" done as quickly as possible.

I pull out my wand and Disapparate.

I arrive in front of a large, dingy apartment complex in London. Visible only to those who know of its existence, Macnair's building is squeezed between two Muggle apartment buildings. I enter the building and step into the lift. I've been here several times before, but usually I come to retrieve things rather than to deliver them.

At the top floor, I get out of the lift and rap on Macnair's door. It's thrown open a moment later, and Macnair appears.

"Ah, Malfoy Jr. I was told to expect you," he says, backing into his room and gesturing for me to enter.

"I won't be staying long. I just have something to give you."

"Come in," he insists.

I can't stand this man.

When I was last in his company, he told me how much he enjoyed the rush of the kill. He described to me in great detail one of his favorite kills. He'd captured a Muggle woman and decided to kill her slowly, without using magic. The thought of it still makes me sick.

Reluctantly, I enter his apartment, and he closes the door behind me.

"So, what do you have for me?" Macnair asks.

I take out the dagger and hold it out to him.

"Pretty, that is," he says, taking it with a smile.

He places the dagger on a table and turns around to face me.

"I'll be heading off," I tell him.

"Where do you have to be?" he asks.

"I have some business."

"Now, now, you're making me think that you don't want to be here."

"And you are making me think that you want me to be late for a meeting," I reply.

He looks at me doubtfully. "You just came from a meeting with the Dark Lord, didn't you?"

"He is not the only person I have to meet with," I say.

"Very well, then," Macnair says. "Good luck tomorrow night, Malfoy Jr."

I give him a confident smile and pull open the door.

"Don't know what you're talking about. I don't need luck."

Loud beats, flashing lights. The floor seems to be vibrating with the motions of all the dancers. I don't even know what I'm doing here right now. Clubs seem to be the only places that aren't feeling the negative effects of the war. People come here to escape the constant fear.

At first, I did the same. But lately, it doesn't really work for me. I can't stop thinking about what's going on outside the club—pain, destruction, death. Tonight, I'm contemplating the next murder I'll be committing, the next murder that I won't be able to stop.

"Draco, why do you look unhappy?" Greg asks.

I sigh and down the rest of my bottle of Firewhiskey. Glancing at him, I observe that he's not kidding. Of course he's not kidding. He's not the brightest. But Theo answers him for me.

"Why do you think he's unhappy? Why are we all unhappy?"

"He's in a worse mood than usual," Vince observes, coming to Greg's defense. They're always trying to help each other out.

"I'm fine," I say. I lift a hand to get the bartender's attention and ask, "Any new kills?"

Vince and Greg look at each other, grinning stupidly.

"Looks like they got a few," Theo says. "I've been stuck on patrol duty for a while. But I'm not complaining."

"Where are you patrolling? Not Hogwarts—I didn't see you there."

"No, not Hogwarts. And I'm glad of it. I don't think I'd want to go to Hogwarts to patrol."

I pop the cork off a new bottle of Firewhiskey and nod in the direction of the bartender, thanking him. "I hate walking around the halls and seeing no one. Sure, there used to be Mudbloods crawling all over the school, but it was alive. Dumbledore was a good headmaster."

Theo nods. "Yeah, I've gotta admit it, he was good."

"We killed eight people," Greg says.

"Took them that long to figure it out," I say, shaking my head.

"Let's pick up some girls and go," Theo says. "We can leave these two buffoons to themselves."

I shake my head.

"Oh, come on. There's a blonde girl over there giving you the eyes," he says, jerking his head to the left.

I don't even look. "I'll take this last drink home. I'm outta here."

Before he can stop me, I head for the exit. Someone grabs my arm when I've almost reached freedom, and I glance back to see Astoria Greengrass. I shake her hand off my arm.

"Draco, hello," she says in her high-pitched voice, smiling sweetly.

"Astoria," I say, nodding to acknowledge her.

"I haven't seen you in such a long time," she says. "Where have you been? Why haven't you owled?"

"I have to go. I'm running late," I lie.

She reaches out for my arm again, but I hurry out of her reach and leave the club, Disapparating as soon as I'm outside. I never should have gone to the club tonight—it hasn't helped me the past few times, so I don't know why I half-expected it to help this time.

I collapse onto the couch in my safe haven and stare at the glowing embers in the fireplace. I lift the bottle to my lips to take another long draught. The liquid burns its way down my throat, and I glare at the lumps of coal. With a thought, a fire blazes to life. I wonder what it'd feel like to step inside and burn. I've watched someone burn alive before… looked pretty fucking painful.

I could use some pain.

Sighing, I chuck the bottle and the rest of its contents into the fireplace.

I pull out my serpent charm and seriously contemplate telling Granger that she should come here now. I want to see her round, brown eyes, touch that tiny scar on her cheek, hear her lyrical voice, taste her plump, kissable lips…

I groan and rub my forehead.

Maybe I should have done what Theo had suggested—grabbed some willing witch and brought her back to the Manor for some stress relief.

But I already know that it wouldn't have done any good. Ever since I saw Granger in the Forbidden Forest, all the girls I've fucked have had her face, screamed my name in her voice. If I'd brought back another girl tonight, it would have been the same thing all over again. And I can't keep this up.

I pick up my wand and point it at the empty basin that's still sitting on the coffee table.

"Aguamenti."

The basin refills, and I lean forward, looking at my reflection in the clear water. Concentrating on her, I place the tip of my index finger on the water, watching the tiny ripples move toward the edges of the basin.

She's lying in bed, asleep. Ginny Weasley's lying one bed over, also breathing deeply. Since she's asleep, it means Blaise is probably all right. As he crosses my mind, I absentmindedly run a hand along the scar that he gave me.

It had been a bitter fight. I'd felt that he betrayed me. He'd said that I turned on him. It would be all too easy for me to finish him off now, with all the tricks that I've picked up from the Dark Lord. But that fight had been three years ago, and we were evenly matched.

I still remember the way that blood had sprayed from the wound on his back, can still hear his screams of pain. I remember feeling no remorse and wishing that I could end him right there. But when he turned around to face me, I saw pain and desperation in his eyes, and the words stayed on the tip of my tongue. I couldn't do it.

I remember the ripping sensation as his spell cleaved its way down my chest, remember toppling back onto the ground, firing a pathetic Disarming Charm as I went down.

Theo had appeared and looked between the two of us worriedly. He knew that I was a Death Eater, but still he hesitated, torn between which of us he wanted to save. I remember screaming at him, telling him to kill Blaise, to kill the boy who had betrayed my trust. I remember the terrified look on his face as he shook his head at me and Disapparated with Blaise.

I was dizzy with blood loss at that point, and I didn't have the strength left even to lift my wand. Aunt Bella found me a moment later and immediately took me to the Manor, where they worked feverishly to heal me.

It's been a long time since I last thought back to that fight. I've tried to repress the memory, to avoid ever thinking about it. This war lost me my best friend.

I look back down at the water and watch as Granger shifts in her sleep, tugging the covers tighter around her.

Is she cold?

I find myself wishing that she would let me keep her warm. But I already know she never will. In her eyes, I've always hated her. And she's always hated me.

I lost my chance with her the day that my parents convinced me that Muggleborns had dirty blood and were therefore beneath us Purebloods.

I take one last look at her. I have to force myself not to keep watching her like this. I'm already too attached to her—I can't afford to sink any deeper.

She looks so peaceful in sleep, her lips curled into a small smile.

"Sweet dreams, Granger."

On my command, the water Vanishes.

I've never felt more alone.