Author's Note: I've been away for far too long. Finishing up a bachelor's degree in game and graphic deign is no picnic. But, I've managed to get some more done on this story plus lay the ground work for a final story to this trilogy. So, without further delay, here's chapter 27. Read, Review, & Enjoy!
Draco strolled the hallways of Durmstrang, followed by Bellatrix.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Bellatrix asked.
"It's cold," Draco said dryly, "I hate cold."
"You can start a fire later," Bellatrix said, "For now, the Dark Lord wishes to speak to you."
Bellatrix lead Draco into a stone room lit by fires. Bartemus Crouch, Junior was standing by the window, glaring at Draco. Peter Pettigrew stood by a large wooden chair in the middle of the room. Sitting in the chair was Voldemort.
"Draco," Voldemort hissed, "So good of you to call."
Draco heard the door close behind him and turned to see Severus Snape standing between Draco and the door.
"Hello, professor," Draco said.
"Malfoy," Snape responded, "Please have a seat."
Draco sat down in a chair across from Voldemort. He found the soulless eyes of Voldemort to be unsettling.
"Your father tells me you delivered something that may be of some use to me," Voldemort hissed.
Draco reached into his robe and handed the Marauder's Map to Voldemort. "It's a map of Hogwarts," Draco began, "Shows anyone within the grounds at any given moment. It also shows every entrance to the school itself."
"Go on," Voldemort said.
"A guaranteed way to defeat Potter's army is to force him into a two-front battle," Draco continued, "Attack the school from outside while staging a secret coup from within the school by means of any or all of the hidden passages."
"You surprise me, Draco," Voldemort said, "And here I thought you'd sympathized with Potter's cause."
"Please," Draco scoffed, "I played my part so well, I convinced Potter that I was his best friend."
"You played it a little too well, if you ask me," Crouch sneered, "How do we know you aren't here as a spy for Potter?"
"A good point, Crouch," Voldemort mused, "Shall we find out, Severus?"
"I have the veritaserum prepared, my lord," Snape replied, "We can administer it at any time."
"Do it now," Voldemort ordered.
Snape reached into his robe and withdrew a vial of liquid. He popped the top open and handed it to Draco. Draco looked at the vial, then at Voldemort.
"Go on, Draco," Voldemort said, "Unless you feel you have something to hide."
Draco gripped the vial tightly, tilted his head back and drank the vial's contents. He handed the vial back to Snape and sat in his chair, shifting periodically as he struggled to maintain his mental faculties.
"I feel odd," Draco said.
"An effect of the veritaserum," Snape said, "You may question him at your leisure, my lord."
Voldemort grinned and stared deep into Draco's eyes. "Did Potter send you to spy on us?" he asked.
"No," Draco replied.
"Do you share Potter's cause?" Voldemort asked.
"No," Draco answered. "Does Potter or anyone else know that you are here?"
"Yes," Draco replied.
"Will they come looking for you?" Voldemort asked.
"No," Draco replied.
Voldemort leaned forward, a deathly grimace appearing on his face. "Why have you come here?" he asked.
"To serve you, Lord Voldemort," Draco began, "To help you burn Hogwarts to the ground and to kill Harry Potter and all who stand with him."
Voldemort scanned Draco's face for a moment, then sat back in his chair. "There, you see?" he began, "The boy is telling the truth. That's all for now, Draco, you may leave. Severus, escort the boy to a room fit for living."
"As you wish," Snape replied as he opened the door. Draco stood up and left the room, followed by Snape.
"Veritaserum or no," Crouch said, "I still don't trust him."
"It is not your place to decide whom you can and cannot trust," Voldemort said, "The veritaserum wasn't the only thing ensuring his honesty."
"You saw his mind?" Pettigrew asked.
"Indeed, Wormtail," Voldemort said, "I saw immense hatred. I can use hatred to my advantage."
Snape stormed through the halls, followed by Draco, until he reached a door. He spun on his heels and faced Draco. "You had better be more careful from now on," Snape said.
"I'm not sure what you mean, professor," Draco responded.
"You know exactly what I mean," Snape said, snatching Draco by the collar of his shirt, "This is not a game. You make the wrong move and you're dead."
"Snape, tell me what's going on," Draco said, trying to pry Snape's fingers from his shirt.
"You are not ready to know," Snape remarked, opening the door and flinging Draco into a room, "Get some sleep and wait for the dark lord to summon you again."
Snape slammed the door shut and stormed back down the hallway. Draco waited until the sound of Snape's thudding footsteps were faded away and exhaled deeply. He walked across the room and sat down on the bed nearby. He withdrew his wand and used it to start a fire in the fireplace next to his bed. He stretched out, staring up at the cold stone ceiling. His thoughts started to wander to Ginny, but to his shock, he couldn't conjure her image. He concentrated hard, but couldn't bring up any thoughts of his friends and loved ones back home.
"Is this an effect of the veritaserum?" he thought to himself.
He gave up trying to think of Ginny or anyone else and closed his heavy eyelids to sleep.
Neville sat at the table, picking at his food. Thoughts of Luna had completely taken his focus away from just about everything else. He lifted his head to see the blonde-haired girl of his dreams, merely a table away, and he couldn't even tell her how he felt.
"What good would it do?" he asked himself, "She's Ernie Macmillan's girl now."
Neville's gaze was broken when Seamus sat down across from him, blocking his view of Luna. "You're a better door than a window, Seamus," Neville said.
Seamus glanced behind him to see Luna, then looked back at Neville. "Feeling lovesick, are we?" he asked.
Neville nodded, still picking at his food. "Who knew I could feel this way about someone?" Neville asked, "I mean, I think about her nonstop and all I want to do his hold her in my arms and know that she was mine."
"If it makes you feel any better," Seamus began, "I know exactly how you feel." Neville looked at Seamus, puzzled.
"Padma Patil," Seamus said.
"When did that start?" Neville asked.
"A while back," Seamus said, his mind rewinding back to when it began.
Seamus and Padma were walking through the halls.
"Padma, you wouldn't happen to have the potions work done by chance?" Seamus asked.
"I think I've got it here somewhere," Padma said, searching through her bookbag.
As she pulled a parchment from her bookbag, she glanced ahead as someone was coming around the corner. "Oh bollocks," Padma said.
"What is it?" Seamus asked.
"Terry Boot," Padma replied, "He keeps asking me on a date."
"And I take it you're interested," Seamus said.
"No, I'm not and he doesn't seem to get that," Padma replied, "And frankly I'm running out of reasons to say no.
"Have you tried just saying you're not interested in dating him?" Seamus asked.
"Of course I have," Padma answered, "But he just doesn't get the message."
"I've got an idea," Seamus began, "Why don't you just tell him you already have a boyfriend?"
"That's a brilliant idea," Padma, "Thanks, Seamus."
"Good day, Padma," Terry said, strolling up to her, "I trust you're well today."
"Very well, Terry, thanks," Padma replied.
"Say, Padma," Terry began, "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Perhaps you'd care to join me for a picnic."
"Sorry, Terry," Padma said sweetly, "But I have plans with…with...with my boyfriend for that weekend."
"You have a boyfriend?" Terry asked, "Who?"
"Who?" Padma asked, "Umm…Seamus." Seamus did a double-take at Padma's words.
Terry cocked an eyebrow at the situation. "Seamus?" he asked.
"Uh…yeah, that's right," Seamus said, putting an arm around Padma's waist.
"I see," Terry said, "Well, I must confess I feel a bit foolish asking you on a date. I meant no offense, Seamus."
"It's quite alright," Seamus said.
"We only just began dating," Padma.
"Well, I shall take my leave," Terry said as he turned and walked away.
"Padma, when I said tell him you have a boyfriend," Seamus began, "I didn't mean tell him it was me."
"I'm sorry, Seamus," Padma said, "I just couldn't think of anyone else. It's only for a little while. Please?"
"Alright," Seamus said, "After all, what are friends for?"
"Thanks," Padma said, kissing Seamus on the cheek, "Come on, let's get to class."
Padma skipped off, followed by Seamus, who looked less than pleased.
Seamus had finished recounting the tale of his faux-girlfriend. "I'd already felt something for her," Seamus said, "After awhile, it grew and now, well, I guess I'm the only one not pretending."
Neville sat, still picking at his food. Seamus was doing the same. "At least you get to pretend Padma's really your girlfriend," Neville said, "I have to watch the one I love with someone else."
"I'd prefer that, actually," Seamus said, "Do you know how badly I want to tell Padma that I really love her? That when she kisses me, I'm not pretending?"
"Then tell her," Neville said. "I can't," Seamus remarked, "She's one of my best friends. If I tell her, things could get awkward. I could wind up losing her as a friend."
"It's that or lose your sanity," Neville said, "Unless…"
"Unless what?" Seamus asked.
"Well, Jason said he was going to help me with Luna," Nevile began, "When he comes back, you could ask him to help you with Padma.
"You think he'll do that?" Seamus asked.
"I don't see why not," Neville replied, "Unless he decides he's gonna be angry at you."
"Neville, are you still sore about that?" Seamus asked.
"He blew up at me and I didn't even get to ask him why," Neville responded.
"Well, you did read his journal without his permission," Seamus said.
"I guess that'll be something he and I talk about when he gets back," Neville said.
"I wonder what they're all up to," Seamus said.
Jason was tossing and turning in his sleep. Another one of his nightmares. The carnage and chaos of battle. The bodies of his friends scattered across a vast field, the dirt stained with their blood. And in the middle of it all, sword in hand, was a shadowy figure. A figure of immense evil. Voldemort. It had to be. No, not Voldemort. It was…him. He stood amidst the death, hands smeared with blood, gripping the sword tightly. His chest swelled with heavy breaths, each breath almost relaying a sense of elation at the slaughter. His eyes burned with the same elation, but at the same time seemed empty, as if no emotion existed in them.
Then, he began to laugh. A small chuckle at first which grew to a raucous laugh that resonated with sheer madness. His laughter was cut short when something caught his eye. It was a lone survivor, crawling through the bodies. He reached down and grabbed a handful of brown hair and yanked up…Hermione. He glared at her with his cold, dead eyes. One of her eyes swelled shut while the other filled with tears. She was covered in bruises and cuts. Her breathing was erratic as she muttered a plea for mercy. Her plea fell on deaf ears as he gripped his sword and raised it high. His pitch black eyes gleamed with murderous glee as his lips parted in a grin of fangs as he swung the sword down, its path leading unchallenged to the throat of his love.
With a shriek, Jason awoke from his nightmare, soaked in sweat.
"Jason?" Hermione asked, "Jason, what is it?"
Jason sat still, frozen with terror. Hermione took Jason's head in her hands and turned it to face her. She could see the fear in his eyes.
"Jason, tell me what happened," Hermione said.
Jason couldn't respond. Terror had gripped him tightly and he couldn't find the breath to speak. Hermione pulled Jason close to her, resting his head against her chest. Jason found a sort of comfort in Hermione's arms and slowed his breathing down, wrestling free of the icy terror that had him in its clutches.
"It was awful," Jason said, "Everyone was…dead. By my hands. Mione, what's happening to me?"
Hermione clung tightly to her love. She was terrified, now more than ever, that she was losing him to his dark side. She wanted to roll time back to a simpler time, when Jason's psyche was intact and they were happy. Jason pulled away from Hermione and shifted to tget out of bed.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.
"For a walk," Jason said, "I need to be alone with my thoughts."
Before he could stand up, Hermione grabbed him by the wrist. "Please don't go," she said, "Your thoughts can wait. I need you."
Jason stood for a moment, staring into Hermione's eyes. Without saying a word, he sat back down on the bed and took Hermione into his arms, pressing his lips to hers and laying her down on the bed. It had been awhile since they'd made love and, much to their delight, all their troubles melted away in the height of ecstasy.
Draco awoke to the sound of someone banging on his door. He got to his feet and opened the door to see Peter Pettigrew.
"Master has sent me to bring you to him," he said.
Pettigrew turned and walked down the stone hallway, followed by Draco. Pettigrew opened a door and ushered Draco into a large banquet hall. All the tables had been removed and several people were practicing dark magic. Voldemort stood at the far end of the hall, observing the action. Bellatrix was standing at his side.
"What is this place?" Draco asked.
"Draco," Voldemort said, walking across the room, "Good of you to join us."
"What's going on here?' Draco asked. "Well, Draco," Voldemort began, "Why don't you take a look. Tell me what you see."
Draco scanned the room, its occupants, and their activities. Kyla Matheson was standing over a bucket of water, staring at it intently. She stopped momentarily to look at Draco and flash him a wink before going back to the bucket. Blaise Zabini was standing still, his hand outstretched over a candle. Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson were in a corner, practicing spells. Pansy looked up a Draco and smiled, her eyes aflame with dark desire. Draco scanned everyone once more, then back to Voldemort as realization hit him. Voldemort was training them for a dark purpose. Draco turned back to Voldemort, trying to hide the twinge of fear that had crept into his mind.
"I see Blaise Zabini trying to manipulate the flame of a candle," Draco began, "Pansy Parkinson's trying to extinguish said flame by manipulating the gusts of wind flowing through this room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were attempting to create your own eight and attempt to take the Infinity Pendant."
"Clever boy," Voldemort said.
"But, it appears as if you're missing some people," Draco said.
"On the contrary, Draco," Voldemort hissed, "I have not acquired a Serpent, because I already have you."
"And the Lion?" Draco asked.
"While he is not here," Voldemort said, "He will be among us soon. For now, I want you to rest up. In the morning, you will return to Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Draco asked.
"Yes, Draco," Voldemort replied, "You have an important mission to carry out there. You are to clear three passages from Hogsmeade into the school."
"You plan to take the school?" Draco asked.
Voldemort glared into Draco's eyes, searching for intent, but still only sensing immense hatred. "Not just yet," he finally answered, "There are other things I seek first before we take Hogwarts. Now, back to your room."
Draco turned and moved to the door. "Oh, and Draco," Voldemort hissed, causing Draco to stop and turn around, "Do not fail me."
Draco turned and left the room. He walked through the halls, mulling over Voldemort's words. "What does he want in Hogwarts?" he thought.
As he reached the room, he felt a pair of hands wrap around his waist. He turned around to see Pansy Parkinson standing there. The top buttons on her shirt had been undone, revealing cleavage.
"What do you want?" Draco asked.
"Lord Voldemort suggested that you and I spend tonight together," Pansy replied, leaning into Draco to let him see her cleavage better, "And I'm all too willing to oblige."
"I'm not in the mood," Draco said, "Leave me alone."
"You never used to act like this, Draco," Pansy said, "Don't you want me anymore?"
Draco felt repulsed. He wanted to tell her that the very sight of her made him sick. That she wasn't the one he wanted. But, doing so might endanger everything.
"I said I was not in the mood," Draco said, "I'm tired."
Pansy reached into Draco's pants, grabbing at his member. "I think I can find a way to energize you," she said.
"Pansy, I'm not going to tell you again," Draco said.
"What happened to the Draco I remember?" Pansy asked, unbuttoning more of her shirt, "The Draco who'd make me give him head before quidditch? It's that Weasley bitch, ain't it?"
Draco grabbed Pansy by the shoulders and slammed her hard against the wall. He pressed himself close to Pansy, lifting one of her legs up to his waist and putting a hand on her throat.
"Is this what you want?" Draco asked, "To be treated like a fuckin slut?"
"Yes!" Pansy said in anticipation, "Treat me rough, Draco! Make it hurt! Right here in the hallway!"
Draco once again grabbed Pansy by the shoulders and threw her to the floor. "I've had enough of this," he said, "Read my lips. I. Am. Not. In. The. Mood. Push the issue and you'll regret it."
Draco stormed into his room and slammed the door shut, leaving a partially undressed Pansy on the floor in the hallway. He laid down on his bed, still his mind still spinning with frustration, anger, and much to his surprise, sexual desire. He couldn't get past it. Draco sat up, trying to analyze what had just happened. He didn't want to admit it, but treating Pansy as rough as he had turned him on.
"Is that really me?" he thought, "Do I get off on being rough with women?"
Draco decided he'd had enough and laid back down, letting himself sink back into sleep. In the morning, he'd be going back to Hogwarts and back to Ginny. No, it wouldn't be that easy. He'd performed an unforgivable curse on his own fiancée. What would she say to him when he returned? What would the others think? Sudden dread of the future prevented Draco from sleeping peacefully all night long.
A/N: So that's 27. 28 will be up hopefully soon.