Slytherin's angel

Chapter 31- The plan

It felt has if he had been underwater: his muscles seized in terror, not sure if he would ever make it to the surface, sure that his end was going to come in the form of painful suffocation. Just as he felt the end nearing, it was as if a hand that yanked him from the murky depths below, his lungs screaming with air as he gasped once his head broke the surface. That was how it felt when the lobby light hit him again, grateful to see the glittering chandeliers and the stamping thuds.

Draco was petrified into silence as he watched Bellatrix stroll in front of him, the armful of unnamed Dark objects clanging together as she stumbled through the large doors once more. He looked to his mother, hoping that he could communicate his fear to her through her eyes. Narcissa looked up at him for a moment, but then quickly looked away as if his gaze would burn her.

"Mr. Malfoy, your key." The goblin called after them as they started to walk down the length of the aisle.

"Yes." Draco muttered, grabbing the key distractedly, hurrying after Bellatrix, who decided that he was not worth waiting for now that she had what she had longed after.

Just as they were going to exit through the front doors, Bellatrix turned to him, an evil smirk plastered on her face.

"Come, Draco, let us show these to the Dark Lord. He will be most pleased."


***

They were told to meet Bellatrix back at her cottage after Draco and Narcissa had dropped off the money that they had taken from the vault at the Manor.

With shaking hands, Draco put the money on the parlor table, the coins spinning and clashing into one another. He collapsed on the floor, feeling as if he knees had suddenly been struck by Bludgers. He tried desperately to hold himself up by his arms on the edge of the table.

What had he done?

Draco rubbed his face, brushing his hair out of the way. He felt his mother's gentle hand on his shoulder, "Draco?"

"What have I done?" His voice quaked, "I can't go on knowing that I have given her those...things."

Narcissa sat next to him, pulling his hand away to look at his face. "She would've found some way to make you give them to her anyway."

Draco shook his head, "I knew I shouldn't have stayed here, I should've gone to another country or something!"

"You think hiding is going to do anything?" Narcissa asked him gently, "Draco, they are more persistent than you think. Your punishment would've been far worse had you ran."

Draco looked up at her, her blue eyes tired with worry. He had never noticed that wrinkles were starting to set in their corners. Maybe it had happened in the last week, or in the within the last month since his father died. He had always been to preoccupied with taking care of himself that he didn't notice that she too, was struggling to keep herself together.

"We have to stay here...and pretend." Narcissa consoled him.

Draco gave her a puzzled look, "Pretend? You've been doing it for years, this isn't anything new to you."

"Yes, but now the person binding me to that is no longer here." Narcissa told him gently stroking the cotton of his dress shirt.

He looked at her, leaning his head into hers. "I'll get us out of this, I promise."

Narcissa pulled her head back to look at him, shaking her head, "Draco, there have to be bad people in the world. I think we got dealt a bad hand and this is where we're supposed to be, even if we don't like it."

It was the most depressing thing he had ever heard, but in the back of his mind, he felt as though she was right.

"I miss...her." He choked, rubbing his tight throat. He thought that he might have felt better about confessing it, but he just felt worse.

He turned to look at her in the eyes, seeing the same sort of pain reflecting back to him that he felt: missing someone that was long gone.

"Do you think I'll ever see her again?" He asked quietly.

"Not anymore than I will ever see Lucius." She looked at him painfully.

It was the answer he never wanted to hear. He promised her he would come back for her. If he promised, didn't that guarantee that the fates would work in his favor?

"You may see her." Narcissa tried again, "But I think that by the time this is all over, she would have moved on, Draco. She's beautiful, and I-I..."

She trailed off, the pain in her son's face too hard to look at. Her shoulders slumped, and she started again, "I was never a believer in filling your head with clouds. I wanted you to know the realities of the world. Perhaps this is one of those times where I should."

Draco stared at her.

"I just want you to know...that sometimes, people don't wait for us." She grimaced at him.

"Ashley's different." He told her, averting his gaze to stare at the cream carpet. It was too painful thinking about her, he could feel his stomach twist in knots and his heart constrict. But not thinking about her was even more painful. She was his only sedative to his addiction.

"I hope so, Draco." She rose from her seat, brushing off her pants, "I really do."

Draco couldn't respond, but nodded in understanding.

"Come on," She told him, "I'm sure she's already wondering where we are."

Before she could reach for the pot on the fireplace mantle, Bellatrix burst through.

"Where have you been?" She growled, "You said you had to drop off your money. It doesn't take that long."

She looked to Draco's pathetic appearance, huddled on the floor.

"Get up." She sneered, "I will not have him coming to your house in that state."

"H-him?" Draco stammered, looking at her in horror as she pulled back her sleeve, revealing the black Mark, bobbing up and down slowly on her arm.

Draco stumbled to his feet, watching her in horror as she threw him one last look before she touched an index finger to the Mark.

Draco might as well not stood up at all, for the pain was unbearable. His forearm seared as he grasped it in blinding pain. He heard whispering is his head, "We are being called, let us join together, brothers and sisters."

Draco whimpered at the sound of the hissing in his head. He recognized it all too well, and wished to run away, but he couldn't, his pain cemented him on the floor. He pulled his sleeve up quickly, seeing the Mark go from pitch black to angry red.

Within moments he heard people bursting through the door and a low growl filled the entrance parlor.

Fear started to rise in Draco as the double doors burst open, revealing the Death Eaters, mask-less, but with hoods pulled over their faces. Draco scanned their faces, looking for the one that he feared most.

All of a sudden, a shadow came over the house. He looked up in panic at the nearest window, the sunshine fading from view, a breeze blowing the branches against the pane. It was like a sudden storm had set over the house, but he knew what it truly was.

"He's coming." Bellatrix purred, pushing past her nephew towards the front door.

Draco looked to his mother, who motioned him over quickly in the corner. When the pain had become bearable, he rushed over to his mother, his only comfort in the room of dark figures.

"It always hurts worse the first time." Narcissa whispered quietly, "It hurt your father his first time too."

"My Lord, my Lord." He heard Bellatrix grovel. "It is an honor, an honor."

Narcissa tightened her grip on Draco's arm, but when he looked over to her, her face was calm, as if this was nothing more than an afternoon tea with friends. Draco tried to mimic his mother, but found that he was too afraid to do so. He kept his eyes moving, never looking at the others for too long.

He was caught off guard when they all started to bow, his mother doing the same. He followed suit, his blond hair falling into his eyes.

When they looked up, he saw Voldemort enter the room, Bellatrix looking like a giggling girl as she followed closely behind him. Draco watched as he seemed to be looking for something, until his eyes landed on him and Narcissa.

"Ah, Narcissa." He wheezed, "It is good to see you. I am so sorry...Lucius was a rather...valuable part of our cause."

Narcissa stared at him, the fear starting to seep through her. Draco watched helplessly as he came around the couch, his black cloak billowing behind him, as he reached for her hand. Narcissa offered it to him, giving him a worried look, as he covered it with hers. Anger and fear started to tear through him as he patted Narcissa's hand. Draco nearly fainted when he turned to him.

"Ah, Draco." He seemed slightly perplexed, "I am surprised to see you here with us, although I am very pleased, my dear boy, but, you had specifically requested to finish school. And I, being the giving being that I am, let you. You dishonor me by not keeping your word."

He could feel the eyes of everyone else on him. Bellatrix's hissing filled his ears, displeased that her nephew was causing her Lord the slightest bit of disappointment.

"I am being sent my studies daily, my Lord." Draco hurried quickly, growing uneasy with all the eyes on him, "With my father gone-''

"Yes..." He drawled, squinting at him as if he knew that he was hiding something. "My sincerest regards, Draco."

Draco could've sworn he saw his eyes flicker to Bellatrix for a mere second.

Draco nodded, "My mother needed help and I thought-''

"Of course you did." Voldemort lowered his head to look his straight in the eyes, "That's what families are for, aren't they? To take care of one another."

Voldemort stared him down for a few moments, but Draco had to avert his gaze.

"Come, Narcissa." Voldemort turned towards her again, taking her hand, walking her towards the large dining room.

They filed after his mother and Voldemort; Bellatrix sulked behind them angrily, glaring at her sister as if she had snatched the prize right out of her hands. Narcissa wasn't looking too comfortable as she walked with him into the room. As soon as she entered, Narcissa pulled her hand back, cradling it with her other as if it was injured.

Draco let the others file in, knowing full well that he was lowest in rank and had to enter last.

His stomach squirmed as he saw the artifacts from his vault already on the table, wondering how Bellatrix had gotten them there when she hadn't come through the fireplace with them.

Draco closed the door to the dining room quietly, silently shuffling over to the last seat at the table, the lowest in rank closest to the door.

Voldemort looked at him immediately, steepling his fingers together and squinting at him.

"Draco, please." Voldemort called, gesturing to the seats immediate to his left and right. "Come sit closer."

Draco stared at him, unsure of what to do. He gripped the sides of his chair in fear, squeezing so tight he could almost feel his joints popping.

"Draco." He called again, but this time, it was more of a warning. "Perhaps in Fenrir's palce."

The Werewolf gave him a deadly glare as Draco slowly rose from his seat, his heels clicking slowly on the dark floorboard. Fenrir followed him with his dark eyes, challenging him.

"Fenrir." Voldemort repeated, staring at his hairy face.

Fenrir averted his gaze, rising from his seat. Draco couldn't help but stare at his face as Fenrir pushed his chair back angrily, making sure to knock him back with his broad shoulder, stomping down the length of the table to take Draco's old seat.

Carefully, Draco sat down next to his mother, who nearly jumped as she felt him pat his leg underneath the table in reassurance.

Voldemort gave him a smile, "Much better, don't you think?"

The others nodded their heads slowly, fumbling with their hands in their laps and casting side long glances at each other.

Voldemort sighed contently, looking to the objects lying in the center of the table.

Bellatrix saw her chance to gain back his attention, piping, "We were able to attain these, my Lord. Aren't they magnificent?"

Voldemort studied them for a moment, cocking his head as he rested it on his hand, "Tell me, dear Bellatrix, where did you acquire such...artifacts?"

"From Draco, my Lord." Bellatrix gave him a winning smile, leaning forward to try and read his reaction.

Voldemort's eyes flickered back to the young man, completely bypassing Bellatrix, who was unable to hide her disappointment.

"Draco." He drawled, "You are quite...impressive."

All he could do was nod his head and stare at the tangle of rusting metal sitting feet before him. He fantasized about stunning everyone and then running out with it, dumping it in his lake or something, anything to not let anyone use this on anyone else. But he couldn't. He was stuck there, forced to play the hand he was dealt with.

"I retrieved them for you, my Lord." Bellatrix leaned over the table, hiding Draco's form from Voldemort's line of sight in attempt to gain his attention once more.

Seemingly caught out of some sort of trance, Voldemort flicked his eyes over to her. He nodded at her once, looking back to the center of the table.

"And what do you propose to do, Bellatrix?" He looked over to her.

She was caught off guard, like she had thought the answer was fairly obvious, yet didn't know how to answer it.

"My Lord?" She frowned.

"You've gone to great lengths to acquire these, I'm assuming that there is a purpose in which they serve?" He looked to her once more.

The others shifted uncomfortably, a cough echoed from the end of the table.

Bellatrix sat there in silence for a moment, but then a smirk twisted across her face.

"There is someone." She stated.

Draco could feel the tension double in the room. All of the others seemed to lean forward with bated breath, wondering what bloke had crossed the line with Bellatrix this time.

"They are starting to investigate the death of Lucius." Bellatrix offered, "And Draco is obviously at the center of it."

Voldemort looked to him, "Is that so?"

Bellatrix nodded, continuing, "Delinda Fleagle is heading the investigation and has threatened Draco numerous times. She's given us trouble for years. I've had quite enough and I say we put an end to her."

"What say you, Draco?" He asked him.

Draco looked to his mother, who looked guilty of confessing this piece of information to his sister.

"She's rather loose-lipped." Bellatrix cackled, pushing Narcissa playfully, "Couldn't keep her mouth shut if she made a Vow to it."

Narcissa hung her head, not willing to stand up for herself.

"I made it clear to Fleagle to not bother me anymore." Draco piped quickly, "She's not a threat."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows, "Do you mean to tell me you took care of her?"

Snickers filled the dining room, but he shook them off. "No, my Lord. But..."

"But what?" Voldemort spat, his patience running low. "We have to eliminate those who interfere, before they become threats. We are the pruners of this world, Draco. We are obligated to wipe out those who stand in the way of our cause."

Draco looked at him, knowing there was nothing they could do. Once Bellatrix had her mind set, there was no stopping her until the task was completed, especially if it was from Voldemort.

Voldemort looked to the others, waiting for an objection. "I must agree with Bellatrix. I feel as if we are getting too soft. We have not made a public appearance in almost two years. Already you can see how quickly the world is crumbling when we do not give a little push sometimes. Draco, our youngest recruit, being interrogated for a crime he clearly did not commit? He is the future of our cause, we must protect him."

He looked at each and every one of them, waiting for some sort of objection. When one did not come and the rest sat in silence, he announced. "Then, let us get started."