two rings and bad things

52_ death eater meeting

A home isn't supposed to be where someone is the most afraid. Being home shouldn't mean constantly looking over your shoulder for danger, either, or being scared to fall asleep in your own bed.

But that's exactly what the Malfoy Manor had turned into for Draco Malfoy.

The past few months for him were absolutely horrifying.

The Dark Lord took sanctuary there, and although it was a very large mansion, Draco always felt the presence of his breath down his neck.

Draco was hesitant with his every move, careful to not upset You-Know-Who and trying his best to avoid him.

Most days he locked himself in his room, hiding from all the dark magic, even though he knew the door could've been broken down in an instant.

This was not the place he grew up in. Not where he would play hide and seek for hours with his childhood friends, and not where he and Ed made cookies when she snuck in a couple summers ago.

In fact, he had been counting down the days until Hogwarts. Even though Death Eaters roamed the place, it was where the Dark Lord was not. That was all he asked for.

But instead, this is what it came to.

There was no escaping the evil that loomed over his family. Until the Dark Lord was killed, they were trapped in this miserable existence.

This included attending the Death Eater meetings, which Draco was dreading tonight.

There were quite a few, and he quickly figured out they always meant someone was going to be murdered. Whether it was just a plan or not, it always revolved around violence.

"Yaxley, Snape," said Voldemort in his chilling voice when the wizards entered the room.

"You are very nearly late."

"Severus, here," he indicated to the seat to his right.

"Yaxley—next to Dolohov," he instructed.

Draco was surprised Voldemort didn't just kill them for being late.

Everyone was already seated at the long wooden table, waiting patiently for the Dark Lord and not daring to speak out of turn.

They soon began discussing when Harry would be relocated, so they could attack, but Draco wasn't paying attention at all.

There was a body floating directly above his head that he couldn't tear his eyes from. The women's mouth was gaped open and her face was bloody and bruised; this was the work of the Dark Lord that he so feared.

He was merciless, and it scared Draco so much that he could barely breath.

There was a scream a while later, startling Draco. He didn't know who was being kept downstairs, and didn't even want to know what happened.

"Wormtail," Voldemort yelled.

"Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet?"

"Yes m—my Lord," Peter Pettigrew replied, scurrying from the room.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued.

"I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

Every single person was shocked. Wands were a part of who they were, and without them they were completely defenseless.

"No volunteers?"

"Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

Lucius looked up, his eyes shadowed and exhausted, his voice rough, and his skin tinted gray.