The Mark of a Death Eater

Malfoy Manor

"Do you exchange gifts?" I asked, as Malfoy and I walked to Snape's office. "Yeah, but now it's just me and my mum." He grinned that smirking smile of his. "And you," he added. "And are we going to go shopping?" I asked. He shrugged. "If you want, sure."

I'd packed very little, since I wouldn't be staying for long. Included in my trunk was the black dress I was supposed to wear at home this Christmas and the book of Tom Riddle. I hadn't been paying as much attention to it as I should have. To be completely honest, it was beginning to frighten me. How could he have found the book in the Chamber of Secrets? No one's been in there. Except... the one who opened the chamber the first time. The one the press believed to be Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper. As far as I was concerned, Rubeus Hagrid was not called Tom Riddle, not was he in Slytherin, and it was impossible for me to believe that a person of his low intellect would write as eloquently as Tom Riddle. No, they weren't the same person. Not at all.

I'd rushed down to my room to hug Daphne tightly, and promise to write and see her soon. I made a note to remember to send an owl to Arrianne and Zayn, and maybe McLaggen. And, the idea formed quickly in my mind as if it knew it would be forced out, perhaps Ginny Weasley. I seemed to be sociable this year.

In Snape's office, a tall fire that seemed almost eery in the dark crackled. "Your mother requested you both be sent by Floo network," Professor Snape explained as he materialized next to me. I nodded in acknowledgement, but Draco ignored him. Draco stepped up to the fireplace, and tossed a sprinkling of powder into it. Green flames burst to life, and I couldn't help but wonder why everything in my life was so GREEN. Clearly, he said, "Malfoy Manor," then stepped neatly inside. He spun in the spot a few times, then disappeared. I gave a last look at the class and followed suite. Before I left completely, I could have sworn I heard Snape's voice hissing quietly through the dark. "See you soon." And the rest was a stone blur.

My first impression of the Manor was that it was very echoey. The first thing I noticed was Malfoy hugging a woman with pale, long hair. She was fair, almost pale in skin tone, and seemed to have most of her energy drained. Still, she appeared beautiful. Next to her, a lady with dark curls watched me with what looked like a sneer. Malfoy's mother pulled me into a light hug and we exchanged casual and empty pleasantries, but the dark haired lady didn't offer me any words. Bellatrix. I'd know that name anywhere. "Please do call me Emma," I said to Mrs Malfoy, trying hard to refrain from whispering. The house was so cold and empty. Much like mine. "I prefer it over my full name." "Of course," she replied. "You can put your bag upstairs. You may use any room you like," she said. I thanked her and made my way along the hall.

My footsteps echoed loudly against the floor and any movement I made was amplified in noise. It took me not very long to realise that Bellatrix was following me. I peeked into two rooms (in one, the sight of the dark green hangings and furnishings made me queasy) before I found one I liked. It had ordinary beige walls with light gold patterning, a very large bed with only slightly shimmering gold sheets and seemingly oak furniture. A painting of a woman hung on one of the walls, but I didn't look at it really. It looked simple enough, but it was the lightness of the room that I took to.

Bellatrix followed me to the room, but hung around the door as I pulled my trunk against the bed. "So, you're the girl set to help Draco," she said haughtily. "I am," I answered, my back to. "They say you're fair enough in the arts," she said. Her tone implied how little she thought of that. I ignored her and snapped open my trunk.
"Let me make something clear," she hissed, suddenly fierce. "If you do anything to mess this up for Draco, anything, I will kill you-" "Slowly and painfully?" I finished. I yawned. "Okay. I'm tired though, so can you threaten me tomorrow?" I asked. My heart was beating slightly out of it's normal rhythm, but I wasn't going to let her know that. She gave a glare worthy of death, but seemed unwilling to step into the room. "Listen to me carefully, you pathetic brat," she growled. "I'm not prepared to," I answered. And I slammed the door shut.

I curled up on the bed, my heart hammering, and waited for her to spell the door open. Nothing happened. After a while, I allowed myself to believe she left, and fell asleep in my clothes.

Nightmares came and went throughout the night.