Bloodlust

Chapter XXIII

"I want the Mudblood presented to me as soon as possible."

"Certainly, my Lord," Malfoy replied as he paid his respect.

The Dark Lord nodded, indicating approval for Malfoy's dismissal.

Malfoy turned in his heels, heading out of the old courtroom with a cold and sharp expression.

The surroundings were deadly freezing, yet the blazing and pulsing anger within Malfoy was beyond compare. The seething threat of fury within him rushed through his veins, too close to ending his limits. His molar grind against each other painfully as he strived on containing the urge to lash out and shatter anything in sight.

Seamus Finnigan failed to cross the borders and got himself arrested by Bellatrix. He failed to deliver Malfoy's forewarning to George Weasley. Malfoy was certain that George and his brainwashed part of the Order would initiate attacks later.

A stream of sore shivers ran across his nerves.

Malfoy flounced towards the Ministry floor, eyes fixed on one of the floos.

The green flames swallowed Malfoy within seconds and hauled him to a secluded illegal apparition point. The position of General came with a handful of privileges, including access to borders and illegal apparition points. As he landed on the right spot, Malfoy centred his mind on one location. The travel lasted a few minutes, taking him to a place he barely visited - a place he should never visit.

The Grimmauld's Place. The principal headquarters for the Order. The ancestral house appeared as it recognized Malfoy.

The door swung out of its framing as Malfoy entered, splinters of the shattered oak wood flew all over the place. The ambience of the room dropped. The heavy sense of dark magic emitting from Malfoy dragged the lightness of the air, setting everyone in the room in gradual suffocation, or at least those who were not accustomed to the exposure of concentrated dark magic.

Malfoy stormed inside the living room, eyes searching manically for a six-foot and three inches-tall red-headed man that had the talent to crawl up his nerves those past few weeks.

Surprisingly, there were only a few people present at the headquarters at the moment.

Luna lay comfortably on the maroon settee, both arms raised with a wand in one hand, practising charms in the air. Blue sparkles, as though a small galaxy levitated above her head. The air cleansing charm.

Dean Thomas sharpened his blades as he sat beside Cho Chang who was preoccupied, staring blankly at a seemingly crumpled photograph of Cedric Diggory.

Sat on the chair next to the window was Ginny Weasley, wearing one of Harry's old sweaters. The strive for survival was unmistakable on the structures of her face - the dark shadow under her eyes, the drought displayed on her lips, the weight she lost, and the glow of life dripping off her.

Dean stood, and guarded the woman beside him, holding his wand at the ready. Luna stood from her spot calmly, eyes glancing carefully at Ginny, waiting for her reaction.

Ginny turned sharply. Shock crossed her whole being, causing her to lose grip on the coffee mug in her hand. She stood alarmed.

"Malfoy?" Ginny called with disbelief in her voice.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be - " Ginny paused.

"Did something happen to Hermione?" Ginny asked, almost teary as she did so.

"Where is he?" Malfoy asked as he searched around. Searching out random rooms, even the ones with heavy wards.

"Who?" Ginny asked as worry began to float evidently in her tone.