The Problem

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I watched you ruin my life and build it all over to suit yours

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I watched you ruin my life and build it all over to suit yours.

Draco wasn't happy, at all.

After shooing them all out of the meeting room, Voldemort had declared that he wanted to have a private chat with the new addition. Draco's eyes had met hers behind the shutting doors, he stole his gaze after seeing the malice in hers. And he just knew that she was up to something, she didn't need to say it out loud, it was visible in the twitch of her mouth.

He heaved a sigh when Wormtail scurried to him and dragged his weight into his fate. The room was darker than before, or perhaps it was the tension blocking the light. She sat at the head of the room, gleaming black shoes up on the table and tall fingers grabbing around the delicate curves of a glass of wine. Draco wondered who she was all over again.

"My lord." Draco muttered, head hanging low. Voldemort's pale black toes poked over his robe and he tilted his head, carefully watching every twitch of the mop of blonde in front of him. 

A loud cough made Draco's head bop upwards. Beckham's cheeks had turned a light shade of...black? She brought her hand down from her mouth, it was red with blood, traces of black smoke lingered around it. Draco blinked, and they were gone. Her cheeks were back to pale and her fingertips were scarlet with her blood. The black had disappeared in the dark of the room. 

"Are you fine?" Voldemort looked at her.

"Indeed." She raised her glass of wine to her lips. Pushing her feet off the wood and standing to her feet, she walked towards Draco. "Shall we get to business?"

"Of course." Voldemort nodded.

"We are the world's last hope of restoring the true power among those who deserve it, Muggles should not be aware of what they lack the wit to be aware of." She started. Voldemort smiled in agreement. "Being the last means that each member matters as a true cause to our will. Which indeed makes our secrecy all the more of great importance." Draco looked among the two.

What am I doing here?

"Good question Malfoy." She turned to look at his alarmed face. "You are a new member, correct?"

"Yes." Draco's voice cracked.

"You haven't proven yourself worthy of this cause, have you?"

Draco looked up at her with narrowed eyes. "Not yet."

"Which gives you a chance to do so." 

Draco looked at Voldemort and then at her. "Excuse my boldness but I already do have a mission."

"I have heard. You are to find a way for a few members into Hogwarts, correct?"

"Yes." Draco nodded

"And how do you wish to do so?" She tilted her head.

"There is a vanishing cabinet in the room of requirements, and another in one of our headquarters in Knockturn Alley." She gulped her wine with a raised brow. "The cabinet in Hogwarts, however, is out of use. I figured if I could fix it-"

"Yes yes yes. But nailing a bunch of junks together will do nothing to prove your faith."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you suggest?" He sneered.

"I don't know." She walked around the table, a look of looming ponder across her face, she stopped at the end opposite him and smiled. "Murder, perhaps?"

Draco looked at Voldemort in horror, he was often the one to do the questioning and ordering around, and now, he stood, watching her create the mayhem with a crooked smile. 

"Who?"

"That shall be decided for you." Voldemort spoke in. "You are dismissed."

Draco paused for a moment, taking her in before turning to the door.

I don't like this new addition at all. 

"Malfoy." She called. Draco looked at her over his shoulder. "Be careful of what you think, you never know who's listening in." She set her wine on the rich dark wood, and even in the dark of the room, Draco could see the traces of her vermilion fingertips on the curved glass.

-

Oh how he wanted to just tear her hair off her sculpt.

"Is it always this quiet around here?" Beckham asked as Draco led her through the dark corridors of the manor. Draco glared at her calm aura of innocence. She teared her eyes away from Abraxas Malfoy who stared at them glide across the stairs.

"Are you bipolar?" Draco whispered quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth whispered back.

"You were just destroying my life down there and now you're looking at me...like that." Draco whispered again only to be glared at.

"Are you any better? You're a two sided bastard who was talking like a dude from the Renaissance times a few ago while I for one know how many useful words you have up in that mop of blonde where you've been cursing the shit out of me." She raised a brow. "Besides, I just ruined your life, aren't you going to live up to the Malfoy reputation and hang me or something?"

"Oh darling, if you can hear thoughts you should know I've been planning your murder for some time."

"Don't call me that."

"Hit a nerve, darling?" Draco felt his thighs hit the wooden rails of the stair case which let out a dangerous creak. He felt himself lean backwards. She was on top of him.

"We're both trying to survive through this war, but we have a difference, you know what that is Malfoy?" Draco looked back at the ground, a fall from up here would give him quite a bruise. He looked back at the wand at his throat ad hurriedly shook his head. "I will do just about anything. It would be such a shame to add your little head to the collection I already have. So, in short, don't mess with me."

Draco took a deep breath when she stepped away; looking at her with fury as she dusted off her hands. He shook his head and wordlessly climbed the rest of the stairs.

Draco later realized that he had made the worst mistake of his life by not taking her words at heart. His misery would prove him that he had, once again, made the wrong choice.

But there was a weird magnificence to her that he couldn't resist. The only thing he could do was accept his destiny and fall in her trap. He was like a drop of water.

Helpless.

Falling and falling from the top of the stairs to meet his end, but he would see the other drops and tell himself that it was only natural, that he had no choice. And maybe it would help him get a half decent sleep, but he would wake and he would remember his misery, which funnily enough had a name among the Death-Eaters.

The devil.

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