Graduation
Graduation had come far too soon, Ginny pondered, as she made her way down to the Great Hall where she knew her family would be gathered. She had barely slept as she tossed and turned sick with worry for Ron, for Harry, for Hermione, for all the Weasleys, and basically for everyone. Any one with common sense knew that Harry's graduation marked the start of the war, and with all of her family in the Order except Percy, they were all in significant danger.
The loneliness she knew she could deal with, she'd been enduring it for as long as she had been old enough to know what loneliness was, and even more so since the incident in the Chamber of Secrets. She was an outcast of her family, the only girl, and the youngest and as it seemed, she was also the most foolish.
She couldn't honestly say that she had been completely neglected because her brothers loved and cherished her without question, but she knew she had been overlooked. She had always coped, and she had always been okay, and her brothers had unknowingly taken advantage of that. But now Ron knew of the damage it had caused. Well, it really was too late. He'd be gone next school year and she would be alone again.
Ron along with Harry would be completing their Auror training, which would take only one year as they (along with Hermione) had taken secret lessons with Remus, Tonks, Madeye Moody or any other member of the Order who could spare the time. Hermione however had chosen to become a healer and study Wizard History. Why Hermione had chosen to embark on this path Ginny didn't know, perhaps it was to do with something about her parents being dentists which involved medicine - Ginny didn't really care. It wasn't that she didn't like Hermione. Quite the contrary, Ginny highly admired and respected her. She just couldn't help resenting Hermione for 'taking' Ron away from her.
Ginny sighed as she reached the last staircase that descended to the Great Hall. She was happy for Ron. She was just so scared… she hated the loneliness but knew that nothing could really be done about it. She had Luna, Eleanor and Colin but somehow even though they were great friends, there was still a gaping hole in her heart that she longed to have filled.
Smiling, she entered the Great Hall and was immediately greeted by her parents and brothers.
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Draco stood at the balcony overlooking the Hogwarts grounds. Parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and siblings young and old made their way to the castle. Today was graduation; today marked the end of one chapter of his life; tomorrow was a new beginning, in an entirely different world. Tomorrow he would throw caution to the wind and become what was written in stone since the day he was born. Today would be the last he ever saw of the Weaslette for a long time. He was relieved, yet felt a great sense of loss. Finally he would be able to fully concentrate and dedicate his life to succeeding his ambition.
"Your mother's here, Drake." Blaise nudged him gently making Draco turn to face his friend. He'd not seen his mother since the Christmas break; he didn't know how he'd face her now.
Nodding Draco headed down the stairs towards the Great Hall where people were mingling and talking in hushed voices. Some nudged each other as he passed, some pointed at him and whispered. Draco smirked. Of course, he was the only son and heir of Lucius Malfoy, one of the richest wizards in Britain and one of the most notorious Death Eaters in the Dark Lord's upper ranks.
"Mother." Draco bowed his head slightly once he found Narcissa talking quietly with the Zabinis and Mr. Parkinson, turning to them Draco nodded, "Mr. Parkinson, Mr. and Mrs. Zabini."
Narcissa turned to her son and nodded, "Draco." She smiled before turning back to the Zabini's and Parkinson. Draco knew he was now excused. It was normal for his mother to be cold in public; affection was almost a taboo in the Malfoy family, and no doubt his mother had learnt to conform to his father's cruel ways - the ways in which Draco himself was schooled.
Turning to Blaise, Draco nodded and motioned to an isolated area of the Great Hall with his eyes. Both men walked to the shadowed secluded corner.
"This could be our last words for a long time, Blaise," Draco muttered.
Blaise sighed, "Aye, that it could be, Drake… you know where to find me."
Draco nodded slowly. "Yes, and I will when the time comes. Watch her for me, Blaise," he said softly. His eyes wondered to the blotch of red hair in the sea of heads gathered in the Great Hall. The Weasley's stood out like a bright red beacon and Ginevra like a supreme goddess among them, surrounded by her protectors. "Through your Eleanor watch her for me."
She turned, feeling the all too familiar eyes washing over her, and found him half hidden in the shadows watching her. She stared back, her eyes sparked in hatred but his eyes didn't waver. They penetrated into her mind and pierced her heart like a frozen blade. His eyes were so cold and yet so deep, and her message to him was clear - hurt any of her family and she would hunt him down and kill him. His eyes were inscrutable.
He smirked and mouthed, "So long, Weaslette."
Ginny bared her teeth and a hiss escaped her lips making Ron turn to look at her, and following his gaze - whatever it was Ginny was hissing at had gone. "Ginny?" he nudged.
Blinking a few times Ginny turned to Ron and smiled, "What?"
Ron shook his head and grinned, "Nothing, love, you ok?"
Ginny nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine, it's all a bit strange though."
"Ah, it'll be alright, I'll drop in to see you from time to time, on your Hogsmeade trips. Besides, you've got a whole summer of me to go through with yet." Ron chuckled, "Look, there comes Bill and Charlie."
Ginny spun around to see her two eldest brothers and ran towards them, her arms open wide as she crashed into the awaiting arms of Bill.
"Bill!" she giggled, "Oh, I've really missed you! And you Charlie," she cried as she hugged her brothers.
She really was the jewel of the Weasley clan, Draco observed. Yet they were all ignorant of her suffering, except Ron who had only just been recently enlightened.
He watched her smile and laugh as each brother in turn embraced and kissed her - their little angel, their little goddess, so precious, so innocent, so seemingly naïve, and she played her part so well, so convincingly and never let them know or see of the pain.
.
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The ceremony began and dragged on as Dumbledore made his opening speech and McGonagall called each seventh year to claim their diplomas. Granger was the valedictorian; there was no surprise about that. The hall fell silent when his name was called, and he was announced as one of Hogwarts top graduates. Whispers could be heard echoing around the Great Hall as he walked past McGonagall to receive his diploma from Dumbledore.
Bowing before taking his Diploma Draco noted Dumbledore's smile and wink, "Keep your faith, Draco," the headmaster said softly.
Draco nodded. "Yes, sir," he muttered, before heading back into the crowd. She was staring at him, her face set. Smirking, he stared back for a few brief moments and inclined his head slightly.
That was the last he saw of her, her forever hateful eyes staring through him.
.
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Narcissa turned to embrace Draco the minute they apparated back to Malfoy Manor, "Oh, Draco my son," she whimpered, her eyes full with tears and wide with fear. "Your father is waiting… in his study; you're to go with him."
Draco smiled somewhat sadly as he returned his mother's embrace briefly and pulled back. His eyes stared into hers. "I cannot choose the path in which I must walk, Mother, but the steps I take along that path are mine to determine." His voice barely a whisper as he raised his mother's hands softly to his lips, "There is good in me yet. Mother, I bid you farewell… until we meet again." And then he was gone.
Narcissa stood like a lifeless zombie; she felt fear like she'd never feared before. For so long she'd been petrified of the man Draco would become, but that fear was nothing compared to this terror. For almost two decades, she had to stand by and follow her husband's ways. She had no say in how Draco was to be raised, but now and during the Christmas break, having seen a side of her son she'd never known to exist, she felt proud. Her son was a man of honour, however arrogant, ambitious and proud he may be, he was not evil - at least not entirely.
"I win Lucius, through Draco I triumph," she whispered to herself.
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Draco stood staring out over the sea from the courtyard high up on a cliff of the great black fortress dubbed "Morsmordre Castle", it was situated, on an isolated and unplottable island off the northern coast of Ireland. The castle was rumoured to have been the home of Salazar Slytherin himself when he had left Hogwarts. It was now home and headquarters to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Those who proved faithful to the Dark Order had access to this desolate and dark place.
It was here that Draco had spent the last three months in intensive training under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord himself - much to Lucius pleasure and pride. Draco knew his father felt singled out and honoured that the Dark Lord had chosen his son over everyone else for such training. But after a week Lucius was sent on an assignment of recruiting, kidnapping, controlling and destroying as well as torturing muggles whenever he could spare a moment.
A few weeks after his own arrival, Goyle and Crabbe arrived with Flint (who had already joined the lower ranks of the Dark Order last year); they were put under the supervision of Bellatrix and McNair. Draco smirked. He knew his aunt would thoroughly enjoy punishing his former "bodyguards" for their stupidity. He almost pitied Crabbe and Goyle. It wasn't their fault they were born with abnormally thick skulls. They could barely speak, let alone cast spells. Draco had stood silently in the Throne room when the two oafs were brought before the Dark Lord, and Voldemort practically dismissed them to their mentors on sight.
Ever so often Voldemort would summon a gathering in what was known as the "Throne Room". The room was slightly bigger than The Great Hall at Hogwarts and although the similarities were apparent the differences between the two great castles were striking. There were no wide-eyed students with innocent faces, and only one long table situated in the centre of the room. The walls and floor were of black stone, as if they had been burnt and the ceiling was not enchanted. There was no beauty at all about Morsmordre Castle as it was as dark and evil as its master and his ancestor before him.
Hanging from the grim walls were weapons and instruments of torture and restraint, chains with cuffs could be seen spaced out randomly as they hung from the walls, Draco could almost imagine the prisoners hanging from their wrists. Some parts of the wall were darker than others, Draco could only assume that they were blood stains of victims over the centuries.
"Drakkus," Voldemort rasped. The Dark Lord had called him this since his arrival, why Voldemort had given him this nickname Draco did know nor did he want to.
Stepping forward Draco bowed. "My Lord," he said coolly and straightened to his impressive full height.
Voldemort stood from his throne-like chair and descended the black stone steps towards where Draco stood. "Come."
Draco followed his master out of the throne room and down many flights of stone steps, and through a maze of countless corridors, which led to the catacombs. Along the way they passed masked death eaters who bowed low as Draco and Voldemort brushed them aside.
Finally, they came to a large steel enforced black oak door. With a flick of his wand, the door swung open and Voldemort stepped through. Draco followed him without hesitation. Cells upon cells tunnelled down the passage as far as he could see. Screams, moans, pleas and cries could be heard from every direction and the stench of human waste was almost intolerable. Voldemort continued to walk down the long corridor of cells until they reached another black door which led into an empty amphitheatre with a high chair on a platform to one side. Draco's stomach churned at the sight of human skulls and bones that littered the floor.
For five months, day after day, Draco dwelt deep within the dungeons, training, practising - all to a sharp perfection and under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord himself. It was there in the amphitheatre of death that Draco learnt the darkest ways of the most evil and ancient Dark Magic - by the most evil and dark wizard.
One night after all the death eaters had eaten at the grand table in the Throne Room, Draco was summoned from his chambers.
"Milord," Draco bowed.
"Aah, Drakkus," Voldemort hissed. His mouth twisted into something that would almost resemble a smile. "Are you ready to bear my legacy?"
"It would be my greatest honour, My Lord," Draco said calmly and inclined his head slightly.
Voldemort laughed. "Then tomorrow we shall celebrate your graduation! Take leave young Drakkus, Voldemort will summon you."
Draco's blood ran cold in his veins but he kept his posture calm and regal as he stood before his dark master, he knew not to ask questions despite the fact he already knew the answer.