Chapter 6: To Follow An Order
Draco apparated into a dark hallway and he instantly knew that he had never been there before. The hallway was dark and deserted to both his left and right, dust dancing in the air in the few places where light pierced the darkness, revealing the decay of what had once been majestic and beautiful.
There was a large door made of old oak in one of the walls, a mere two metres away from him. He looked around but saw no other doors nearby so he carefully put his hand on the handle, feeling the resistance as the rusty, old metal moved.
The room he stepped into was an old library, there were shelves on every wall, filled with what had to be thousands of books, their backs darkened from the passing of time, their titles faded away and unreadable.
The fireplace in the library was cold and empty; there hadn't been a fire in it for many years. The tables and armchairs were covered with a layer of dust, confirming that this room hadn't been used for a long time.
It was incredibly cold in the room and Draco shivered involuntarily. He heard the sound of wind, howling around the mansion with that characteristic tune. Stepping up to the window, he looked down on a coastline, waves breaking on gigantic cliffs and foam squirting high in the air.
"The Irish Sea." Said a hissing voice behind him.
"Mylord." Draco turned around acknowledging him with a little bow of his head, feeling a cold shiver running down his spine.
Black robes were tangling around Voldemort's meagre body, only his bony white hand showing. His red eyes showed that impassionate look that only cold-blooded animals have - those that hide in sand or under stones.
"You did well on your last mission and even Bellatrix was surprised. She thought she would have another kill that night…" he laughed, his laugh sounding like fingernails scratching a blackboard.
"We will start an offensive soon. You are a promising young man and you will have plenty of opportunities to prove yourself and gain respect among us. You will work with Bellatrix more often now; she's good influence…" the Dark Lord hissed in a commanding tone that allowed no rejection. "Never forget who is your master, boy, and you will be rewarded richly. Forget and you will be wiped out completely with no one to remember you even existed."
Draco nodded silently, having heard such warnings many times before from Lucius. No doubt it was true though, nobody would remember him because nobody cared for him.
He would be gone, just one of many who had disappeared, condemned forever, a hated name following him even to his grave.
"There's something I want you to do, something else than just take part in the offensive. I will have a meeting where I will inform you and everybody else about that, but tonight I have come to tell you about something else. I want you to find out as much as you can about the Order of the Phoenix and its members. Find out their identities, study their habits and their weaknesses. Be stealthy and patient but find something!"
With that the Dark Lord apparated away.
Draco sat down slowly in one of the heavy armchairs; dust rising as he absently drew patterns on the blood-red velvet.
The offensive would start, marking the beginning of the war. But if he thought about it, in truth it had long started. The attacks of the last weeks had been foreshadowing what was to come.
He knew nothing about the Order of the Phoenix, apart from some small rumours he had once heard.
The name was spoken in hushed whispers among the Death Eaters, especially those that had lived through the first uprising all those years ago. Albus Dumbledore was whispered in the same breath, but that was only logical.
Who else would form an order to oppose the Dark Lord?
Potter might be a member, too, making this a rather dangerous search.
Snape had always been Voldemort's eyes and ears inside the gates of Hogwarts, sending information from their bastion of light. What had changed for the Dark Lord to ask him to do something that Snape could have accomplished much easier?
Snape had to know about the Order, that fool Dumbledore wouldn't keep him at Hogwarts if he didn't trust him. And who knew, he possibly had a reason to trust him.
Likewise, the Dark Lord never did anything without a reason. It was either Snape or him that the Dark Lord distrusted more than usual, maybe even questioning their loyalty. There had to be a bigger picture that Draco couldn't yet see, some purpose behind his request.
He had said things about Draco being promising, but Draco knew words didn't mean anything. All that mattered in the end was whether he was useful or not. He would have to show him that he could be useful, a servant who did what he was ordered to do.
This was a test that he couldn't afford to fail.
Of course the easiest way to find out anything would be to go and pretend he wanted to join, but nobody would be mad enough to believe him or to trust him. All they would have to do was look at his arm and they would see something he would never be able to explain.
He would have to watch them from the outside, carefully following every move they made.
~~~************~~~
Draco woke up early the next morning after a night of restless sleep which had caused him to turn on the light three times because each time he had been sure that the rotten corpse of his dead mother was standing beside the bed, hovering above him. Only her eyes had been shining like they once had, when she was still alive, so full of accusation, so full of disappointment.
Never had he seen anything once the light was on, but he was tired of being in the dark room, so he got up at the first light of dawn.
He decided that an early morning walk in the grounds would be a good idea to get the remains of last night out of his head and help him to think clearly about what was to come in the next couple of weeks.
After taking a shower he walked out onto the fields surrounding the manor, wrapping his dark-green cloak tightly around his body to shield himself from the cold.
It was a misty morning and the sun hadn't yet managed to break through the fog, which was surrounding him as he walked, muffling the sound of his steps on the grass.
Maybe the girl knew about the Order. Her brother was Potter's sidekick after all and they were devoted fans of Dumbledore. He would make her talk and make her surrender all information she held about them.
A cool wind rustled his cloak, just as the first rays of sunlight broke through the fog and the birds started to sing. For a brief moment he thought he heard the faint cries of a baby but he knew it was only in his mind. The baby was dead, it would never cry again.
Once again he saw how the blade dug deep into its small body, the blood splashing against the little ferries that were painted on the ceiling above, as its heartbeat stopped. He saw how life left those little eyes until they broke. The dark colour of the blood against the light-blue bed sheets and rompers that soaked it up like a sponge soaking up water.
Despite all the madness they had remembered what had happened to Voldemort and had used a knife.
The wind played with Draco's blond hair, as he knelt by the little lake and carefully moved his hand through the cool water.
This wasn't the time to dwell on such things. The child was probably better off dead anyway, at least it had been fast. More than you could say for some, he thought, getting up and turning to walk back to the manor.
~~~************~~~
Ginny was sitting on her bed, staring into the magical light that emitted a soft glow that barely lightened the room.
She had been brought into a new cell while she had been asleep; she could tell that much, and this cell was different from the other. There was a bed, a clean soft bed and the rest of the room was clean, too.
Clean but empty, she thought bitterly. There was nothing apart from the bed and chains that were fixed to one of the walls.
This was just as much a torture chamber as the other cell, she thought as tears welled up in her eyes, and despite being clean now, she was just as much a victim as before. The only person she ever saw was the person who caused her all the pain and yet it was her only link to humanity.
And now she had tempted him to enter into a game that she had chosen. She had tried to lure him into her bed, something that he hadn't even hinted at until that point. She would have her first time with someone she hated for all he was, all he represented and mostly for all that he did to her.
But didn't they say that love was pain?
Maybe it was true since pain was the only thing that lived on in the darkness, searing and blinding even through the dark, while the faces of her family slowly faded away.
She tried to remember their faces but they always seemed to remain just out of reach, she was unable to grasp them and the memories slipped away like sand running through her fingers. Memories of happy days at Hogwarts faded to grey, it had been a different life back then, a different life that seemed so long gone and forever passed away.
Nothing was left in her life to remind her of the things that had once formed her, of the things that had once motivated her. She had found new motivations in the face of darkness and death but would they last? Or would they slip away into nothingness like the rest?
It was on her to make it count, it was on her to find a reminder. The pain would always remind her, piercing through the darkness like fire shining through an endless night. She would be ready.
And when the door to her cell opened hours later, she was ready.
He stood in the doorway, his blond hair and grey eyes gleaming in the soft light, looking almost angelic. So cold, so distant, caught up in his own darkness.
He closed the door behind him, leaning against it, letting his gaze slowly wander over her. His toy was pretty when she was washed and dressed properly; he had always had pretty toys.
Ginny got up from the bed, closing the gap between them with a few steps, her eyes cold but determined.
In the dim light of the cell they were only visible as a shadow gleaming icy-blond and red. Fire and ice. But underneath there was already a lot more ice than fire.
Ginny raised her head to look into his eyes and they were impassionate as always. He wouldn't make the first move, she understood that. He didn't care about her in any way, not even in a sexual way. She would have to prove to him that it was worth it, that she had something to offer that was of interest to him.
Moving forward without letting go of his gaze, she let her lips touch his for the second time in two days. His lips were soft but cold, just like the rest of his outer appearance, which was so incredibly deceptive and true at the same time.
There was nothing soft about the way his hand shot forward and gripped her throat, blocking any air from reaching her lungs, as he kissed her back hard and forcefully.
Ginny felt dizziness rising within her as she desperately struggled for air and her knees felt weaker each second, making her stumble against him. She gripped his arm and tried to push it back but her efforts were in vain.
He let go just as she was on the edge of unconsciousness and she flung her hands around his neck to hold on to him, leaning against him heavily. Tears ran down her cheeks as she held on to the only thing that supported her.
He softly wiped away the tears and held her, his hand caressing her back. She buried her face in his chest and he tenderly put his hand under her chin and made her look up. He kissed her tear-stricken cheeks ever so slowly, moving down to her lips, which opened up slightly as their lips touched.
She felt warm and soft, leaning against him and the images of the past days finally left Draco's mind as the kiss lingered on, deepening as their tongues caressed each other softly, weaving a pattern that they would get to know well over time.
Her breasts were soft and round against his chest and his hand wandered into her shirt, feeling her heart beat like it was going to jump out of her chest at any second.
Her shirt dropped to the ground, leaving her physically and emotionally exposed as he had effectively demonstrated his power over her.
His clothes joined hers on the floor and he shoved her back hard, making her fall back onto the bed, her head banging against the wall with a loud crack and she winced as first blood stained the sheets.
His eyes were ablaze with an inner fire as he lay down on top of her, his mind torn between wanting to kill her and wanting to love her. He would have neither.
Their hands linked above their heads and as he entered her, second blood stained the sheets.
A ripping pain soured through her and pleasure and pain bonded as they started to move in rhythm.
Ginny threw her head back and licked her lips, her whole body feeling as if flames danced over it, burning her up and consuming her.
What would her parents say, her brothers, all her friends if they could see her now? They would think that she had dirtied herself and how low she had stooped.
She moaned softly and the tears flowed again as they moved towards the climax.
How would she look them in the eye if she ever saw them again? Would they know?
She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails leaving bloody marks on his back and she held on to him, at that moment not wanting to ever let go and slip back into the emptiness. The blackness was inside them and all around them but right now she wasn't alone, he was with her, his darkness mingling with hers.
Draco sucked his breath in sharply as her fingernails ripped his flesh, warm blood running down his back. She was intoxicating, his senses in complete turmoil, coherent thoughts fleeing his mind with every move they made. He felt the fire of passion melting the ice and for the glimpse of a moment he was who had once been.
He caressed her hair and whispered sweet nothings into her ear as they came and Ginny let out a hoarse scream. They collapsed on the bed, exhausted and tired.
A few seconds later, Draco got up and dressed, leaving the cell without looking back.
Ginny was lying on the bed, blood on her inner thighs and in her hair. She closed her eyes, mentally and physically drained. She had encouraged this, it had been her doing. She had always imagined her first time being with someone loving and caring, not with someone so cold and removed.
Never had she thought of it as a demonstration of power, intertwined with a fiery passion and burning pain.
But she had made him bleed. It had been worth it after all.
~~~************~~~
Several hours later, he was back.
Ginny looked up and smirked, obviously she must have made an impression.
"You want more."
If possible his eyes turned even colder as he spoke.
"You have no idea."
The sneer on his face made Ginny cringe inwardly and she drew back slightly as he came nearer.
"The Order, tell me about the Order of the Phoenix."
Ginny gasped and a feeling of dread filled her as he continued.
"If I don't know where their headquarter is when I walk out of this room, I'll just go to a certain place we both know and question the people that live there. I'm sure your family is in the Order anyway. Of course questioning wouldn't be the end of it…" he trailed off, his voice full of false sweetness.
He arched an eyebrow and slowly pulled the dagger out of his pocket, his wand already in the other hand.
"I'll never tell you, I would never betray them!" Ginny screamed, her panicked gaze fixed on the dagger.
"You will tell me. It's only a matter of time and suffering."
A move of his wand and Ginny slammed into the wall, letting out a small cry of pain, her eyes shining with fear and the will that she wouldn't surrender.
It actually took him several days to find out everything she knew about the Order and he was surprised how determined she was to resist. But nobody would have stood a chance, let alone a young girl.
He looked at her crumpled form on the floor and thought of the lust and passion that they had felt before, kneeling down beside her.
It was a shame that she had got in the way, but he had to follow the Dark Lord's orders. The path he had chosen wasn't one that you abandoned if you wanted to live. The Dark Lord wasn't someone who cared what you really wanted deep, deep down.
Draco carefully touched her bruised cheek and caressed her hair. She rested her head in his lap and sobbed, defeated for now.
"You know, it would all be easier and less painful if you cooperated, Ginny."
~~~************~~~
A couple of weeks later Draco stood in front of 12 Grimmauld Place, looking at a shabby house that he couldn't imagine any ancestor of his ever living in. This wasn't what he had expected the ancestral home of the House of Black to look like.
Something wasn't right here, he thought, as the oddity of that notion occurred to him. He shouldn't be able to see it in the first place, the girl had told him about the Fidelius charm. She wasn't the secret keeper though, so the visibility of it could only mean one thing: the charm had been lifted.
The house was clearly visible under the full moon and it seemed even more derelict in the silvery light.
Draco's feeling of uneasiness increased and he felt the hair on his neck tingle. He pulled his invisibility cloak tighter around him and looked around tentatively, but saw no one. The feeling that he was being watched didn't cease though as he stepped up to the front door slowly, stepping over litter that filled the front yard.
The whole place appeared dark and empty, forsaken, the door hanging broken inside its frame. The house seemed abandoned, the Order had probably given up on it, maybe even because of the girl's disappearance.
This could be a trap, Draco thought, becoming increasingly worried, cursing himself for not bringing someone like Bellatrix along.
The street was quiet, but he hesitated to go into the house. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave anything of value, but then again, they might have been in a rush. The Dark Lord would interpret it as cowardice or, even worse, as disobedience if he didn't check the house closer, after all he wasn't known for his empathy.
Either way Draco might lose, but with the Dark Lord he certainly would.
Draco carefully moved one of the door pieces and, after one last look around, crossed the threshold, a weird feeling at the back of his mind.
The darkness was impenetrable and he attempted to move the door pieces back together, trying hard to avoid the screechy sound as the rusty door angles moved, before he softly whispered "Lumos."
Shielding the light with his body, he looked around the hallway, taking in the peeling wallpaper and the broken remains of furniture, covered by dust. Some trashed wooden furniture, that was all.
He took a few steps towards the stairs, dust flying up and tingling in his nose, making him sneeze lightly. His wand only gave some light, leaving most of the room in shadow.
There.
He stopped dead in his track.
A rustling sound.
Maybe the house wasn't as empty as it had looked from the outside. He listened really hard but couldn't hear anything now, maybe it had just been his imagination. Hopefully.
He looked around himself incessantly, clutching his wand tighter.
Who knew what was in this house?
A cracking sound behind him caused him to spin around instantly, pointing his wand at the source of danger. The two halves of the door had been rattling, moved by the wind, pushing against each other.
He backed away from the door until he suddenly bumped into something hard, with some effort restraining himself from spinning on his heel.
The stairway. He had backed up until he hit the stairway.
He cursed himself for being so jumpy, when he was usually such a cool and controlled person. But somehow his fear of something jumping out of the shadows and attacking him only gripped his heart stronger as he carefully stepped up the stairs, trying to make no noise; desperate to avoid anything that might draw attention to him.
His hand was trembling when he wiped cold sweat of his forehead, feeling the damp strands of hair on his temple. He had to get a grip, this irrational fear was ridiculous, he'd never get anywhere like this.
He reached the upper floors, but found nothing there either. Everything was deathly silent, and he thought that anybody had to be able to hear his heartbeat in the silence.
He stood at the upper end of the stairs when he first heard the sound. A howling, many voices joined together in one painful scream that grew louder each second.
Draco looked around frantically searching the darkness but the light of his wand didn't seem to penetrate the blackness that grew thicker every moment and he clutched his wand painfully. He stood frozen, even trying to hold his breath, not daring to move. Maybe if he was really still, they wouldn't find him, they wouldn't come to get him.
Then he heard the voice over the howling that had grown so loud that it pained his ears, sending shivers down his spine.
"We know you are there…" it said, barely a whisper among the ear-splitting howling, but so much more terrifying than all the cries from the tortured souls.
"You belong with us, in the darkness, where the pain is blinding and the blood is boiling, forever and ever…"
A strangled cry escaped Draco's throat and brought him back to the present, back to action. He blindly stumbled down the stairs, in a haste to get out of this hellhole as fast as possible. Panic washed away all coherent thought as he turned to flee from the darkness and the voices that had come to claim him.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and stumbled over something in the darkness, tumbling to the ground and cutting his hands on a sharp hard object, blood running down from the cuts. He tried to get up and run, but felt something at his leg, holding him down.
He struggled desperately, kicking back viciously, hitting something hard. It didn't falter though, didn't let go of his leg, trapping him on the ground.
They were coming for him, coming to draw him into their hell, sucking his soul from his body, to leave him imprisoned for all eternity.
Then he abruptly realized that the noise was gone, replaced by something else.
Voices. He heard voices, people speaking. And suddenly the fear was gone; leaving him on the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place in a darkness that didn't seem impenetrable any longer. His heart was beating like it was going to jump out of his chest at any minute and his breathing was flat and rushed but he was unharmed.
Then he saw the sources of the talking through the door pieces, outside in the moonlight. They were aurors and he sucked his breath in sharply at the realization.
He wasn't going mad, at least not as much as him hearing voices might suggest. They must have placed some sort of fear spell on this place, he thought with a sense of relief. Or maybe they just had a dementor nearby; ready to take care of anybody they caught in their trap.
All relief left him; he knew what kind of position he had put himself into.
Draco felt something sharp against his left leg; he had simply caught his foot on some piece of furniture in his rush to leave the house. He removed it carefully, cursing inwardly as he felt a jab of pain shooting through his leg. Not being able to walk would be a death sentence in this situation.
"There must be somebody inside the house, the wards went off, we didn't see anybody though." Whispered a voice outside. "I hope it's one of those bastards, it's about time we got a hold of one of them."
"Remember - don't kill him. For now we need a prisoner."
Draco drew his invisibility cloak around him and made a move to apparate.
Nothing happened.
He couldn't apparate out of the house; panic gripped him again, as he stepped back to the wall behind him.
He was invisible, but he felt more and more like a deer caught in the headlights. He stared at the broken door and what he saw only increased that feeling.
Several aurors were closing in on the house accompanied by Dumbledore and some others that Draco didn't recognize in the darkness. Probably members of his Order, he thought, shuddering at the thought.
It would all be over if they caught him, he would go to Azkaban or worse, if they found out he was in on the Diggory attack he might well receive the Dementor's kiss…
They all had him written out as the bad guy who surely didn't deserve anything else anyway and nothing he could say to them would ever change that. Especially now, after all that had happened.
A sense of dread rose in him, as he realized what that meant. He would have to fight it out or die, there was no way he could ever allow himself to be arrested by them, let alone be caught red-handed. And there was quite a chance he might not make it out of here alive.
Scared but determined, he moved into a dark corner beside the stairway, from which he would have a pretty good chance to make it to the door. If he could just get out of the house, he would be able to apparate to safety.
His hand shook as he raised his wand, grabbing a piece of wood with his other hand. What had just been a few seconds, seemed like an eternity until they were finally at the door.
The first aurors entered the house silently, their wands drawn, their faces grim and eager. Eager to curse some Death Eater into oblivion, he thought. More precisely, to curse him into oblivion.
Most of the men had moved into the house by then, spreading out. Draco tried to breathe as shallow as possible, afraid even the slightest sound would betray where he was. One of the men started to move towards him and Draco knew he couldn't wait until they were all inside. It was now or never.
He flung the piece of wood upwards and threw it back, high above his head. It clattered onto the first floor with a loud banging noise. The men gave a start and whipped around, moving in towards the stairs, as Draco threw himself towards the door, his wand raised, releasing its energy in a mighty green flash as he shouted
"Avada Kedavra."
Then there was shouting and screaming all around, hexes hurling around the room, a body hitting the floor with a loud thump.
The few metres to the door seemed like an eternity, Draco's injured leg hurting with every step, every jump over the litter on the ground.
He hit the door hard, the sheer force of his moving body knocking apart the pieces, one crashing to the ground with a bang, metal hitting his injured leg which gave away and caused him to stumble forward uncontrollably.
Behind him a high voice screamed something and suddenly there was a stinging pain in his back, causing him to scream out loud, as the smell of burning flesh filled his nose. The pain was unbelievably, his back had to be burning up, something ripping the skin of him, and tearing deeper with every second the spell lasted.
He apparated away, as his consciousness slowly faded away, pouring his last strength into that one most important spell.
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