Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters were created by JK Rowling and are copyrighted to their rightful owners. There is no copyright infringement intended by this fanfiction.
Rated R for violence and adult themes.
FROM THE AUTHOR OF "PENANCE," "FALLING ANGELS," "THE DEED," AND "WAKE THE DARKNESS"
Darkness draped over him like black velvet, blotting out any trace of light and muffling any sound that might reach his ears. This was the part he hated most. The complete darkness, the loneliness. Without a flicker of light, without a glimmer of hope. The Dark Lord knew this. Knew his fear of the dark. Knew what it did to him. Counted on the cold, empty shell it rendered him into.
The waiting wasn't the worst part. It was the knowing. The pressing knowledge that light lurked just a few feet away. That just a bit off in the distance the others were laughing and joking and taking for granted the glowing torches. The waiting agonized him worse than any curse the Dark Lord could cast on him. Alone in the dark, without a wand and completely unable to see anything around him... this was worse than the cruciatus curse.
WAR HAS DESCENDED OVER THE WIZARDING WORLLD
Green light exploded in the Great Hall, and for a second all movement stopped. All eyes focused on Neville, sweet, little, incompetent Neville, who had just cast the killing curse. Bellatrix Lestrange's crumpled body lay on the floor at his feet. Her husband, just a few steps away, turned red with fury. He raised his wand, his eyes wild.
"Expelliarmus!" Lavendar shrieks, her own wand pointed at Lestrange's chest.
His wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor, rolling under a side board.
Neville's wand is raised again; any trace of astonishment over his first kill is gone.
"Avada Kedavra," he whispers in reverent awe. Green light shoots out of the end of his wand and hits Lestrange.
Around the room the other Death Eaters just stare. Neville's own classmates, his professors, members of the Ministry, they all gape in silence.
FRIENDSHIPS HAVE BEEN STRAINED
"Harry, listen to me," she pleads. "Don't go after them alone! Wait for Mad Eye, or - or Lupin."
He turns to stare at her, his eyes empty. "Either come with me, or get the hell out of my way, Hermione."
"Harry, you need to think about this for a minute. Why would Voldemort attack here, at the Order's headquarters, and take Ron? Why would they pass over files, and go for Ron?"
"Because they know what he means to me!"
She hates to do this, but he's left her no other option. She takes a deep breath. "Remember what happened last time you just rushed off alone. Think about what happened to Sirius!"
He looks at her like she's a stranger, like he hasn't known her for seven long years. "They have Ron," he says calmly, too calmly. Harry does not become calm when he gets angry, she thinks, he becomes explosive. He continues, "They have the only thing I even care about anymore. I will get him back or die trying."
His hand is on the door knob when she calls, "You're not being rational, Harry! You have to know that he went willingly, Harry," she whispers. "You have to know."
NEW ALLIANCES HAVE BEEN FORMED
"It's quite simple," he says with a sneer. "The Dark Lord will not win this war, Potter will defeat him. When he does, I don't intend to see my entire bloodline and fortune go to waste."
"So this is a matter of looking out for your own best interest." Her distaste for him, for everything he stands for, is evident in her voice.
His eyes rake over her. "I suspect even a Gryffindor such as you can understand the need for survival."
She bares her teeth in what manages to pass as a smile. "It's nice to know that when things are looking grim a Slytherin will chew his own arm off."
Annoyance flashes across his face. "Look, Johnson, I'm not asking you to be my best friend, I'm asking you to negotiate a deal between myself and Dumbledore."
"And what, exactly, Montague, would this deal entail?"
He relaxed against his chair, as if he had actually worried for a second that she would refuse him. "For as long as it takes Potter to kill the Dark Lord, I will feed the Ministry what I learn. In exchange for my valuable information, I will be exempt from trial for any charges that might be brought against me."
"How perfectly Slytherin of you," she purred. "First a traitor to humanity and now a traitor to your master."
LORD VOLDEMORT IS A HIS MOST POWERFUL
The Dark Lord looked around the clearing. His Death Eaters were enjoying themselves under the light of the dark mark that burned brightly in the sky. The older followers, the ones left over from the last war, laughed merrily as they tortured several muggles.
The Dark Lord curled his lip in a mixed feeling of pleasure and disgust at the sight of a child's arm littering the ground close to his throne. The child to whom the limb had once belonged was long dead. Its lifeless body had been thrown into the thick cluster of trees on the edge of the meadow. The child's eyes were open, staring off into space even as blood continued to trickle from the wounds that covered its body.
The Death Eaters were contenting themselves to afflict similar torture on the child's parents. Its siblings, a boy old enough to be a man, but forever trapped with the mentality of a child, and a girl of teenage years, were surrounded by the younger Death Eaters.
Newly inducted into Voldemort's legion, the youngsters were mastering spells and curses that hadn't been taught to them in the schools they had attended. Tom watched as young Zambini cast the imperius curse perfectly on the child's sister. In another circle, other young Death Eaters took turns casting illegal stunning charms.
Surveying his followers with something akin to pride, Tom smiled. For the first time in many long years he felt as though things were going exactly according to his plans.
BUT THERE IS AN ENEMY OUT THERE
He laid in the dark, feeling like he was floating through space. There was nothing around him but eternity, stretching outward toward oblivion.
Days had probably ticked by, though for all he knew it had only been hours since the other Death Eaters had deposited him here.
Hovering on the brink of madness and eternity, he never felt so close to his magic, his power. Never felt so close to being a god.
Alone with only his thoughts for company, and only the force of his will and magic sustaining him, raw magic rushed at him from across the chasm he drifted across. Generations of Malfoy, centuries of power, welled up inside of him. A power base to be reckoned with.
He knew why the Dark Lord left him in here, of course. Sometimes it was as punishment for his father's betrayal, or for Draco's own impertinent tongue. But most times it was to build that power. Power the Dark Lord lusted after but could never have because of his mudblood breeding.
STRONGER THAN ANYONE HAS SUSPECTED
When Avery came to let him out, there were blood strains covering his black robes. The older man's face was lighted with glee as he quietly murmured the words to drop the wards around the damp room and allow Draco back into the real world.
Like all the other times, Draco contemplated lashing out at the other man. After two days in that darkness Draco didn't need a wand to focus his magic to cast the killing curse.
But like all the other times, he didn't. He knew, of course, why he didn't do this.
This was careful planning and calculating.
Working as the Dark Lord's personal weapon, this was biding his time until it was the right moment to strike.
This was revenge.
This was atonement for letting his father die.
AND IT IS YOUR FRIENDS THAT YOU MUST FEAR
"I won't let you do this, Hermione," Harry said, pulling out his wand.
"You can't stop me."
"I will kill you before I let you betray me to Malfoy," he threatened, stepping closer to her.
"If Draco takes Voldemort's place there will be no stopping him. Unlike with Voldemort, you have no special connection with Malfoy that will give you any kind of advantage."
Harry lowered his wand, staring at Hermione suspiciously. "Just what are you planning?"
"You've already proven with Voldemort that the best way to topple your enemy is from within."
THE END IS NEAR
Harry stared at Voldemort, taking a moment to absorb the scene before him. Gripping his wand tightly, Harry's entire body shook.
Tom Riddle was dead. For good this time.
All the years, all the death… it was over. With two words and a flash of green, it was over.
Harry absently touched the scar on his forehead. There was no pain. There was nothing but skin made slick by sweat.
Harry took a deep breath and turned around, stepping over Ron's body.
He stepped into the Great Hall and froze.
Draco Malfoy had Hermione pinned against him, his wand pressing against her throat.
IT JUST ISN'T WHAT EVERYONE WAS EXPECTING
"Malfoy?" she asked, peering into the dark corner of the abandoned Great Hall. "What are you doing here?"
He stepped into the circle of weak light cast by the glowing candles that danced above the long tables. His black school robes were open, revealing dark trousers and a white shirt. She couldn't see his hands. For a second she sent a silent prayer to God that he wasn't gripping his wand, even as her hand automatically tightened around her own.
"I came to see you," he replied, his voice a silkily whisper in the dim light.
"Why?"
"You need to kill me," he announced, like it was a weather forecast and not an insane request.
"I'm not going to kill you," she said.
"You have to," came his answer. "You have to kill me now before I destroy you."
Strangely calm, Hermione twirled in a slow circle, tracking him as he moved around her. Overcome by curiosity, she asked, "Why do you care if you destroy me?"
"Because then there'll be no one to stop me."
"What if I don't want to stop you?"
"Then my plan is already complete."
...ASCENSION...
"When all of this is over, do you promise to kill me?"
Author's Note:
The style I used for writing this is an imitation of the format Lord Chaos (from the Sailor Moon fandom) uses when he's introducing a new fanfic. I rather love the format and thought I'd try my hand at it.
As it is, I don't know what I plan to do with this little ficlet. My current thinking is to just leave it alone as a drabble. If you'd like to see me develop it into something more, please drop a review and let me know. Even if you think it's fine the way it is, leave a review anyway.
Jewel
(4.5.2005)