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Your Heart On The Line	By : alwayshalfblood Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 4665 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I don't make any profit of any kind for writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Tremble
- 2-Holding Onto Yourself
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Draco didn’t remember it being so drafty down here, but of course, he only ever came here to fetch his father up to dinner when he was younger. He never questioned what had been going on down in the dungeons when he called out to his mother’s message and made a hasty retreat here but when Voldemort tapped his wand in an intricate design on the brickwork similar to the entrance of Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron, he felt a wave of nausea crash into him.

Chains covered the walls; he could see wrist and ankle shackles and more sinister neck collars barely protruding from the stone. He imagined his father in front of chained and screaming muggles, cutting them, torturing them, and for what? With the Dark Lord gone he had no reason for doing it…except he enjoyed it. He wasn’t sure if the dark stains on the floors were really there or just a trick of the torch light. It was better he didn’t know he thought, steeling himself from all emotion for the rest of this night.

“I assume you’ve been wondering why you’re joining us so young, Draco. It certainly isn’t because your father proved himself to be invaluable. It’s just you’re just young enough no one will expect you to be doing anything quite like what we have in mind. You’ll never be suspected if you’re careful. Your aunt has taught you all the right tools, and Severus has told me about your talents at school. You’re an advanced potion maker, a strong dueler, and good in both understanding charmwork and performing it. Use all of those at the task I have for you and I’m certain you’ll succeed,” Voldemort was walking around the room while he spoke, peering at vials and bottles with peeling labels, fingering the chains causing them to rattle lightly. “When you do this, you’ll have the highest place among our ranks, Draco. You’ll stand proud and wear your mark as an honor not a burden as your father does. When you do this, your name will be known for years to come. You’re to kill Albus Dumbledore.”

Draco almost fainted but he knew what such weakness would get him later, he wouldn’t be able to walk for days after his aunt got through with him. But bloody hell, how did he expect him to pull this sort of thing off? He was crazy, completely off his rocker. If the world’s darkest wizard couldn’t kill the old man how was he -a mere child- supposed to succeed? “You want me to… kill my headmaster? When? After graduation?” Draco knew the answer before the questions even finished falling from his lips but he couldn’t stop, there had to be a different way.

“You’re to complete your assignment before the end of the year. Find a way to get the death eaters into your castle to assist you and you’ll succeed. That’s the place you need to start. Any other ideas you have to rid us of Dumbledore of course can be attempted but be careful and don’t get yourself caught. You’ll be no use to us then.” Voldemort was staring him in the eye and Draco shuddered when the red slits met his own deep grey. How was it possible to even be alive looking the way he did?

“Okay. I accept, master.” Draco said and bowed low, kissing Voldemort’s robes.

“Excellent, Draco. Before you get your mark though, you need to do one thing to prove yourself worthy.” With a swish of his wand, a woman appeared bound in ropes and sobbing. Her navy dress robes proved she wasn’t a muggle and Draco wondered in the back of his mind if he’d ever seen her before. Either way she wouldn’t leave the room alive, no one could know Draco was meeting with the Dark Lord so intimately. “Kill her.”

Draco picked up his wand and murmured a cutting spell releasing the witch from her binds, and Bellatrix moved forward to punish him for embarrassing her in front of her master but Voldemort held her back, curious as to what Draco was doing. “Imperio,” he said and the witch gazed up at him looking for further instruction and in his mind Draco told her to pull out her wand. She obeyed and turned it towards herself.

“Avada Kedavra!” The witch had turned her own wand on herself and permormed the killing curse with no hesitation. Even in the grim light of this situation Draco was impressed with himself.

Voldemort laughed cruelly and clapped Draco on the back, “You may make up for your fathers disappointments after all, your creativity in torture is something I’ve never seen before. Most people are too excited to think much during.”

Draco was unsure if this was a compliment from the Dark Lord, hadn’t his aunt been telling him all summer Voldemort praises no one? “Thank you sir, I only wish you please you.” He kneeled down again and brushed his lips along the bottom hem of the black robes.

Voldemort nodded before speaking again, “Bellatrix, did you bring the knife?”

“Yes, my lord, I have it right here.” She conjured up a pure silver box, and Draco admired the detailed carvings around it. Emerald snakes were glinting up at him, their eyes almost seemed alive.

“Draco, now that you’ve proved ready to kill you’re ready to receive the mark. I’m now going to restrain your arm so you can’t move while I carve the design into your arm. Come sit here.” Voldemort seemed to be getting excited now and Draco didn’t want to make this any worse than it had to be.

He walked over to a small bench in a corner of the room and sat down with his left arm towards Voldemort.

Thin ropes came out of Bellatrix’s wand and tied his arm down to the bench’s armrest and when he tried to move it the ropes held it fast. He waited for any indication of what to do next.

“Let us begin then, Draco.’ Vodemort hissed in his ear and pulled out a small silver knife out of the box and brought it down to Draco’s skin.

He bit down so hard on his lip when the silver first met his flesh, and he wondered how he’d ever thought this would be easy to sit through. Not only was the knife cutting through his skin as if he were made out of thin air, but everywhere it touched seemed to be on fire. He thought back to what he’d seen of these marks and almost laughed when he realized what was happening. The knife was making the outline of the design and when it was connected the burning would knit together forming branded tissue and turning it black.

He felt his own blood running in rivers down the back of his throat and never blinked his eyes, not wanting to cry right now because he knew if he started he’d never be able to stop and there was only so much weakness the Dark Lord could handle.

Soon the burning started to slow, and after a few more minutes it seemed to stop all at once. “You did well enough, Mr. Malfoy. I’ve never seen someone sit so still before, but you still didn’t manage to stop feeling all emotions if I can tell by your bottom lip…” Draco was looking down at his forearm, admiring in grim interest what was there now, and almost missed the cold graze of his mouth. He looked up to see Voldemort’s fingers bright red with blood and shook when Voldemort brought his blood to his mouth and tasted it. “Very nice, just a perfect amount of fear, adrenaline, discipline, respect, and a thirst to prove yourself. You’ll do just fine. Now, if your aunt will untie you, the two of us have some business to attend to and you may go. Get some rest and start your planning. You need as much time as you can get.”

Draco turned towards his aunt who he was shocked to see glaring at him, how had he disappointed her now? He hadn’t cried out at all, he was still able to form complete sentences. Bloody hell, the only thing he’d done was give himself a bloody lip. ‘Of course,’ he thought ‘she’s just jealous of the way he tasted my blood.’ He gave up trying to please her for the rest of the day, and headed up to his room.

While laying in a ball curled underneath his silken sheets he had his left forearm stretched out in front of him, and was admiring his new artwork. How was it something so beautifully designed with so many little beautiful details could cause such widespread panic and destruction? He hoped he could figure out some sort of plan to pull this off, he couldn’t bear to be another disappointment in his mother’s life.
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Your Heart On The Line