Chapter 24 A uniquely Advantageous Position September
4th, 1998 Malfoy Manor The world twisted around Theo as he as his
companion disapparated their movements creating a macabre,
ghostly scream that echoed in the air as they spun together.
Theo would have given anything to avoid this intrusion, but
with Draco still unconscious days after the harrowing dark
ritual, he saw no other option. Fortunately, he had managed to
send word to Narcissa, who had been operating home each evening
after classes, to lower the wards for their arrival.
He imagined the Dark Lord wouldn't take kindly to being
held at the gates. A queasy feeling washed over him
as they materialized in the foyer, unharmed and not
immediately blasted back by the wards.
The Dark Lord drew a rasping breath as he landed,
disentangling himself from Theo. It seemed whatever dark magic he
had been using to reconstitute himself could only stretch so
far. The translucence of his thin
skin revealed every swampy green vein coursing along his visage.
Even this single apparition had drained him, despite the shared
magic between them. Hopefully the journey home will
do him in, Theo hoped sardonically.
Voldemort's presence here broke the cease-fire agreement, but
what the Order didn't know couldn't hurt them, though it
could very well end up hurting Hermione.
Theo hoped that he'd made the right call, not that he saw many
other options. He imagined it playing out now.
Oh no, Great Snake Lord, you cannot come to the Manor.
No, no, Theo didn't think that would go down particularly well.
Theo had been the one to carry his friend home from the
Welcoming Feast, with Narcisa and Hermione trailing behind him
like a funeral procession, their anxious faces reflecting the
solemnity of the moment. Shaken students and teachers
looked on, marking him as a closer ally to the Dark
Commander than they had previously acknowledged.
Things were unraveling, and Theo felt himself losing hope as he
struggled to follow the threads weaving together in chaos.
The Death Eaters were splintering.
Voldemort's display had undeniably forced those sitting
on the fence to make a side. Meanwhile, the Order remained
eerily silent, undoubtedly lying in wait.
To complicate matters, if his calculations were correct,
Hermione had returned from a future not far from their own
timeline, yet she bore no memories of the reasons behind
her return. Worse still, the one person they
all relied upon to hold them together to guide their cause of
action had yet to awaken, if he would awaken at all.
Narcissus. Chris Peels announced her
arrival, and she emerged on the landing overlooking the hall.
Her white gold hair cascaded over her shoulder, a striking
contrast to the inky black of her teacher's robes.
Had Theo's heart not already been pounding like a
malfunctioning metronome, the seismic leap it took at the
sight of her would have broken the scale.
With each glimpse of her since their tryst, it had become
alarmingly clear he was a goner. As she began to descend the
stairs, she offered, a warm yet subdued.
My Lord, what an honour. I hope I find you well.
Neglecting your teaching duties already, Madame Black?
Voldemort narrowed his slits of eyes at her, tension filling the
room like a bag of poison. Quills dropped in silence.
Nasisa halted mid descent, her entire demeanour freezing into a
semblance of a mannequin at Madame Malkin's.
A small scarf escaped Theo's lips before his brain could
catch up with his instincts, prompting Voldemort to shoot him
a laser like glare. Did you not know the commander's
of Mummy's boy? He blurted, attempting to
lighten the tense atmosphere, though he could feel Nessisa's
worried gaze on him. Always likes his mother tucking
him in at night when he's sick. The Dark Lord's glare slowly
shifted into a smirk as if he found some amusement in the
joke, before he closed the gap between them.
Theo felt the air around him thin, as though even the oxygen
wished to flee from the infurious level stench wafting
from Voldemort's mouth slit. I am told you are an orphan.
Am I correct in that knowledge? Not.
Theo felt all warmth drain from his body and quickly checked his
mental wards. Yes, Sir.
And. That you became.
Motherless from the moment of your birth.
Theo felt his chin fall in a single reluctant nod then.
You know very little about the true depth of a mother's love.
Voldemort's putrid breath seeped into Theo's nostrils, and he
struggled to contain his reaction.
Narcissa Voldemort. Slithered to the bottom of the
stairs, and Theo took a silent breath of unpolluted air as his
lungs thawed. I've come to see the boy.
Of course, my Lord, I can. Escort you she.
Turned, and the three of them headed upwards to Draco's
chambers in The West Wing. You are most gracious.
And where is the girl? Miss Grainger is by his bedside,
Sir. Good, good.
Then she and I will have a. Talk.
Hermione dabbed at Draco's forehead with a cool flannel.
You can fight this no matter the magic.
I know you can. His sallow body shook against
the emerald silk sheets and the glisten of sweat coating his
skin soaked through the fabric as if he were battling an
infectious malady. I'll find out what he did to
you, I promise. She whispered, placing all her
hope into a kiss on his gaunt cheek.
A desperate blessing. Draco's bedroom was exactly as
Hermione had imagined. A4 poster bed draped in
luxurious green sheets with heavy curtains to cocoon the
sleeper. An ornate's black and gold
mandala rug sprawled across the floor, while tall windows with
Criss crossed frames cast moonlight in segmented patterns
over A2 tidy desk and a Verde Indio marble fireplace.
Dark wood surfaces stood bare of Knick knacks and mementos, save
for a single stack of books beside his bed.
Hermione couldn't help but take a look on her first night at his
bedside and had been assaulted by a torrent of emotion as she
rearranged the pile book by book.
Double Trouble. Twins in trouble.
A guide to magical twins. Ones away.
Dragons at play. Magical milestones for growing
Wizards. Axio Diaper Enchanted tips for
hands. Free parenting.
All these weeks she had felt Draco pull further and further
away from her in his vain effort to protect her, and yet the idea
that he'd been sat up at night reading in preparation for the
babies he hadn't even conceived himself made her soul song swell
into a crescendo. She and Nosisa had heard the
crack of Apparition alerting them like a warning whistle to
Voldemort's presence. Nosisa had slept hastily from
the space to greet the dark demon while Hermione gathered
the damning books and scooted them under the bed.
Should they have kept the wards up, have kept the Manner a
sanctum and simply hidden here until Draco were to awaken?
They had wanted to, naturally, but that would be a highly
telling strategy, and without knowing what dark magic was
still coursing through Draco, they couldn't afford to elicit
more suspicion. Not until Draco had recovered,
at least. Hermione didn't rise as
Voldemort entered the bedroom. She only lifted her head,
offering him a clinical nod of acknowledgment.
Moonlight glanced off his skin, as though even it couldn't bear
to linger on him too long. Leave us.
He hissed to Narcissa and Theo, who hovered in the doorway
before retreating slowly, vanishing into the safety of the
corridor. With a flick of his wand,
Voldemort conjured a chair of bone streaked with dried brown
blood and settled himself on the far side of the bed, his back
pressed against the corner by the open door.
Hermione steadied her mind, locking away every dissenting
thought in mental boxes and tucking them on high shelves.
You mustn't fret, girl. The Malfoy air will rise as soon
as the magic has taken full effect, I confess.
He has not taken to the ritual. As well as I'd hoped, he tries
to resist. It would go so much more
smoothly if he'd only surrender to.
It. Voldemort leaned back, his thin
fingers steepled like claws as he watched her with a sharp
intensity. Hermione drew her eyes from
Voldemort's hands and found his Crimson irises.
She had questions, and this may be her only opportunity to get
answers. The ritual you performed.
The ritual? You mean that Headmaster Moody?
Performed. His grin was a lank, dead thing.
Yes. Her voice came out too clipped,
so she tried again, softening it to a tone of academic intrigue.
Yes, my Lord. It seemed like powerful magic.
Ancient, in fact. Hermione played to his ego.
I can only wonder at its intended result.
She forced the image of Moody's manipulated corpse from her mind
as she continued. If you deemed it sensible to
share, I might be able to ease Malfoy's recovery and return
your commander to you sooner. He tapped his fingers on the
armrests, contemplating just how much to reveal.
After several drawn out seconds, he settled on his comfort level
and spoke. This is.
Merely preparation a. Precursor.
To the next most necessary step. He will rise again, and when he
does, you will see there is nothing to fear.
His red slit like eyes narrowed on her, sending a surge of
primal fear through her body, every hair standing on edge.
Dare I say, you may find yourself even more.
Magnetized. To the Malfoy boy.
Hermione bit her lip reflexively.
You care for him, don't you? And he for you.
His gaze drilled into her, as sharp and unyielding as 100
needles, while he tilted his head to the side.
Hermione forced herself to look away, instead watching Draco's
lashes flicker restlessly, his face betraying the inner battle
raging in his unconscious mind. Voldemort rose to pace about the
room, stopping by the fireplace before continuing his thought.
It can be a lonely position being the most competent person
in the room. Malfoy seems to regard you as an
equal. This places you, Miss Grainger,
the brightest witch of her age, in a uniquely advantageous
position in the world to come, The magic we are about to
unleash upon our enemies commanded and controlled.
By Malfoy himself will possess the.
Power to overwhelm any army that dares stand against us.
And with you by his my. Side.
We will be. Unstoppable, but make no.
Mistake. You will never be his equal and
your wavering loyalty will be tested.
He circled the room, pausing at the doorway.
Don't be surprised if you find yourself under closer scrutiny.
Love alone will buckle under pressure if it isn't paired with
loyalty to the cause. Hermione's nettled thoughts
escaped her lips before she could rein them in.
I believe you have enough disloyalty within your ranks
without concerning yourself with a single Mudblood.
Voldemort's mouth morphed into a contemptuous smile, his eyes
narrowing even more dangerously. Make no mistake, Miss Granger,
while the rhetoric. May require a more.
Inclusive tone. Your kind has always been
expendable. Disloyalty festers like a wound.
And I. Will not tolerate weakness, Not
from my followers and certainly not from you.
Remember, loyalty is not a matter of love, it is a matter
of survival. Choose wisely where you place
your allegiance, for betrayal comes at a steep price.
The elder 1 rolled in Voldemort's fingers and in a
flash of madness am I any considered lunging for it,
Imagined taking him out for good.
You'd do well to use that quick tongue to rein in your Phoenix
rebels rather than attempting to seduce my commander.
Theo trailed Narcissus silently along the corridor to the trophy
room, keeping enough distance to avoid arousing suspicion, yet
close enough to spring to Hermione's aid.
If. Needed.
Narcissa wrung her hands as if trying to wipe away invisible
dirt. Drawing in a shaky breath, Theo
longed to hold her. Every nerve in his body cried
out for connection. She was like a drug.
After one hit, he was hopelessly hooked.
Stop looking at me like that, Theodore, She said, casting him
a stern glance. How would you have me look at
you? He replied, shaking his head.
The roguish grin he typically wore was overshadowed by concern
reflected in his dark, heavy brows.
Like a mother who's worried for her son.
He grasped her shoulders and she stiffened.
Like a woman in need of someone to be vulnerable with.
He leaned in teasingly close, his lips mere millimetres from
hers. Like a girl I'm desperate to
taste again, I said stop. Her voice carried a finality
that pierced through the swelling ache in his heart, and
she let out a deep sigh, a sigh of resignation.
This, you and me, it was a one time mistake.
It won't happen again. He stepped back, searching her
eyes for answers, desperate for a sign that this wasn't how she
truly felt. You're just scared.
Of course I'm scared, I'm terrified.
Her eyes began to brim with unshed tears.
My only son, the light of my life, is on death's door.
The Dark Lord has taken keen interest in him, and the girl he
most assuredly loves, though I doubt he has admitted as much,
is pregnant with his future children.
She stepped further away from him.
Meanwhile, the boy I have watched grow from a toddler to a
man is shattering through every defence I have built to protect
myself from these overwhelming emotions.
He stepped toward her again, and she surrendered to his touch as
he cradled her cheeks in his palms.
You can be vulnerable with me, I promise I can handle it.
Let me be that for you, Theodore.
You possess all the will of a St. and all the hopes of a
devil. Narcissa shook her head.
Allowing her ice blue eyes to meet his dark gaze.
My answer is no. Paine tore through him, her
rejection as a billow of black and green swept through the
hallway.