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augury_dmalfoy in augury_rpg

Who: Draco and the Dark Lord
What: a meeting, and a new assignment.
Where: Dark Lord headquarters.
When: Tuesday, November 16th. Evening.
Status: complete.

In terms of school, the Dark Lord really could not have picked a worse night to summon Draco. Not that he cared; he left the stack of books and parchment with relish when his arm started to burn, glad to have something else to think about. He'd put so much of his energy into schoolwork lately that he was getting restless, but it would be worth it when his marks came back.

In the quiet of the dormitory, he prepared for the meeting, concealing his mask beneath his cloak. He could feel it there as he slipped through the hallways, avoiding contact with anyone that might wonder what he was doing, not that they could do anything about it.

It was a relief to be out of the castle. He'd been inside for too long because of the snow, but even that felt good to him now, the crisp air clearing his lungs and his head as snowflakes brushed his cloak. It was spelled for warmth and against water, but it wasn't long before Draco felt the bite of the chill air on his face, and his spirits had sunk back down again by the time he reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, where he could Apparate away. He put on his mask, turned on the spot, and disappeared.

Moments later, he was standing in front of the Dark Lord. Here it was warmer, which renewed Draco's energy a great deal, and he felt mostly composed and ready for whatever was to happen. It was odd, how going back to a place he hated even more than here could put these meetings in perspective.

"My Lord," he said, inclining his head. "You summoned me?"


The Dark Lord sat upon his seat, right hand absently stroking Nagini's head where the large snake lay curled upon his lap. The boy's arrival was expected, though a minute or two later than He had wished for. He would wait until later to teach the boy how to promptly answer one of His summons.

"Welcome back, Draco Malfoy," he spoke precisely in a voice that hissed along the room's every surface. "Tell me, how did you enjoy your time back at school? Have you been impressed with the changes we have wrought there?"
Draco knew he hadn't much time to prepare an answer for that, but he knew that his completely honest answer was probably not what the Dark Lord wanted to hear. No matter what changes were made, he very much doubted that anything could change the way he felt about the horrid castle.

"It's improved, certainly," he agreed, mouth twitching in something akin to amusement. "But then, we're not done yet, are we, my Lord?"

There. He was pleased with that answer; it was honest, without being too open for his own comfort.
"And your friends? Miss Parkinson? Miss Davis? Miss Bulstrode and Mister Nott? What can you tell me about what they have been up to?" Voldemort asked, his eyes lifting from his beloved snake to the blonde boy before him. After a month among them, he expected some kind of information.

"And Potter's friends. Are they still trying to support their dear savious?" he asked with a voice full of venom. "Do they still believe he can stop me?"
"Mostly schoolwork, my Lord, it is their NEWTs year," Draco answered smoothly. Pansy and Tracey? he wondered, a little bit taken aback. They weren't honestly being considered for any part of the Dark Lord's plans... were they? "Though there are rumours that Bulstrode got detention for attacking a Mudblood, and as for Nott... I don't confide in him, and he doesn't confide in me, but I believe he agrees with our cause on some level, at least."

He thought of the last time he'd really properly talked to Nott, and how odd it had been. Nott was hiding something, but then he'd always been secretive; it had been hard for Draco to tell whether it was something important or not.

The second question was even easier to answer. "I don't doubt that they still want to believe it, my Lord, though none of them seem very hopeful to me." He wanted to ask if his task was going to be something that would make them even less hopeful, but decided against it.
"Ah, yes," Voldemort said with a sarcastic hiss, "NEWTs are certainly more important than furthering your Lord's cause."

Nagini slid away from his lap and slithered off to a far corner, tail flickering one last time in Draco's direction before disappearing into the darkness. Voldemort stood from his grand seat, his presence taking up a large portion of the room as he stepped down toward where Draco stood.

"It may surprise you, boy, but I did not allow you to be sent back to the school so that you could languish about with your books, tittering after pretty little schoolgirls and playing Quidditch all day!"
"I don't think so," Draco said quickly, a little bit afraid for the first time that night. It was true that he hadn't been doing very much in the way of the Dark Lord's work, but that wasn't his fault, was it? It had been his father who'd sent him back. "I've been awaiting your orders, my Lord!"

But he doubted that was a good enough excuse; he would have been surprised if it had worked. Annoyingly contradictory, to wait this long to summon him, and then to get mad at him for doing nothing - but that was the kind of thought that could get him killed if spoken aloud, so he kept it to himself.
"Ah, so you've been awaiting my orders," He mocked. He moved ever closer to the boy, until his heated breath flowed over the pale skin.

"Because intelligence cannot be gathered without orders. Because observations on the enemy cannot be made without orders. Then tell me boy... what use are you without my orders?" The question was loaded and the gun cocked, trigger waiting to be pulled.
There was no answer that Draco could give which would not implicate his father in some way. It had been his father's wishes that he spend most of his time studying, and Draco had to wonder how he had imagined Draco getting away with it without some form of consequence.

"A servant that did not want to displease his Lord," he said lamely, unable to come up with something better. "I would gladly put the books aside if you ask me to."

He tried to keep his head high, but he could tell that this was about to go very very badly for him. At least he had not done anything that warranted being eaten by the snake.
If it weren't for the usefulness of Lucius Malfoy, Draco would have been eaten then and there, for Nagini was long past dinnertime. However, the boy's inclusion among the Dark Lord's ranks would have to be salvaged somehow.

"You will go back to school until the end of this week," Voldemort instructed. "You will keep your eyes and ears open, and gather as much information as you can - not only about the children still in school, but also about those that have escaped."

He turned from the boy, his robes swinging behind him and only just avoiding slapping Draco as they moved past him. "At the end of this week, you will begin a new assignment. There are mudbloods and wretched halfblood traitors running about wild, many of whom are young. Somehow, they are evading those that seek them. You and a handful of others are being chosen to snatch them up and bring them to pureblood justice."

He had returned to his throne-like seat and sat down, his eyes boring into Draco as if seeing straight into his soul. "You are young, Draco, and so are they. Use this to find them. Use the information you will gather over the next few days before you leave, and use your instincts, for they will lead you to them. Find them, and destroy them as they would not hesitate to destroy you and yours if given the chance."

A pause. "These are your orders, so you will have no further need of waiting. What say you, boy? Are you up to the task for which you have been chosen?"
Draco was a little bit surprised by that punishment; he had expected at least one curse to fall, judging by how angry the Dark Lord had seemed. He didn't allow himself to feel relieved yet, however - he had not been dismissed, and he was still expected to answer that question.

"I am, my Lord," he said firmly, clenching his hands when they threatened to tremble. At least his voice was relatively steady. "I will not fail."

His eyes gazed over the boy, noting the clenched hands and the effort it seemed to take for him to steady his voice. He drank in the boy's unspoken fear as if it were a fine wine.

"However, there is still the small matter of your lack of initiative..."

Before one could blink, His wand was in His hand, and as his face changed from calm to pure fury, the word "Crucio!" came flying from his lips, directed straight at the Malfoy boy.
It was the pause that frightened Draco more even than the sound of the curse itself. Pauses were never a good thing, they usually meant that the Dark Lord was considering what sort of punishment was best. Draco knew that, even though he wasn't used to being the punished one.

He managed to tighten his jaw in anticipation in that small pause he was allowed, before the curse landed. It hurt worse than anything Draco had ever felt, but it was not a fatal, draining pain, and he managed not to scream even as his limbs twitched.
The boy did not cry or plead, and this displeased Him. He sneered and grew angry, then used the anger to add more fuel to the curse.

"Always remember, boy, that this is what happens to those who displease me!" He could feel something along his ankle - ah, it was Nagini, returning to his side like any loyal pet. The familiar weight helped him to focus upon the torture of the boy. "You will endeavour to never displease me again!"
Draco cried out when the pain became almost too much to bear, but he still refused to plead; he had too much pride, and the effort to form words was far better put towards answering the question.

"Yes," he managed, voice strained, and was forced to sink to the floor when his knees gave out. "I will never displease you again, m- my Lord."

And the Crucio was ended. The cry He had wrenched from the boy's measly little mouth had been delicious, but far from enough to slake His own greedy thirst. As long as the boy remained useful, he was safe from His wrath, but the moment he outlived his usefulness, then his cries would resound throughout the walls of this hideaway for decades to come.

"Now go. You have intelligence to gather before you will go out into the world and hunt down those who dared think you their peer. Those who have sullied the halls of Hogwarts with their Muggle-loving filth."
Draco was panting when the curse ended, gasping for breath. But he got to his feet as quickly as he could, nerves jangling, and attempted to compose himself.

"Yes, my Lord," he said, managing a small bow, and turned to leave.

It was a relief to be outside again, even more than it had been to leave the castle. He was angry more than anything, irritated at the mistreatment, but he would have to redirect it -- it did no good to be mad at the Dark Lord.

The traitors, though -- the ones he was assigned to hunt -- he could take it out on them. And he was looking forward to it.