What: a meeting, and a new assignment.
Where: Dark Lord headquarters.
When: Tuesday, November 16th. Evening.
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?"