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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?"



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.