Unplottable

34 - Draco

Coming to the Slytherin Mansion and appearing before the Dark Lord himself was promising to be one of the greatest moments in Draco's short life. Their teachers and leaders, Ludmila Davies and Mr. Petrodent, had prepared them by telling them how to behave in front of You-Know-Who. As if Draco had ever considered misbehaving in his presence! All their lectures about just speaking when addressed, bowing and addressing You-Know-Who as 'Lord' were only needed by total morons like Siegfried Rechter, Draco explained to Chad.

A group of American students had arrived at Durmstrang four days ago. Together with the Durmstrang students, they had undergone the last section of their training. Mainly, this training had involved channelling the energy of other people's spells. Ludmila Davies had spoken a multitude of destructive curses through them, scorching half the area around Durmstrang. They had also learned to administer the Eliminatus curse themselves. Draco had managed to annihilate a newborn mouse, which was far better than Rechter's best performance, the annihilation of an ant.

Nobody except Draco seemed to wonder why they never annihilated anything big together as a test run. True, it seemed a bit wasteful to practise an Eliminatus curse on a random building full of people, but didn't the teachers always tell them that Muggles didn't matter? Draco would have liked to ask why they didn't make some Muggle office building disappear, but he didn't want to be too cheeky. The servants of the Dark Lord were no people with whom he wanted to mess around.

Their training sessions completed, the thirty-four boys from Durmstrang and Boston Magical High School prepared for travelling to England on Durmstrang's large ship. They had been told that the ship would use an invisible network of underground rivers connecting all streams, lakes and oceans in the world for the use of wizard transportation. Draco found the whole construction rather unlikely, but he was excited about using this strange way of travelling. He packed his best robes, magically cleaned all his shoes and fashion accessories, and acquired an extra bottle of hair potion. For the Dark Lord, he would look his best. Chad did the same, of course, and while the American made a much better picture than subhuman creatures like Crabbe, Goyle or Rechter, he did not look quite as grand as Draco did.

Just before they had to leave, Mr. Petrodent surprised them by announcing he would not go to the Slytherin Mansion with them. He had errands of his own to do, he explained before their assembly, errands the Dark Lord wanted to have carried out before their mission at any rate. He sounded so much like a secretive agent that everybody believed him immediately.

The journey on the ship resembled a dream. The boys stood on the deck of the ship while bizarre, inexplicable images passed by. Draco could never have explained how their underground travelling really worked, or where exactly they had travelled, but after a few hours of wondering, they found themselves on the glistening lake near the Slytherin Mansion.

Around Durmstrang, summer was a brief and sometimes rather chilly affair. Here, in England, summer meant flowers and the smell of hair, and a lot of sunshine between rainy showers. As soon as he smelled it, Draco remembered. He could not help thinking he was coming home. Briefly, he thought of the lake at Hogwarts, of its grassy banks and of the Giant Squid. All that would soon be no more. It took him some effort not to regret this.

Ludmila Davies led her students up to the Mansion. It was a stately building, recently saved from ruin and enlarged considerably to hold large numbers of Death Eaters; its park, however, was neglected, turning into a wilderness. In his mind, Draco had a number of gardeners tend to the overgrown maze and cut the hedges to re-achieve the place's stateliness, but it seemed the Dark Lord had no need for such things.

The boys were assembled in the mansion's great dining hall. There a nameless Death Eater spoke a few greeting words, saying they were welcomed in the rows of the Death Eaters and would do the Dark Lord a big favour. Draco guessed that names were not mentioned here unless it was necessary: Here, at the sanctuary of the Dark Lord himself, everybody had to fear treachery. Although steps had been taken to legalise being a Death Eater since his father was Minister of Magic, things were still dubious. Secrecy also was a means against Veritaserum, as nobody could reveal what he didn't know.

While the Death Eater said a few rather boring things to the students, Draco looked around for familiar faces among the adults. In a corner, he thought he saw Snape eating dinner at a table, talking to a grey-haired wizard, but he might be mistaken. Then he spotted his father deep in conversation with a few Death Eaters. He did not cast a single look at the group of students. Draco found this disturbing, if not insulting.

The boys received a decent meal and were shown to some simple dormitories where they could leave their luggage. They were asked to tidy themselves up before being brought to the Dark Lord. Draco felt his heart beat excitedly. What would the Dark Lord be like? How would he look? What would he say to them? Would he order them to be branded with the Dark Mark? How would he like Draco? Would he notice his well-tailored robes and his new haircut?

Finally, the great moment had come. The Death Eater who had spoken to them earlier assembled the students as well as Ludmila Davies to take them into the Dark Lord's chamber. Resisting the urge to tuck at his collar one last time, Draco followed.

Unlike the dining hall, which was large, but plain, the Dark Lord's chamber was large and stately, far more colourful than the crowds of black-robed Death Eaters lining the walls with their silver and green tapestries. Mirrors in gilded frames, marble columns and green velvet hangings made a good setting for the golden throne in the centre of the room. The Dark Lord, however, was a disappointment.

He wasn't handsome. He wasn't elegant or well dressed. Rather, he had an ugly, flat face the colour of moulding yoghurt, and he had no hair whatsoever. His nose was snake-like and flat, eyes were red and slit-like, and his wrinkled, limp ears somehow looked like the inside of dogs' ears. Draco could not help thinking that if this was immortality, he did not want it. Quickly, he banned such thoughts from his mind, terrified that the Dark Lord would read them.

"My youngest followers, I have assembled you here to give you your task so you can earn your place in the ranks of my Death Eaters," he addressed them. He had the worst voice in the world, high and screeching. Only discipline kept Draco from mentally replacing the Lord on the throne with himself. How could someone - something - so repulsive want to rule the world?

"I am grateful to your teacher, Miss Davies, for training you and bringing you here," the Dark Lord continued. "I am convinced she has taught you all to channel curse energy and to help me in my grand project."

Ludmila Davies curtsied; as she was a stout, square-faced witch, this looked quite awkward. "I am grateful to serve the Dark Lord," she half-whispered. "Also, I thank the Dark Lord for sending his right hand to me repeatedly to help the training until the last day."

The red, slit-like eyes turned to stare at her. "What do you mean, Davies?" the Dark Lord hissed. More than ever, he reminded Draco of a snake.

"I - I mean Mr. Petrodent, your Lordship," Ludmila Davies stammered, writhing under his stare. "As I am sure your Lordship knows, he came to help me last week and only left to do an urgent errant for your Lordship yesterday."

"Petrodent has disappeared months ago, most likely taken by the enemy," the Dark Lord hissed. Draco realised his voice and face, inhuman and emotionless, were nevertheless expression anger, if not fury. Ludmila Davies looked so scared that Draco wondered whether she was going to wet herself.

"I beg your pardon, your lordship," she whispered, suddenly all but in tears. "Your servant, Mr. Petrodent, has spent the last weeks with us and only left us yesterday. As you had told me you would send him to me repeatedly to help with the project, I believed he was doing your bidding."

"You silly bitch," the Dark Lord screeched. "You have probably opened your doors to an impostor and spy!"

"I am sorry, my Lordship," Davies said, trembling, "I only wanted to do your bidding!"

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord shouted and pointed his wand at Draco's Combat Magic teacher. The students from Durmstrang and Boston Magical High School could only stare at the teacher twisting and turning at the floor, screaming and pulling her hair. It was very undignified seeing her like this, her face a distorted mess oozing tears and spit. Draco knew he could never respect her like this. He despised her for making a mistake. How could she have disappointed the Dark Lord so much? He knew he would never permit himself to do this.

When the Dark Lord withdrew the curse, Ludmila was a blubbering wreck in the corner. Draco started wondering about the consequences of the discovery they had just made. If Petrodent had been a spy, what did this mean for their mission?

"Carry her downstairs and get her out of my sight," the Dark Lord said to a hooded figure. "I don't like to have females in this hall anyway." The figure obeyed, shouldering the limp figure of the teacher and leaving the room with her.

"Now, my young followers," the Dark Lord addressed the students again, "I have seen that your teacher does not deserve my gratitude. Nevertheless, you still have a chance to earn it. Others will accompany you to the great mission we will undertake tomorrow."

A figure approached the throne of the Dark Lord, bowed deeply and then knelt before the throne. Surprised, Draco recognised his father, the Minister of Magic.

"Malfoy, what do you want?" the Dark Lord asked rather rudely.

"My lord," Draco's father said quietly, "will you permit me to speak?"

"If you make it short," the Dark Lord snapped. Draco suddenly feared his father would soon be reduced to the same kind of messy leftover as Ludmila Davies.

"If I understand my lord correctly, he believes we have been spied out by the enemy," Lucius Malfoy said with greatest reverence. "This may decrease our chances of success. I beg you, my lord - as the father of one of the students, I beg you - please put off the undertaking, please delay it until we know more about this new danger."

"Do you want to feel my anger?" the Dark Lord hissed dangerously.

"No, my lord," Lucius Malfoy breathed, clearly terrified.

"Then betake yourself and your petty little private affairs away, and do not annoy me with the sight of you again until I call you," the Dark Lord spat.

"Of course, my lord," Lucius Malfoy said; still kneeling, he bowed until his forehead touched the floor. Then he crawled away as fast as he could and hid in the crowd.

Draco was amazed; he knew that his father served the Dark Lord, but he had never known how little respect he received for his pains. In addition, he tried to make sense of his father's objection. Did this mean the mission was dangerous, and that Voldemort was risking all of their lives without necessity?

"Our great mission," the Dark Lord went on as if nothing had happened, "will lead us to Scotland, right to the den of our enemy, to the castle of Hogwarts. There we will show that we are superior to the vermin of mudbloods and Muggle-lovers." His shrieking voice was rising now as if over a storm, suddenly taking Draco with it. "Our enemy is weak and scared, hiding behind his walls. We will overcome these walls - we will make them disappear!"

At this last word, Draco heard a roar of applause rise among his fellow students. He joined in, stricken with the general enthusiasm. Of course they would make it; they would defeat Hogwarts and its silly spies.

At the slightest wave of the Dark Lord's hand, the tumult died down immediately.

"Do not give heed to the silly warnings of your elders," he now almost whispered. He seemed to look directly at Draco, who felt the blood rise into his face. It had been wrong, he realised, to doubt like his father. The Dark Lord would lead them all into glory. The Dark Lord went on:

"You, who are young and brave, have the power to succeed. Some of your elders have seen defeat and treason, and they are weakened by it. They are weakened by doubt. Never doubt me, my young followers, and you will quickly rise to glory in my ranks, and to powers of which you have never dreamt."

A moment of absolute silence rang in Draco's ears. Then, the Dark Lord asked softly:

"Will you follow me to Scotland tomorrow to erase the vermin of Hogwarts with me, students of Durmstrang and Boston Magical High School?"

"Yes!" the boys shouted as one. Draco felt joy rise in his chest. Of course they would follow and do the Dark Lord's bidding."

"So be it," the Dark Lord responded coldly. "Now go to your rooms and get a good night's sleep."

The students bowed and left the grand chamber. In the hallway, someone tugged Draco's sleeve. Draco turned, half-fearing to see his disgraced father. To his surprise, he found himself staring in Snape's black eyes. Next to him, the grey-haired Death Eater Draco had noticed earlier was obviously waiting for Snape.

"Good luck, Draco Malfoy," the former Potions Master said to him. "May we meet again."

Snape's grey-haired companion emitted a short, mirthless laugh.

Now, what was all that supposed to mean? Did Snape, too, believe their mission too dangerous? Did he belong to the group of cowardly elders who were no more fit to serve the Dark Lord, who were only waiting to be replaced by this energetic, fearless younger generation? Before Draco could ask, however, Snape and his companion had disappeared into the crowd.

Shrugging Chad's questioning look away, Draco followed his fellow students to the dormitories. Tomorrow, they would be victorious, no matter what the cowards said.

^{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}

The next morning, the boys were lead to the ship of Durmstrang by six hooded, faceless Death Eaters. There they were awaited by the Dark Lord himself and a pale, trembling Ludmila Davies. Draco thought that his teacher looked slightly insane. He wondered why the Dark Lord was taking her on this mission if she did not deserve his trust, but maybe she was needed.

A seventh hooded Death Eater appeared, carrying a pack of broomsticks. Draco counted; his pack contained eight broomsticks. Enough for the Dark Lord and his hooded followers to make a quick getaway, a treacherous voice in his head said. Draco ignored such thoughts of doubt. They would all succeed and afterwards leave the annihilated place with the ship on which they would travel there.

One of the Death Eaters told the Dark Lord they were ready to leave. Draco thought he had heard his voice before; could he be Snape's companion of the day before? Deciding this was a matter of minor importance, Draco let his mind stray to their task.

Maybe the lake of Hogwarts and the giant squid would survive, Draco thought with relief; after all, they needed the lake to enter the strange net of underground rivers they were using for transportation. Suddenly, he wondered what would happen to the grounds if they made Hogwarts disappear. He knew it was not only the castle at which their curse would be aimed, but also everything on the Hogwarts grounds, including a vermin-infested camp of the dangerous League. But could they make the land itself turn into nothing? There couldn't be a hole in the globe, Draco decided as the ship slowly sank into the lake in front of the Slytherin mansion: The land had to stay, and only everything of its surface would be erased from space and time.

The ship journey was as strange and otherworldly as ever. Awed, the Americans, who were not used to this means of transportation, stared around, just as on the first journey. Draco was actually starting to enjoy it. He decided he would like a ship like that, too, for his own, private travelling. Once he had got ahead in the ranks of the Dark Lord, he would certainly own one.

At last, the ship surfaced on the lake of Hogwarts. Draco looked around. Around them were the grounds he had once roamed, abloom with summer. Memories hit him like a smell of childhood. The castle, imposing and beautiful, rose in the background. At last, they would annihilate it. He was glad of it.

"Goodbye, Hogwarts," the Dark Lord said, grinning evilly.