Fallen Angels

Chapter Two: Surrender to Your Darkest Dreams

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before
Close your eyes, let your spirit soar
And you'll live as you never lived before...

Let your mind start a journey though a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Let your soul take you where you long to be
Only then can you belong to me...

Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in..."

-Various Lines spoken by the Phantom of the Opera (in Music of the Night)

Suddenly I woke again, finding myself embraced by the arms of someone I didn't know. The arms were unrecognisable. I didn't even bother to look. I shot up from the ground and backed away, terrified of whoever it was. Luckily, it wasn't Voldemort; he was the High Table once again. I don't know who had held me, nor did I care. I only cared about what lay ahead of me at this point. I wanted to cry, but couldn't.

I stood transfixed as the few remaining people filed out of the Great Hall. Snape helped Granger to her feet, and the others made their way over to Voldemort. All of them had their heads bowed, fearing for their lives and afraid of what would happen if they didn't submit to his wishes. All except Pansy and Millicent that is. He had called my name. Me of all people. I didn't want to know what was going to happen. I didn't want to die! Not then! Not ever! I didn't want to move, but suddenly I was pushed.

'Move,' a cold low voice commanded. I turned around to find the ice-blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy staring at me heartlessly. I hated him.

'Yes, Godfather,' I said, addressing him in the way I had since he and Narcissa had taught me to speak. I walked forward and joined the others. Granger sniffled again. Elizabeth was silent and looked like she stared purposely into nothingness, so that she wouldn't be tempted to throw a look at her new master--and find him staring back at her...

Voldemort eyed all of us up and down before he began to speak. 'What changes I make to society don't concern any of you. You seven were chosen for other reasons. I have tried to think of a way in which to tell you just what your duty is, yet I find myself teaching you a biblical lesson. God created man and angels in the image of himself: the epitome of perfection.' His voice rang out in the Hall as if he were God and I very much assumed that that was what he was making himself out to be. 'However, men disobeyed him and they were no longer perfect. And man corrupted seven of his angels. They were still perfect, but with one flaw of pleasure.' He had paused, but paused for way too long. I, for some reason, wanted to know what happened to those angels. At the same time, something had clicked in my mind and set of the bright light bulb in my head. Seven angels... Voldemort had picked seven girls. The story had something to do with our task and I wanted to know the rest of the story so that I would know my task. If I chose to accept it, that is. I wasn't going to give my entire heart, mind, and soul to Voldemort.

'W-What happened to the angels?' I asked him. The other girls stared at me as if I was insane, but I wasn't. I wanted to know what my fate was. I wasn't going to stand here and be blind to what came at me. I needed to know even if I didn't want to.

Voldemort turned his head to me and grinned. 'Enthusiasm. I value that greatly here,' he said. Enthusiasm? I'd hardly call the questioning of my fate "enthusiasm".

He then continued the narrative as if I'd never disturbed the silence. 'The seven angels were condemned by God and sent away, where they fell to Earth to live out the rest of their days, and ever since they were known as the Fallen Angels. I'm sure a few of you have already understood the hidden meaning of my tale for I have chosen the seven of you to be *my* Fallen Angels. You will have to be trained, of course, by Master Lucius, Master Draco, or Master Severus. You will be trained to be the epitome of perfection in my eyes. Once you are ready you will be initiated as a Fallen Angel.'

'My Lord, if we're supposed to be Fallen Angels, what do we do that makes us corrupted?' Millicent spoke. What an idiot! How naive she was at times. Did she not realize that we were "fallen" because we eventually would have to be taken to bed! A fate I was most certainly not looking forward to and would protest against at every chance I got, or could I?

Voldemort's malicious grin scared the wits out of me. 'That should be obvious, my Angels. Let's have someone answer that question for us... Blaise since you seem so smart, you answer Millicent's question.' Oh why me? This was starting to be too much for me.

'Er... somehow we... er... have to... be... made impure,' that was the best way I could put it without feeling foolish.

'Such a minimal answer, child. I expected better from you.' His sneer was cold and it was prevalent in his voice that he was scolding me. Some power was taking over me. My head seemed to lower itself in shame. Or was he doing that? Was I already beginning to fall into this senseless Fallen Angel act? I didn't even bother to look up. This was silly! I was being a silly little girl again! Lowering my head in shame... HA! I would lower my head to no one!

'Master Severus, Master Draco, and Master Lucius, do me the honour of escorting these girls up to their new quarters?' Voldemort asked.

'Yes, my Lord,' they all said in unison. The girls began to file out of the Hall and I moved to go with them, but I was held back by someone grasping my arm. I gasped slightly and shivered as I turned around, but only to face death itself. Voldemort's pale pearl-coloured skin glistened in the candlelight and his red eyes glowed maniacally. The only improved feature on this snake was that his dark brownish-black hair was neat, but that was his one and only human characteristic.

'Why such a minimal answer?' he asked, keeping a tight grasp on my wrist. His thumb was nearly digging into my arm, and I could see the telltale tinge of red and pink appear on my skin. Interrogating me on the very first night wasn't a good sign to me.

'I'm shy. I don't say such obscene things in public,' I told him truthfully. I didn't want to think of the strife that lay ahead of me. Nor did I want my purity taken from me. I didn't want to be this thing that I was already becoming. I hadn't started my training, but having been selected was enough.

'Already the embodiment of perfection, aren't we?' He seemed pleased with me. I said nothing. He extended his arm to me. 'Come, I'll escort you to your quarters.' I stood there, just staring at his extended arm, afraid to take it. I was afraid to put any sort of trust into him. I feared him greatly. He just stood there and smiled at me. 'Go on, I don't bite and I have no intentions of hurting you, if that's what you're afraid of.'

Feeling no present threat by him, I shamefully took his arm and let myself be guided out of the Great Hall. He directed me upstairs to where the teachers' quarters were situated and the Arithmancy classes had once been held.

'I had my followers convert many of the rooms here already. There are eleven rooms on this floor. I found it suitable for my Angels to reside here close to me.'

Before we got into the hallway that had contained the teachers' rooms, I paused at a Gothic structured arch that led to the teachers' quarters. At the high point of the arch was a black engraving that hadn't been there before. It was a black outlined dove with decorative lines and feathers on either side of it. It was a sign I would not want to remember in the future. I went past it, pretending I hadn't seen it there in the first place, after I had noticed that Voldemort was leaning against a door waiting for me to finish my observations.

There were ten doors in this hallway. Five on each side, directly across from each other with an eleventh door at the very end of the hall. Voldemort happened to be leading me to the last door on the left just before that eleventh door. I looked around at the doors, finding glimmering silver letters on each of the doors, spelling out the names of the Fallen Angels as well as their masters. Across the hall from the door that Lord Voldemort had led me to, was a door with silver scripted letters bearing the name 'Master Severus' on it. Next to that was a door with the same type of lettering, but with the name Elizabeth on it.

At least my best friend was somewhere close to me. But being next to Voldemort and across from Professor Snape gave me something to fear. I would be watched, and watched very closely. I felt helpless and couldn't think of what would be the proper actions and reactions when the two of them were near. Professor Snape had scared--but also fascinated--even us Slytherins in our days under his watch. That was enough torture, let alone having the Dark Lord in the room next door. I gave a quick glance to see who was in the room next to me. There on the door in the same glowing font was the name Hermione. I should have known because a second later I heard sobbing coming from her room. The poor girl was devastated at the loss of her friends. I felt terrible and sorry for her, but I was careful to not let the emotions show on my face, for her friends' murderer was standing right beside me, watching every move I made.

'This is your room,' he said. 'All of the Angels get a room to themselves. This door here is my room.' He gestured to the eleventh door. 'Across the hall from you is Master Severus. Master Lucius is at the end of the hall along with Master Draco. The other Angels are in the other rooms in this corridor. I shall leave you to get your rest, my Angel.' He cupped my face in his hands and moved to lightly kiss the top of my forehead. A chaste kiss of innocence. Yet so demanding to my soul to make me please him in manner and etiquette. I drew away from him and stared at him, horrified. He was about to kiss me. I wasn't about to let the most evil creature on the face of the earth place his lips upon me.

'I told you that I would not hurt you, child. I merely wanted to give you a kiss goodnight,' he said quite gently, but I didn't believe him. His kiss was like that of a Dementor. It would be the kiss of death to anyone who received it. He would claim you with just the one kiss. You'd be his forever. I refused to give myself to him, nor would I ever do such a thing. I would not surrender to him. I was a Slytherin, yes, but I was not loyal to him, nor did I have his sentiments. Why he chose me of all the girls I did not know. There were several girls I knew that would be more willing to his demands, prettier, cleverer, more skilled in various branches of magic, light and dark.

'I allow no man to kiss me.' What was I saying? Voldemort was hardly a man. He was a snake, a treacherous viper that sucked the life from people once they joined him. Like a snow globe, he held the world in his hands; crushing the delicate sphere with his fist and watching it ooze out from between his pale, thin fingers, with a hint of cruel satisfaction flickering over his distorted face... 'For I do not trust anyone,' I added, watching him dangerously, but also fearfully. The colour of his red eyes darkened until it was crimson, the colour of dried blood, as he stared into my eyes, as if they were the windows to my soul. I could see the quiet fury that he would not display openly in his eyes. He didn't have the intention of frightening me; he only wanted to gain my trust, creep his way into my mind...

'Very well. I shall respect your feelings, but you must understand that I do this with the greatest disdain. You'll soon learn to act in a much more suitable way than you are on this evening. You'll be taught the proper way to address me. I need to remind myself that I cannot yet expect you to be a perfect Angel without having been taught.' He was no longer furious, but he wasn't calm either. 'You will be perfect, Blaise, and when you are, you will accept a kiss goodnight without any second thought and come to me at my beckoning. You just wait. You'll be surprised by yourself.' He spoke scornfully and hateful, but I would not let it get to me. I would refuse him with every bit of being that I was.

He then opened the door to his room and said, 'I bid you goodnight.' The door fell shut behind him, but only after he'd thrown me one last lingering glance.

I felt somewhat violated by his eyes. He had stared at me precariously, looking me up and down... I shook myself, shaking off those thoughts, and grasped the knob on the door. I looked up at the blazoned letters on the English oak that read 'Blaise' in beautiful silver script letters that seemed to have been carved into the door. I opened the door to find a small room, but not that much in it. There was a queen-size black four-poster bed in the far corner. The white walls were decorated with black velvet curtains and sheets. How fitting. Why did I suddenly get the impression that Snape had designed the décor? He, after all, wore nothing besides ebony day in and day out. It was as if the man was colour-blind and knew no other shade except for the black of his robes and the pale white skin of his face and hands.

At the foot of the bed was my trunk. I walked over to it and opened it, but I found that only few of my previous belongings were there, nothing except for my most personal items, including a very old and worn photograph of my mother and father. Its right hand corner was torn and tattered; it was so old. It had once been in a photo album at the Malfoy house, but I had stolen it, when I'd been ten years old, without my Godparents ever knowing that I had taken it.

I returned to observing my new "home". There was a small low bookcase adjacent to the trunk still on the back wall. Beside the bed was a matching black night table and in the right front corner was a desk also black. On the left wall stood a black dresser with ornate silver decorations around the mirror and fancy silver handles on the drawers. I looked in the mirror for the briefest of moments and wanted to smash it because of who I saw in the mirror. Yes, it was only me, but now I was reduced to this... thing. This... Fallen Angel as I was now called. I didn't know whether to continue this foolish act or not. Did I have a choice?

I opened the dresser drawers to look for my clothes and other things that belonged to me, but my own clothes were not in there. There were other clothes in there along with a note on a small piece of parchment:

Blaise,

In these drawers you will find the garments and uniforms to be worn by the Fallen Angels. Take your time to peruse through them and try them on. I myself picked out things that I thought would be suitable for my Angels. Your books should be on the bookshelf and the library will remain open for you all to use at your discretion. Nightwear has also been provided. If you feel that you need anything please see Master Lucius, Master Severus, Master Draco, or myself.

Lord Voldemort

I put the note down, angered beyond reason that my own clothes had been taken away from me. I wanted to smash something. I wanted to call the other 'Angels' and plot our escape. I thought about running. The door wasn't looked. How far would I make it? (Probably not even as far as Hogsmeade...) I wanted to walk up to Voldemort and ask him who gave him the right to do what he did.

But I knew the answers to all of the questions that were racing through my head. And the day had exhausted me more than I had thought. I was tired. I pulled out a casual black nightgown, put it on and scrambled under the black sheets. It was comfortable and I felt I'd be fast asleep soon. One question, however, remained unanswered: Why did everything have to be black?