Doom of the Dragon

1: How life changes ....

I didn't hate Draco. He had always been the way a Malfoy is, and I saw him breaking way more hearts than mine.

I crossed his way when I had just turned 13.

My parents had both been killed a few days earlier and one of the hooded strangers murdering them had lifted me up after hours of crying and had brought me to some distant place.

I did not understand then why my parents had been taken away from me; and I did not understand why I had been left unharmed, but most of all I did not understand why the very murderer of my parents had taken me to some kind of manor and placed me carefully on a satin sheeted bed.

So there I lay. Shivering and crying. My golden hair spread over the wood-green material. I was dirty and tired and cold.

I knew those hooded creatures were wizards. Just as my father had been a wizard. They had fought and killed by pointing their wands at him, and muttering some strange sounding words which I didn't understand. My mother was killed in the same way.

I, just like my mother, was a muggle. I had no magic talent and had spent my life in an almost perfectly normal world. Well, except of my father disappearing now and then to work for the Ministry of Magic.

My father had been a great wizard, or so I thought, and I knew that his work and his greatness had been the reason for his and my mother's death.

I looked down at my ankles. They were bruised and blood was soaking the green sheets. I felt the tears on my face dry up slowly, and when I looked up from my ankles I saw the man that had brought me here standing in front of me.

He looked down at me. His long platinum-blonde hair framed his face beautifully. His steel gray eyes stared straight into my dirty green ones.

He stepped closer and I could feel my heart starting to jump uncomfortably in my chest. He stared at me and then opened his mouth:

" You are at the Malfoy Manor! You will be staying here for some time, Anja!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I neither knew why I had been brought here nor where this man knew my name from. I was scared to death.

The idea that all of this had been a dream popped up in my head and I waited for my waking.

But I didn't wake up ... I never woke up!

The beautiful white-haired man simply looked at me and when he turned and left my room, I could feel tears welling in my eyes again.

Ugly little creatures entered my room, and wrapped me into heavy blankets.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks again, but sooner or later I found the sleep, that I so desperately needed.

I woke up from the sound of a soft voice the next morning.

"Silence in steam ...

Dreaming a dream ....

Seeing you see ...."

I opened my eyes and could not find anyone near me.

"... don't cry

it isn't easy to be!"

But when I looked up I saw a silvery, almost nonexistent thing hovering in midair over my bed.

I drew in my breath heavily when I reckognised that thing for what it was.

A GHOST!

I could not believe it. A young beautiful girl looked down at me. She was not much younger than I was. She looked perfectly normal apart from the fact, that her body seemed to consist of fog.

The girl smiled and blew a kiss at me.

"Go back to sleep ...

I'll hold you and protect you from the other ones

The evil ones ...

Go back to sleep!"

Then she turned around and floated away.

She had almost disappeared through the walls when I recovered my voice, "But there is no such thing as ghosts!"

The girl turned around and gave me another one of her sweet smiles, " Ohhh ... isn't there?"

But before I could ask anymore questions - and I sure had many to ask - the girl had vanished.

I could not believe what I had just seen.

Was I in a fever? Did I see things that were not there? I would have panicked if the thought of all this only existing in my imagination would not have been the most comforting and easiest explanation of all.

After the girl had left for some time I went back to sleep.

This time it was an uneasy sleep. I dreamt of the deaths of my parents.

I saw myself being bind to a bed. I saw once again how the hooded strangers laughed when my father sucked his last breath and once again I heard my mother plead for her daughters life. My life.

I was kind of relieved when a stone cold hand brought me back to the real world.

" She's feverish. Bring me some potions!"

I reckognised the voice of the white haired man and when I opened my eyes his face was right above mine.

"Don't worry! Everything will be allright!"

His voice appeared much softer and much warmer than it had the day before. It was still the voice of a cold and heartless creature, but at least it made me believe, that he was afterall at least part-human.

A young women stumbled into the room. She handed the white-haired man a little bottle.

The man opened it and brought it up to my mouth.

" Drink!" His voice sounded harsh and comanding.

I did drink and felt much better immediately.

The man stroked my thick, black hair out of my young innocent face and then left the room.

The two women standing next to my bed started to get me ready for the day at once when he had left the room.

I still felt dizzy and I could not do much but looking at them while they washed my dirty body and then wrapped me into dark red robes.

I had never worn robes before. I had seen them on my father several times, but I myself thought them quite out of fashion.

When the women were done with dressing me they started to work on my hair.

They combed my long golden locks and then tied them up here and there. When they were done with that they seemed to feel quite satisfied with themselves and smiled at my reflection.

I smiled back at them through the mirror being placed in front of me.

" The master is awaiting you downstairs in some minutes. He doesn't like people being late. So you should be on your way downstairs at once."

I nodded, but then thought of the many questions tormenting me all through this night.

" But who is your master? What is his name? Where are we here? What is expected of me?"

The girls shook their heads, " It's not at us to tell you that! You'll have to ask him yourself!"

Great, ask the murderer of my parents all the stuff running through my head was not the best idea I could think of.