Serpent's Embrace

Chapter Two

The comfort that you will find as long that you remain hidden while the light betrays, casting your true self away. They remain blinded. As vanity possesses me I am further away, gripped by a belief in empty words, driven by a need to prove. The shell may wither but the fire burns eternal. (- Shadows Fall)

THAT NIGHT the first snow fell. Beautiful, thick flakes of white snow whirled down on the pavement and roofs, the streets and gardens with the grace of a dying swan, only to disappear the moment they touched the surfaces. Birds sought shelter in the safe nests the humans had built for them in an attempt to make up for all the other nature they had already destroyed.

One owl was fighting its way through the constant showers as it flew over the heart of London. It continued its quest as it soared over rooftops and dodged chimneys until it finally slowed down and took a seat on a mucky windowsill, looking ruffled. Its feathers were standing the wrong way up and it was hooting reproachfully, while it impatiently pecked the dim window every now and then.

At the same time, I was walking on the same said street with my hands dug deep inside my pockets and my head slightly bowed. I looked up to see the hotel looming up above me and caught sight of an owl sitting in front of my window. I scowled at it, but nevertheless sped up my pace as I was actually quite eager to see what the piece of parchment tied to the owl's leg said.

In the dark I couldn't possibly recognise the owl from that distance, but from what I did see it seemed as though I didn't know it. Maybe it is Potter's, I thought wildly, but immediately after told myself off for even thinking such an absurd thing. Must be the alcohol, I assured myself. Should definitely not have drunk so much.

My key was shaking badly in my hand as I tried to put it into the keyhole. After a couple or so more attempts I managed to open the door. I entered my room and switched the light on. The room instantly filled itself with a cheerless light coming from the bulb dangling on a wire coming from the ceiling. I walked over to the window to let the owl in, it immediately leaped over the frame and pecked me hard on the hand, obviously pissed off because it had been sitting in the cold ever since, well, what probably had been a long time judging by its state.

'Bloody bird,' I swore, tearing off the letter, after which I shooed it away. However, it refused to leave the room and I found myself looking at it incredulously as it flew to the bed and perched on my pillow. I closed the window.

'Fine then,' I snapped. 'Be that way.'

After that, I quickly glanced down at the parchment. I recognised the handwriting from the moment I unfolded it and saw the scrawl in which only one short sentence was written. It read, They said no. Terribly original content of course, I rolled my eyes. Not that I had expected anything else from my Aunt Bellatrix. I made a wad out of it, threw it up and set it on fire with my wand.

The board is set and the pieces are moving ... I laughed scornfully at this and flopped down on the still tediously creaking bed. However, my haughtiness soon turned into despair as full realisation hit me like a bolt of lightning on a sunny afternoon. Shit. I knew I should be happy I could finally start to fulfil my master's plan now, but I wasn't. I buried my head in my hands, looking at my knees. I really wasn't. I kept my head pinned on the palms of my hands, swallowing back the lump in my throat.

If the Zabinis had indeed refused to join our forces, which I didn't doubt, to be honest, as they normally always preferred to keep their nose out of things, this meant I had to kill them. I had to kill them. No one else. No, I had to put up an act after I had massacred the mother of one of my best friends and make sure I got pitied by fucking Saint Potter so he would let me infiltrate into his fucking club of insufferable goody-goodies.

A sob escaped my mouth all of a sudden, breaking the otherwise complete silence in the room. I was startled by this. I got up and stumbled over to the mirror, looking at my reflection as if it were the first time I saw myself in a very long time. My fingers ghosted over my cheekbones as I looked myself penetratingly in the eyes. I wasn't crying, nevertheless, I looked so glum that I knew it probably wouldn't take long before the first tears would start brimming over and roll down my cheeks.

I blinked a couple of times and turned my head away from the mirror. Damn the couple of drinks I had had on my way back here for my ridiculous behaviour; alcohol always turned me into a sap.

If I didn't kill the Zabinis, my mother was going to be killed by the Dark Lord. Final. His mother or mine; it's not like I had a choice in this or anything, that's just the way it was and it was too late to do anything about it now. I stared out of the window for a moment, sighing. Tomorrow I would need to start on my Lunacy Philtre and the antidote, but now I came to think of it I doubted whether I would actually need one after committing such a horrible deed.

My eyes glazed over and I opted to open the window again, leaning on the window frame and breathing in the wonderfully chilly air. Several tears ran over my face and they felt oddly ice-like as they came in contact with the cold wind rushing past. It had been snowing only a little but after a while the flakes grew thicker as they reeled out of the beautiful purplish white sky, it was a breathtaking sight. A single snowflake whirled down and fell onto the tip of my nose as silvery tears welled up in my eyes again. Every now and then I sobbed reluctantly, unable to hold it back.

I absolutely hated crying, but it was just something that I did. I couldn't help it. That's me, the woeful little Death Eater son. Pity me, thy great saviour of the wizarding world! Boohoo!

I snorted silently and pushed the tears out of my eyes with the back of my hand, smiling when I realised it had stopped snowing and a fragile snow cover was now mantling the city in a white winter cloak. It looked like a malformed sort of Christmas card, with roofs for trees and streets for frozen rivers.

I shook the feeling off, absolutely disgusted by my own thoughts. Disgruntled, I once more attempted to get the owl out of my room, cursing when I saw it had stained my pillow.

'Get out, now!'

Red sparks erupted from the tip of my wand and the owl flew away in a huff, hooting loudly as it soared through the window. I glared after it, closing the window and wishing for it to drop dead right there, right then. It didn't, so I decided to clean up the mess it had made during its relatively short stay. Then I took the small package filled with potions ingredients out of the pocket of the cloak I had still been wearing and safely tucked it away at the bottom of the wardrobe, underneath some spare blankets.

I still needed to find a way to brew a potion in a cauldron without the chambermaid finding out. I pursed my lips and frowned as I took the collapsible cauldron out of my trunk. I wondered briefly if it would attract attention if suddenly odd coloured vapours would be drifting about, considering the fact that Muggles also tended to emit a lot of smoke. Thick as they might be, I still thought it might raise unwanted questions from their part.

I hid the cauldron as well and started undressing. Maybe I could modify the chambermaid's memory... I reflected about this for a moment and figured it might work, after all, Muggles could under no circumstances fight off a spell of that calibre. Nonetheless, it might get me into trouble with the Ministry of Magic; what if they used my magical signature to track me down? I thought about this as I pulled off my socks and put them away in my trunk, after which I took my pyjamas out of the wardrobe. I shuddered slightly as I put them on and ensconced myself in the cold duvet.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I sighed wearily. Maybe I should just tone down my use of magic as much as possible before it is too late. I wrinkled my nose, realising that my given time here was almost over, even if the Ministry (or Harry Potter) didn't manage to tail me. The Dark Lord would get really impatient if I didn't show him any progress I had made soon.

* * *

Potter was looking for me. I didn't know how I knew it, I just did. I felt him near whenever I dared to show myself on street but I had never managed to catch a glimpse of him ever since our encounter in Knockturn Alley. It might have been my imagination, of course but still I was convinced he had been following me around and this knowledge was exactly where I took advantage of. Or rather where I had made sure my informant took advantage of. Yes, so far everything had been going on as planned. I allowed myself a small smile as I roughly pulled the vivid red hair of the young woman opposite me. She screamed, which only caused me to pull even harder and then clap my free hand over her mouth in order to hamper her from wailing even louder. The sounds escaping her mouth now were muffled and unintelligible.

I smirked when I remembered the look on Potter's face after he'd seen what I had made my little puppet believe she saw. I had altered her brain so she had the sight of me crying somewhere in a deserted corner of Diagon Alley engraved in her memories. I almost laughed at loud at the irony of it all, Potter had seen me crying before only then he had attacked me instead of trying to comfort me and I really had been crying only the night before I had addled to poor girl's brain, only not in Diagon Alley. However, he couldn't possibly know that.

After implanting the memory I had Obliviated the recollections of all other encounters we had had over the past two weeks, but I knew that memories were never quite completely forgotten.... It was then that I realised she needed to be disposed of before she could start trumpeting my secret if she or somebody else managed to break through the Memory Charm. I captured her the next day.

I didn't need her anymore, she had served well and had giving me all the information I required so now she -

'Fuck! You filthy disgrace to the wizarding race, don't you dare to ever do that again!'

The Weasley had just bitten one of my fingers! I released her momentarily, after which I hit her hard in the face and grasped her firmly by the arm. She looked at me (or actually attempted to look at me, though she couldn't see my completely Disillusioned body) with an extreme amount of malice decipherable in her eyes that were staring somewhere right next to me.

'Let go off me, Malfoy!' she shouted, spitting in my left ear.

I lashed out at her again.

'Now listen to me very carefully, Missy,' I sneered, trying to cleanse my ear with the sleeve of my robes, 'In a few moments you'll be settled with, and don't you even dare to think for one moment anyone is going to show any mercy for a blood traitor of your kind.'

I forced her on her knees by gripping her hands behind her back in what I truly wished to be a very painful way as I impatiently pulled out my wand and tied her up. She whimpered quietly. I looked around, hoping against all odds that thus far no one had heard her. The path seemed to be deserted but nevertheless made sure I was properly hidden behind the large bush, temporarily forgetting I was more or less invisible in the first place.

A tap on my shoulder startled me. I jerked my head around and came face to face with heavily hooded figure dressed in long, black robes that resembled mine. It was astounding that even the dumbest of Death Eaters had managed to see through Invisibility Charms thanks to the Dark Lord's careful teaching.

'Did you get the note?' asked a woman's voice.

'Yes,' I hissed.

I heard a wheezy giggle and a second figure approached, also similarly dressed. I tried to keep my breath even and my actions controlled as the first figure tapped her wand on my head and I felt the odd sensation of an egg being smashed on top of it. Slowly my body came into focus again. 'When?'

Out of the blue the Weasley started screaming once more and I abruptly silenced her with my wand, not taking my eyes of Alecto and Amycus Carrow, who were still standing in front of me. I could tell they were eager for me to answer, even though they refused to show it. Everything I said now would be briefed to the Dark Lord right away, I knew. He obviously also wanted to know how everything was evolving or else he wouldn't have agreed to allow them to come and fetch my, by now completely useless, spy.

'Tomorrow evening.' I managed to keep my voice even. 'By the time Big Ben hits eleven I'll be enjoying the Order's hospitality and will have supposedly joined their forces.'

The squat woman's eyes grew wide when she heard this and I rolled my eyes at her stupidity.

'Supposedly,' I jeered, impatience and annoyance ringing through my voice. 'Now hurry up before those Muggle please-men will start to meddle in.'

'We don't have to take orders from a kid like you!' Amycus sneered. I quirked an eyebrow in response but didn't trust myself to speak, knowing I'd probably lose my temper if I did. Our master did not approve of internal conflicts. I levitated the Weasley's body instead and saw her crying out desperately, without any sound escaping her mouth; she looked like some sort of freckled fish with her mouth opening and closing like that. I smirked.

'Here, take her.'

The other Death Eaters did as they were told and I saw Ginny Weasley whiten in pain when the woman cast the Cruciatus Curse on her. It was a pleasure to my eyes to see a Weasley suffer like that.

* * *

It was near morning by the time I managed to catch sleep that night. My head hurt slightly and unfortunately I didn't have anything to distract me. I lay awake for hours, staring at the darkness enshrouding me as seconds slowly passed by. I knew that in a couple of hours I was going to be awakened by the annoying tapping sound of the Daily Prophet delivery, after which I would probably start getting all keyed up ready for my 'great performance' that evening.

Quite frankly, I felt awful. I spent a lot of time assuring myself of the fact that everything was going to be alright, but in the meantime, a feeling of dread spread itself through my veins like some sort of venom. What if I couldn't do it?

I pushed away the thought and started picking bits of fluff from my duvet. After a while, this also started to bore me and I got back to staring at the ceiling. The tiniest bit of light was already fighting its way through the window and I knew it would be dawn soon, even though I had hardly closed an eye over the night. I was both physically and psychologically exhausted but still my spirit refused to give in to the temptation to sleep.

I swallowed back the nerves and forced my eyes to remain shut, while I tried to keep my mind as blank as humanly possible. I heard my own reassuring voice echoing inside my head, accompanied with the shushing sounds my mother used to make when I was younger. Images flashed constantly in front my eyes, like pictures being shown at a very fast pace, but only until the images turned into blurry shadows and everything went black.

By the time I woke up again the sun was already blazing through the window and I had to blink a couple of times before the room came into focus. I groaned and turned over, facing my pillow. I heard the regular tapping of what I assumed to be an owl against the window but I refused to leave the warmness of my bed for now, feeling tired and slightly sick at the stomach at the same time. Excellent, what a perfect day to be ill... I thought miserably, but I knew my current situation could be put down to the increasing nerves racing through my body at the prospect of tonight's task.

Eventually, I did get up. Dizzily, I made my way towards the window. I opened it, seizing the Daily Prophet and putting two Knuts into the leather satchel tied to the bloody owl's leg. I put the Prophet face down on the table and hunted for some towels and fresh clothes in my wardrobe. Then, I drowsily stumbled over to the door, crossed the hall and entered the bathroom. I was lucky no one else was in there, because I had forgotten to knock.

My gaze lingered momentarily on the wet floor and heap of used towels lying in a corner of the room. Wonderful, I thought ironically. There probably won't even be any hot water left thanks to the stupid nitwit who had used the bathroom before me. I closed the door behind my back, realising the lock wasn't working properly. I cursed but undid my pyjama trousers and top anyway, after which I turned on the rusty tap in the shower cubicle. Every time my bare feet hit the floor a splashing sound could be heard as it resounded loudly against what had once been white tiles. I was lucky, after about a minute of impatient waiting and trembling the water turned warm and I got into the shower.

After the shower I felt considerably better. I readjusted the usual sneer on my face as I strutted out of the hotel half an hour later, yearning for a cup of coffee. I had hastily grasped the Daily Prophet as I had left my hotel room without giving it so much as a glance. It was only now I came to think of the fact that Muggles find it slightly peculiar, after all, I had heard Muggle pictures did not move.

I considered this for a moment and when I passed a small newspaper kiosk, I halted and quickly examined the displayed papers. I pulled a face, trying to imprint the image in my head while promptly ignoring the salesman who obviously thought I was interested in buying one of his preposterous items.

I waited until I was in a deserted alleyway before I unfolded the Daily Prophet, pointed my wand at it and charmed it so it looked like a Muggle newspaper to everyone else. I admired my work as I could vaguely define the outlines of the way it looked for outsiders with great, flourishing headlines that shouted about things I didn't know anything of. Excellent.

I chose to go to the Starbucks café thingy again like I had done almost every day over the past fortnight. The two employees that had helped me out first time were standing behind the counter again and I saw one of them nudging the other in the ribs when he saw me approaching. I cleared my throat.

'For me a -'

'- coffee. We know.' The man cocked an eyebrow at me while the other one smugly put a cup underneath one of those curious machines against the wall.

I snorted, affronted by their rudeness. As if they were smarter than me! Annoyed, I paid for the cup of coffee as he handed it to me and sat down in a corner of the room. Some of the Muggles sitting spread in the room eyed me inquisitively as I took out the Daily Prophet and sipped from my coffee. I unfolded my paper, shooting the people watching me a nasty glare over the brim.

However, I was soon distracted from their discourteous behaviour when I lowered my gaze and caught sight of the front page. Holy crap! I choked on the coffee I had been drinking, spitting it all over the cover as I did. My eyes started watering as I was caught in a coughing fit, which seemed to attract attention from everyone present; I heard some of them sniggering openly at my misfortune but didn't really care at that precise moment.

I stared incredulously at the major headline, trying to get my breath even. The idiots had killed the Weasley girl, it said so black on white! Boggled, I kept my gaze locked on the paper as my mouth dropped lightly open in utter bewilderment. I felt an odd sort of tug inside my guts and a feeling I didn't immediately recognise crept over me. Only yesterday I had captured her and thereby sealed her fate... I knew it would happen, but not that soon. Ginny Weasley was dead.

I got up, dropping my cup of coffee and hurrying outside, in a desperate need for fresh air. I ignored the coffee servers, who were calling after me, and made my way through the crowd walking on the pavement. They all looked so careless and utterly oblivious to everything occurring in front of their very eyes.

It wasn't like I actually cared about the Weasley girl, not at all really, but still it was thanks to me she had been killed, which indirectly turned me into a killer. A shiver ran down my spine. I didn't quite get why I made such a fuss about that, after all I would have been a killer after tonight anyway.

Again, I felt uncomfortable thinking about the prospect and decided not to press the matter for now. It would all work out just fine.

All in all, evening came far too quickly and by the time the sun had started its descent I knew I had no more time to lose. It was now or never, I realised as I packed my trunk, placing it carefully on the bed and making sure there were no remains of the potion I had finished brewing earlier. If everything worked out as planned, Potter or someone else would come to pick up my things once I had infiltrated and I had to make sure nothing suspicious could be found while they were at it. Obviously, they would not allow me to ever leave their side again without supervision.

I left the hotel after that, without paying the bill. The Dark Lord's plan - my plan - would be discovered if they found out I had taken care of all that beforehand. I cast a last glance at the stupid Muggle hotel I surely wouldn't miss, wherever I'd spend the night from now on couldn't be any worse than this plebeian shack. Although... I took a deep breath and with assertive paces I walked for about another five minutes before I Disapparated.

I peered around the street, taking in my surroundings as I tried to ignore my madly thumping heart and unsteady breathing. Everything was going to be alright, I assured myself. I sped up my pace, while in my mind I kept going over the scheme I had worked out not so very long ago. I would enter the house by force and then, taking advantage of the surprise effect, kill her without another word being said. Yes, I'd do it that way. No painful confrontations, no redeeming, no nothing... just me murdering Mrs Zabini.

My hand travelled over to the pocket of the plain black robes I was wearing, where I could find the reassuring form of two small bottles resting inside it, one filled with a Lunacy Philtre and the other one with a Calming Draught. I inhaled deeply, nervously clasping and unclasping my hands.

After a couple or so more minutes of walking, my destination came into view while I passed house after house and seconds seemed to last an eternity. The Zabinis appeared to be living in a nice, peaceful neighbourhood with big houses and rambling lawns, here and there still covered with some remains of snow that had fallen over the past few days. The sky was slowly changing into a darker shade of blue and orange.

Momentarily my gaze lingered on a scruffy-looking Muggle who was passing by. He eyed me warily when he hurriedly crossed the street and trotted out of sight as he turned the corner at the end of the street. Perfect, I thought. Eye-witnesses were crucial for once, bearing in mind that I actually needed to look like an amateur.

A car drove by at a tediously slow speed, emitting lots of whitish smoke, which stank like hell. Distantly, I heard a crack and I smirked silently. They were already here then, though on first sight it looked as if the street were completely deserted. I nervously glanced around the place as I climbed over a low wall and stepped unto the grass in front of number twenty-seven, which would have been alike all the other houses, if it hadn't been for the for the fact that I knew there were wizards living in here. With clammy hands I took out my wand, aiming it on the house in front of which I was standing.

'Morsmordre,' I screamed and immediately a vast, green and glittering skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue appeared out of thin air. It soared upwards until it was floating about two feet above the rooftop. I gulped and tucked my wand away again. This was it then....

Gingerly, I pushed the doorbell, my hands trembling as I did so and coming to realise I was having second thoughts about the plan I had thought up earlier, after which I saw a light being switched on in the hall that was visible through the porch window. A dark figure made its way through the hall, I saw and I hastily readjusted my expression to one of utmost haughtiness. My nerves were racing.

The door creaked open and Blaise's face appeared in the opening; I couldn't deny that wasn't a blow. I hadn't expected him to be at home. Or rather, I had hoped he wouldn't be at home. 'Yes?' he asked, his features hardening when he saw it was me standing on the threshold. 'Oh, it's you,' he said disdainfully. 'What do you want?'

It was almost indecent to be standing here, facing him, while the last time I had seen him had been right before I had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts at the end of last term. How he had dared to minimise my role in the Dark Lord's plan back then! But now, six months later, he did seem to be taking my presence seriously though he didn't show it just yet. The tension was almost touchable.

'To talk,' I sneered simply. 'We might even be able to work a compromise.'

'I highly doubt so.' And before I could say another word, he began to close the door. In a reflex action, I put my foot in the gap between the frame and the door, flinching when the two collided hard.

'For fuck's sake!' In one swift gesture I took my wand out and forced the door open by magic. I saw Blaise cowering back slightly as he cast fearful glances at the door behind his back, which would obviously lead to the kitchen or the living room. I looked him provocatively in the eye as I pointed my wand at his throat as if it were a sword. He looked about as scared as I was feeling at that precise moment. 'Give me a reason, Zabini, and I'll do it without giving it so much as a second thought.'

Bluff, of course. Only he didn't know that. I tightened the grip around my wand and tried to imagine killing him. I couldn't and it struck me that I wouldn't even have been able to finish him off if he had struggled. I narrowed my eyes at this thought and tried to look as menacing as I could muster as I pushed him backwards with my free hand, trying to win time.

'Get back, Zabini,' I snarled. He did, just when Mrs Zabini entered the hall from the door on the other side, she seemed to get the weightiness of the situation immediately as I saw her eyes widen in fear and she fumbled nervously for her wand in the subtly hidden pocket of her fine dress robes. Had she planned on leaving, then? I decided I didn't care as I momentarily pointed my wand at her and shouted 'Stupefy!'

That had been unnervingly easy, I concluded when I forced Blaise backwards with my wand while he kept casting fearful glances at his mother. Detachedly, I smirked at his desperation. Maybe this was going to work out after all, I considered when he fell over the motionless form of his mother in his hurry to cower back. He scrabbled up, for the first time actual panic was identifiable in his eyes.

He bumped into the table that was standing in the middle of the living room. I looked around and saw it was decorated in modern, yet stylish fashion. 'Petrificus Totalus,' I said. Zabini stiffened and collapsed onto the floor after hitting the table with a sickening thud. Now he was unable to move anything but his eyes and I wondered idly why I had chosen to use this spell instead of something more daring.

I was distracted by a warm, reddish glow shining through the window all of a sudden and when glanced around I saw pools of a wonderful light the sun only managed to produce around sunset on the floor, dividing the room into several areas and casting long-stretched shadows. Tearing my gaze away from the scene, I fought off the feeling that had started growing from the moment I had passed the threshold.

Blaise still lay immobilised at my feet, his usually smooth, black hair was tousled and lay spread all over his face while his eyes followed my movements anxiously. Our gazes locked and I knew this was the moment I had been waiting for, if I didn't do it now I'd regret it forever. Kill him. This simple, two-worded sentence kept repeating itself over and over again in my mind as I tried to muster the crucial feeling of intense hatred one needed to commit the deed. His eyes were wide and fearful.

My wand was shaking badly in my hand and I forced myself to concentrate on my task, but nevertheless found myself thinking about his mother who lay paralysed in the door opening and subconsciously imagine my mother lying in her place, frail and pale and with her blond hair shimmering in the evening light. The trembling got worse. I wouldn't want her to die like that; I didn't want her to die at all. I wouldn't want to die for her to witness it either.

Panic crept over me and I screamed, dropping my wand and stumbling backwards, almost tripping over my own feet as I did. I screamed even louder and by now I was actually running, not wondering about where to go but just rushing past things I couldn't make out in the hectic blur that followed.

The next thing I knew, I felt the soil under my feet change into a harder material which I assumed to be asphalt. Distantly, I heard people screaming and the sound of a car tooting and then backfiring against something solid. I refused to stop as I saw jets of light were nearly missing me and I turned a corner until I suddenly crashed into something vast. I fell over, unaware of what was going on, and landing on something hard and yet squashy at the same time.

I heard even more voices and I clasped my hands over my ears, while bewilderedly staring around. I was panting and with every breath I took a sharp pain cut through my body like a knife.

Someone slapped me hard in the face and slowly my surroundings came into focus while I felt a throbbing pain in the back of my head. I gasped when I recognised the face that was hovering only about five inches from me. It didn't take me too long to acknowledge the messy black hair, round glasses and bright green eyes. Harry Potter had not let me down, only why then did I suddenly feel very afraid instead of proud of achieving what once had been my goal.