Twisted Tales

There was something strange about the house. Maybe it was the way the windows were shut tight, looking glued together, when they were always open during the day, even in winter. Maybe it was the fact that the curtains behind them were moving, as if there was a breeze inside. Her instincts kicked in and she felt chills down her spine. Bracing herself, she walked to a window and looked inside. There was nothing seemingly wrong, so she went to the door and put a hand on the handle.

Her eyes flew open as the surge of energy reached her brain, having gone through her left arm. She was clutching the wand in the other hand so tightly, her knuckles were white. She couldn't remember taking the wand out of her pocket, but she didn't care in the slightest. She turned the knob and looked warily inside. Again, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. It took all her will-power to take her hand off the knob and step inside the house. The door closed behind her.

Her head flew around and she felt her heart beating into her ribs. She shuddered and slowly directed her attention back towards the house. She stood motionless, three feet away from the door, listening for the slightest sound that might come from the house. It was completely silent, which made her shudder again. Her parents were supposed to be there, having just returned from work. She took another step.

By this time, she had convinced herself, not without difficulty, that the door had closed because of the light breeze. As the breeze itself was inexplicable, this wasn't entirely calming, but it was better than the other explanations. At least, it was somewhat reassuring, and she could focus on other things rather than the fact that she had just been locked inside her own house. The draft couldn't keep her prisoner, she thought in a desperate attempt to clear her head.

With a resolute look and squared shoulders, she walked over to the drawing room door and found it slightly opened. It creaked when she pushed it open and she jumped back. It's just a door, you stupid girl, said a strong, sarcastic voice inside her head. She shut her eyes as tight as she could, and the voice died out.

She looked inside the room cautiously. It was empty, as she thought it would be, seeing that the whole house was completely silent. Reminding herself that she was a brave Gryffindor, she walked inside.

As she was looking around, a thought flashed through her head. There might be someone upstairs, hiding from her. Maybe a burglar, or... no, she refused to think about the other possibility. The war was raging, but the house was heavily protected by wards set by Dumbledore himself. She turned and advanced towards the bottom of the stairs in one swift move. She looked up and let out a shriek of terror.

The man sitting five feet away from her was one she knew all too well to underestimate. He had a sadistic smile as he shouted, "Stupefy!"

Out of sheer instinct, she yelled, "Protego!" This caused him to stumble backwards, but he didn't fall, as she had expected. Instead, his eyes blazing and smile gone, he hissed, "Accio wand!" Her wand flew out of her hand before she could do anything to stop it.

She turned to run, but he whispered "Petrificus Totalus!" in a dangerous tone. Her arms and legs became rigid and she fell to the floor. He carried her to the living room and placed her on the hard, wooden floor. She winced at the touch of his hands, or would've winced, had she been able to move. He settled on the couch, not before casting it a critical eye. Indeed, the couch had a flower pattern that contrasted grotesquely with his black robes.

Having settled, he placed a binding hex on her and muttered the counter-curse for the Petrificus charm. She crawled to the fireplace and leaned her back against it. She closed her eyes and turned her head to one side, unwilling to look at her captor. He noticed the move and smiled sadistically again.

"Look at me, you filthy mudblood. I want you to see who defeated you." She turned her head towards him, but didn't look at his face. She gazed fixedly at a point on the couch, in a trancelike manner.

"I said look at me," he growled in a dangerously low voice. Her eyes drifted to his face, but she seemed to be looking through him, rather than at him. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, so she closed it again.

"I bet you're wondering how you can get me to spare your life," he said in a conversational tone, but it sounded more as if he was talking to himself.

"Actually, I was wondering how long will it take for you to kill me. I am perfectly aware that you-"

"Indeed," he said, sounding pleased with the rapidity of her realisation.

"-have no intention of sparing my life," she went on unfazed. "You also have my wand." There was no sign of regret in her voice, and she sounded a lot like Luna Lovegood. He looked taken aback by her resignation, and he gazed at her quizzically.

"Aren't you concerned about your upcoming death?"

"Not in the slightest, no." She had tilted her head to a side and wore an expression of complete serenity. He furrowed his brows and shrugged.

"You Gryffindors have always been rather stupidly keen on putting yourselves out there. Like last year, in the Department of Mysteries, you were stupid enough to follow Potter into the fight with Death Eaters."

Something behind her eyes blazed when he brought up the previous summer's tragic events. He smirked smugly.

"So you aren't completely numb yet. How delightful. Did you actually think I would try to avenge my father by attacking Potter? He's too well-guarded. Not even my master is willing to attack him just yet."

She gasped as realisation dawned upon her. "You're a Death Eater! Of course, how could I not have realised by now?" Her eyes darted wildly around the flower-patterned couch. "All those mysterious departures in the middle of the night, the way you always cover your arms even if it's warm, just like Snape..." She shook her head and closed her eyes. "The ceremony was last month... you are of age..." She shuddered again at the thought. There were going to be fully-trained Death Eaters at Hogwarts this year.

He smiled again in a bitter way, all smugness gone. "Do you realise that I wouldn't have become a Death Eater had I not hated Potter and his group?" He regained his self-control and continued the previous line of thought. "I couldn't attack the Weasleys, I would've been outnumbered. You were the only one I could attack without much trouble, and please my master at the same time. He ordered us to taunt and, if possible, kill as many mudbloods as we can." He smirked smugly again. "So you see, there's no possible way for you to escape now. You know too much." His smile became vicious and sadistic again. "Just like your parents knew too much few hours earlier."

Her eyes flew open and she stared at his angel face, wondering how many people had he killed by this day. She had noticed he could see the Thestrals on the first day of the sixth year, but hadn't paid attention at the time. Now she wondered whether he had killed someone or just seen it happening.

He was staring at her, too. He wondered whether she feared him at all, whether he was as feared as his father had been. The thought of his father brought him back to his vengeance. He set his face and lifted his wand. A thought made him lower the wand again.

"Have you killed anybody before?" she asked in a small voice.

"Of course. I am a death Eater. That's what we do."

"It's sad. What happened to your father should've changed your mind about joining Voldemort."

"How dare you speak the Dark Lord's name, you filthy mudblood?" he spat loathingly.

"I do not fear death. Death is not the end of existence, but a passing towards peace. Peace is what I crave for. A few years around Harry tend to do that to a person."

At the mentioning of Harry Potter, his anger grew even further. "How dare you mention his name now?"

"I do not fear death," he repeated with the air of someone explaining something to a particularly thick-headed child. He was reminded forcefully about McGonagall. His upper lip curled.

At this point, the door was thrown open and a second man in black robes came in. he pointed his wand at Draco's heart and said, "Avada Kedavra!" the flash blinded Hermione, and Draco fell limp to the floor. She looked at the stranger, whose hood fell. She sighed, relieved to see it was a member of the Order.

"Professor, I'm so glad you came-" She fell silent when she noticed the look on his face. The same manic glint she had seen in Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes the previous year. "Uh, professor, what-"

"Shut up. The master will be pleased to see I got rid of young Malfoy; he's too soft to be a Death Eater." She shuddered and looked fearfully at Snape.

"Professor..." she whimpered. This was wrong; he was supposed to be on her side. On the Light side. But the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"Unfortunately, I arrived too late to stop him from killing you," he said in a mock regretful voice.

"Professor, wait-" The flash hit her before she got to finish her sentence. He turned on his heels and left to inform both sides of the tragic incident.