Non Sequitur

Chapter 1: The Task

february 9 1999

Using Dark magic had a plethora of consequences, and not just legally. It affected a wizard's magical core, his wand, and eventually his physical appearance. He changed, if subtly, to reflect the disfigurement of his soul.

So it was natural that the darkest wizard in magical history would look so... altered. He had paper-grey skin; slits for a nose, if it could be called a nose at all; most horrifically, his eyes (which were slanted, like a snake's) gleamed murky red. Not only that, but shadows seemed to seep from corners to cling to their master. It gave the effect of him appearing more ghoul than human at times, his robes cloaking him in an unnatural darkness.

Draco suppressed a shudder. Stand tall, he told himself. You're a Malfoy, one of the oldest, purest bloodlines in wizarding society. Malfoys don't cower.

But every natural instinct within him was urging him to do just that—hands trembling, an unbidden line of sweat down the side of his face. It didn't matter what the subject matter was. Draco was trapped in a room with the most powerful wizard in the world, someone who he had already failed once, and there was nothing he could do.

So his fear was validated. Still, Draco cursed his cowardice.

"Draco," said the Dark Lord. "Come, stand in front of me."

Commanding his knees not to shake, Draco obeyed. His gaze stayed firmly fixed on the floor.

"Do you know why I first brought you into my inner circle? A group normally reserved for my closest followers—those who I knew would never turn against me?"

Draco fumbled for a moment. "I—" he swallowed. "I don't know, sir."

"You don't know?" Draco could almost sense the crimson eyes narrowing. "Please, take a guess."

Draco knew that there were no right answers. The sweat trickled from the side of his face to slip onto his neck. "My f-father was loyal to you."

"Ha!" The Dark Lord laughed. The sound was chilling. "Lucius... oh, Lucius. Such a coward. He failed me countless times. Yet still, I show mercy."

He was suddenly in front of Draco, his cold, thin fingers lifting up his chin so that Draco was forced to look into his eyes. "Mercy, Draco. That is what got you in. Now, I give you a chance to redeem yourself again."

"Thank you, my lord," said Draco. His words sounded hollow. He forced a more grateful tone. "I—I don't deserve your mercy, my lord."

"Yet even I have limited patience, boy." The Dark Lord settled on his throne again. His slits narrowed further. "Your family has failed me far too many times. I want to make myself clear, boy. This is your last chance."

Draco could almost tangibly feel the Dark Lord's cold gaze burning into him. "What is my task?"

"There is a spy in my inner circle." The words sent a chill of horror down Draco's spine. What if he had somehow concluded that he was the spy? Was this what he had asked Draco to stay behind for? "Someone is feeding information to the Order of fools, and I want you to find him. I want you to bring him to me. I won't have some disgusting creature infiltrating my ranks, a traitor to my noble cause."

Draco allowed himself to feel a moment of relief. But he had nothing to go off of, no leads, no suspects. He honestly had no idea how he was going to accomplish this.

But damn, he could not afford to fail again.

"Is there... is there someone you suspect, my lord?"