Chapter 24: Malfoy Manor Part III

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I was lucky to have Draco help support me as we stood before the one I've known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And by support me, I mean literally support me- for the appearance of the Dark Lord was even more fearsome than I had imagined. I had heard of his mask-like face and sallow, blue skin, and the abyss-like pupils the shape of a cat's. But seeing him sitting on a couch in the Malfoy's parlor almost made me expunge the meal I had just eaten. A man with facial features resembling a rodent's was standing at his side, and he was almost equally as gruesome-looking. The last presence in the room was an admittedly beautiful snake that was wrapping itself through and around the legs of the sofa, and although it also made me afraid, I imagined how I would paint every detailed, glistening scale.

"Draco," The Dark Lord rasped, his voice breathy, "Thank you for bringing your guest. It is always nice seeing a... fresh face."

I could feel Draco's heartbeat increase through the shared contact of our linked arms. My own pulse wasn't anything short of frantic, either. Blood roared in my ears as the Dark Lord scanned me with his red stare.

"I've heard a few things of you, companion of Draco," the Dark Lord addressed me. He did not use my name; I didn't think I was important enough for him to remember. "It seems Draco has trusted you with sensitive information regarding the task I have given him. My curiosity as to who this...person could be overcame me. I requested your presence to ensure you could be trusted."

"She can," Draco said insistently. Despite the breathiness in his voice, he definitely seemed confident. Was Draco that good of an actor, or did he actually believe that a half-Squib like me could be trusted with Death Eater business?

The Dark Lord ignored Draco and spoke to me again. Bone-chillingly, he asked, "Is it true you do not know of your lineage?"

"That's incorrect, sir," Draco answered for me. "She is of pure blood." He delivered it so believably that I was finding it hard to remind myself that he was telling the Dark Lord a huge lie.

"I'd like to hear the girl speak for herself," the ratman commented. Draco scowled, his stiff jaw turning to me slightly. His arm tightened into a vice-like grip around mine.

Somehow finding my voice, I croaked, "I-I have never known my father."

The dark wizard's eyes were alight with intrigue. "What if I told you, Erica Thorncroft, that I could show you your father, right here and now?"

My blood ran cold. "What?" I whispered. My father was in New York. I was absolutely certain of that. But now that I heard The Dark Lord speak my full name, I was thrown off.

The Dark Lord said in a near-hiss, "It is of utmost importance that Draco's plan not be compromised. Vow to me that you will never speak of his plan, and I will reveal your father to you."

I looked to Draco, who looked pale. His lips were pulled taut into a line, and he was unable to give me any guidance one way or another. It should be no problem for me, a supposed pureblood, to agree to these conditions. But if they did somehow have my real father here, he and I would both certainly be tortured and killed, and Draco would be punished for hiding a half-Squib. I couldn't tell right from wrong anymore- it was a real-life Schrodinger's Cat situation.

I have to know if he has my father here. Even if it means I have to swear my discretion to the Dark Lord.

I faced forward once more. "You have my word." My voice wavered, and was weak. I thought I might throw up.

The Dark Lord and his assistant smiled. "Very good." The rat-like assistant scurried from the room, returning quickly with a man not far in age from my father. But to my relief, it was not him.

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