Let's Kill Tonight ~ A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Let's Kill Tonight ~ Chapter Fourteen

The next morning came quickly, bringing with it a bitter frost that covered everything outside in a layer of crisp white and the day of Voldemort’s meeting.

Looking down at the crumpled, creased clothes that she was wearing, in a massive ceiling to floor mirror, Rebecca groaned. She’d managed to fall asleep in them last night, forgetting to change into her pyjamas. She shuffled sleepily over to her suitcase, lifted it off of the floor and threw it on the bed.

“Cistem Aperio.”

The case swung open, revealing Rebecca’s clothes, a couple of books, her collection of makeup and a few gold Galleons. She threw a green top and a colourful jumper onto the bed to find what she was looking for underneath. Her black cloak and dress. Smiling, she quickly changed into the dress. It always had been her favourite one, and despite the fact she hadn’t been sure if black was the right colour choice when she had bought it, she was glad she had. It would have been tremendously embarrassing to be sat in front of the Dark Lord in a blue knit cardigan.

The dress itself was quite plain, but had a black lace trim around the bottom edge hem which came down to Rebecca’s knees. She pulled on a pair of tights and threw her cloak around her shoulders.

She then rummaged around in her suitcase, wondering whether she’d packed enough for the 16-day-long Christmas holidays. Her fingers brushed something hard and cold. She took it out, finding it to be the thing she was looking for. Her Death Eaters mask.

~

The Drawing Room was dark and foreboding. All of the windows, that yesterday had given a glorious view of the Malfoy estate, had been covered with shutters. Shadows danced over the ominous walls, the only source of light were a few magic, wax dripping candles that had melted into strange, horrific, nightmarish shapes.

Rebecca sat rigidly on a hard chair, wrapped up in her black cloak, the hood pulled up over her head. Either side of her sat Bellatrix and Rodolphus. From across the table she could hear the chesty breathing of Augustus Rookwood. He looked absolutely terrified.

“I-I’m sorry, My Lord!” he cried out suddenly.

Voldemort, who was circling the table slowly like a vulture waiting for its prey to die, gave a cold laugh. “This isn’t good enough, Rookwood. It’s up to you to get the information we need from the Ministry.”

“I know, M-my Lord. It’s been h-harder than anticipated.”

Rebecca watched as Voldemort’s anger furthered. He hissed furiously, causing Augustus Rookwood to flinch. “You’re dangling from a noose, Augustus. You failed to retrieve the prophecy last year, and if you are unsuccessful at getting any vital information we need, then that rope might just tighten around that neck of yours.”

Rookwood swallowed loudly. “B-but My Lord...” he stammered. “I’m the one who brought you Rosewood’s prophecy! I’m the one who helped you to find her!”

Rebecca tried to remain poker faced as Voldemort’s red, cat-slit eyes turned to her. The other Death Eaters did the same, everyone around the table looking at her. Everyone but Draco.

In a blink of an eye, Voldemort was behind her. “The girl shall not fear the darkness, but instead make it stronger,” he half smiled, reciting Rebecca’s prophecy.

She shuddered as he put his cold hand on her shoulder, his long, bone white fingers in complete contrast with her midnight black cloak.

A dozen images suddenly flashed through Rebecca’s head. Her and Snape’s first meeting at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger telling her how much she disliked Ron Weasley, Harry confessing to her that he hated the fact Hermione and Ron weren’t talking.