Looking up into his malicious grey eyes, I was consumed by two emotions; absolute fear and awe. Every mannerism of his implied his immense power, and capabilities that I had turned a blind eye to. I always thought he was too weak and afraid to be capable of instilling terror in anyone, especially myself, one who had grown up with his antics and became accustomed to them. That was all a façade apparently, while he mustered all of his power to make his goals a reality.
To overthrow Voldemort and become the new Dark Lord, to become Emperor of the World.
I had been in hiding with other survivors of the final battle who fought for the light side. We were living day to day, hoping we might never be found. It was of course too much to hope that one day we would become an underground secret organization that would one day have the capabilities to rise up against the Death Eaters régime. We hoped we could connect with other survivors throughout the world to create a new army for the light side. It is remarkable that no matter how desolate life may seem under the worst circumstances, as long man is not alone in his misery, he will still have hope that one day things will be better.
However, it was only a false hope because we were of course discovered. By Draco Malfoy’s own cunning of course, as he had just told me. He was the master of every plan and led every raid. I was shocked to learn of his increasing power when news leaked into our hiding spot from the outside world from time to time. He was Voldemort’s right hand man. It was all part of his plan to take over and he has almost succeeded, or so he says.
His exposure of my camp was to prove his effectiveness as a leader, to hopefully attract any Death Eaters still loyal Voldemort.
“The brightest witch of our age, Hermione Granger can’t even hide from me, but she has been able to evade Voldemort for the past four years. His plans always failed, but I have eluded failure time and time again. Voldemort was effective in the past, but he has no place in the present or the future!” he shouted to his followers, getting them pumped up for their success, when he summoned them to a meeting after the raid. They cheered for him and their victory, shouting back and pumping their fists like the mindless mob they were.
I was chained in the center of the room with dark walls and blood red carpet, pulling against my chains the entire time. Foolish, I know because I even knew at the time that those chains were never going to break, but I was so consumed by fear and anger that I could not stop. I was the prize of his genius plan, put on show so he could prove his incredible brilliance. I had eluded the Death Eaters for years with my band of survivors. I knew we could not have been easy to find, so for his cause, it was a reason for great celebration.
I was now chained in a room connected to his bedroom and had been for the past four hours. A clock was directly across from me on a small nightstand, and time was moving painfully slow. I only knew the room was connected to Malfoy’s bedroom because when Malfoy finally came in, I had a glimpse of a grand bed, possibly bigger than any normal king sized bed. He could be the only person in the house with such a big bed; he would only buy the best for himself. Still, it seemed strange for a single man to have such a large bed. The room I was chained in was a bedroom also, but surprisingly pleasant with light green carpet and white walls. The furniture was elegant and made of a light colored wood. The room had a sense of peacefulness, which was in complete contrast to the rest of the Malfoy Manor which was dark and cold.
“This was my mother’s second bedroom and study when she was alive. She always came here when she fought with my father,” was the first thing Malfoy said in a shockingly polite tone when he entered the room. I was surprised to hear anything remotely personal about his family come from his mouth, especially in a pleasant tone directed towards me. But his musing did not last long and no more than a second passed before he began glaring at me and divulging his master plans of world domination, sharing with me all of his success thus far, proving his great power.
I wanted to hurt him, lash out at him cruelly for what he had done to me and the others he found me with, but I was to exhausted from struggling so hard the entire night to even speak when he came in. The cold metal cuff around my wrist was bruising me, but I’ll be damned if I make any complaint in front of him. In my weakened state, now was not the time for mundane complaints about a bruised wrist. I had certainly had worse before, especially earlier tonight. By the time I arrived at the Malfoy Manor, I was bleeding and bruised all over. I was shocked when he ordered Theodore Nott to heal me.
“I don’t want her dirtying my chambers more than I can help it,” he said disgustedly to Nott.
I expected he would have liked to have me sitting in my own filth and pain, despite his desire for a clean house. He always liked making me uncomfortable or causing me pain, and leaving the infinite wounds I had amassed throughout the night unhealed would have caused more pain than I could imagine.
“I understand,” Nott replied to this request simply, but gave him a strange look before taking me from the room; clearly confused by the fact I had not been killed flat out like everyone else they found. Malfoy gave him a slight nod and a meaningful look, inferring that he would explain everything to him later. Nott knew better than to ask about anything in front of the rest of the group. While in hiding, I had learned that Nott and Blaise Zabini were Malfoy’s right hand men and most loyal supporters. Not body guards, although they would certainly die for him, but they were his only friends and the only people he knew he could trust. They have known of his plans to take over from the beginning and supported him the whole way through. It is a good thing neither is the jealous type or power hungry enough to challenge Malfoy. Many people would get jealous if someone so close to them gained so much power with no intention of sharing it. Perhaps it was simply they understood his immense power and if they tried to stand up to him, they would undoubtedly perish. Whatever their relationship is, they are the only two people Malfoy treats like equals.
He was now standing over me, telling me his ambitions and how he has almost succeeded in getting everything he has ever wanted.
“Now all I need to do is find where Voldemort and his few remaining followers are hiding. It won’t be too long now,” he finished wistfully with a glint in his eyes. He was pacing in front of me, sharing and contemplating his dark plans.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked exasperatedly, interrupting for the first time in his long rant, finding the will to try and get under his skin. I was in no position to be so frank with him, but I could not help it. I was looking to argue with him the way we used to in school and I knew my talking would irritate him. Through arguing, I could regain some of my pride at being diminished to a prisoner.
“Be quiet Granger. Your questions are ruining my scheming here,” he replied turning his calculating eyes on me.
“Well you’re the one that’s keeping me here. It’s your own fault your ludicrous fantasy is being ruined.”
“If you would shut your mouth when I told you to, there wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Maybe not for you. Why am I here?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said smugly. He is so childish sometimes.
“Well umm…yes, I would like to know. That is why I asked,” I responded as though I was speaking to someone mentally deficient.
He turned from patronizing to cold in an instant.
“Don’t give me any of your attitude Granger. You wouldn’t if you know what’s good for you. Would you rather be dead like the rest of your lot?” he snarled.
“I’d rather be dead than be chained prisoner here in your God forsaken house!” I lashed out, acting braver than I felt. I have always been proud of by ability to summon courage when threatened or in the face of danger, when I really only wanted to shy away from any confrontations.
“I’m sure you would Granger. Foolish Mudblood,” he said tersely, “But I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?” I was sincerely irritated. He had no trouble killing countless others, but he could not kill me. Not that I was exactly pinning for death, but what kind of logic is that?
“That is for me to know, not you. Anyways, it looks like Nott healed you nicely and I hope you thanked him for that. He’s really very good at healing. But there is really nothing for us to discuss at the moment so I think I’m about done here,” he said amused at my irritation.
He squatted down directly in front of me and grabbed my chained wrist roughly, making me gasp in pain, for the bruise that had formed beneath the cuff of the chain. He pulled out his wand and put it into the hole where a key would normally go and released me from the chain. I felt such a relief in my wrist as the chain fell away, but was disappointed to see that it there was already a dark bruise there.
“Now listen to me Granger,” he said as he stood up, “the only rooms you can go into are your bathroom and my room. Don’t even try leaving this room through any other door because it won’t work. I have wards set up so that you can only be in this room, your bathroom, and my bedroom. Also only I can enter your room, except the house elves of course. And don’t get any ideas about trying to kill me in my sleep. Any time you enter my room, my wand sets off an alarm only I can hear. Same thing goes if you try to kill yourself too; however, I hope you are above that decision.”
He strode quickly to the door and as he opened it, without turning around, or waiting for a response, he said, “Goodnight Granger,” and shut the door quickly behind him.