Chapter 8 : The Travel, The Truth, The Snitch
| ||Rating: 12+||Chapter Reviews: 2|
Background: Font color:
Disclaimer: Oh God, I'd love not to own my OC's right now...but, damn it, I do. I hate this chapter. I hate it with a burning passion. *growls* Keep reading...if you dare...
The man stood up. He hadn't lost it all. He would find them. He would find them, and tell them the truth. He crouched low in his cave and crept slowly out. He squinted slightly in the darkness, unable to see where he was, or where he was headed. Giving his eyes a few seconds to adjust, he then began to make his way slowly around the forest. The trees were like tall, hulking men, their leaves twisting in effort to catch a glimpse of him. The grass beneath him was slick and rocky, and generally invisible to his eyes in the dead of night.
He stumbled along, groping at the rough bark of the dark blue trees in an attempt to keep his balance. He moved through it with some difficulty: the already ripping and filthy robes he wore tore further as he walked along in brambles and bushes, and were further dirtied when he tripped over an unseen fallen log into the damp, gritty grass.
He traveled for hours, stumbling over boulders and tripping over trees. As dawn approached, the great figures that were tress lightened into a light shade of brown, and he could see the ground clearly. The pale gray-red light reflected off the highest, damp leaves on the tallest of the trees and onto those of others, causing the few patches of sunlight he saw to be a glimmering green-red.
However; the man did not stop to look upon his beautiful surroundings: he had to get there. He knew where his child was, and that was where he was headed. With the thought of the only thing he had ever loved in his head, he pressed on, harder and more heartily than ever before. He did not look back, and he did not care whether he was going the right way or not. If he could just get there -
He entered a clearing. He could Disapparate here. It would be easy enough. He had not done so in so long, he did not like to think what could happen if he Disapparated in a crowded area. So, he closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and pop! he disappeared.
When he reappeared, he was staring at a cast-iron gate with two winged boars on each side. He walked up to the gates, shook them, and was thrown backwards. He was undeterred: he ran around to the left of the gate, and came upon a dense wood he recognized very well. He was reluctant to enter, but did. He edged along the side, and came out on the lawn of a large castle. He walked straight up to the castle's oak front doors and promptly opened them.
He was greeted by warmth like he had never felt, and half a dozen torches blazing brightly in welcoming. Hesitantly, he walked to the left and to a second massive set of doors. He gently pushed one open. There was a small crowd eating breakfast that Saturday morning. But there was one boy in particular. He had blonde hair and steel gray eyes, and was relatively tall. He was a seventeen-year-old Slytherin, playing with his sausage absently.
The man entered this room, his head down, not wanting anyone to recognize him. Whether anyone did or not, he was not sure; a murmur broke out as he walked past, and he distinctly heard his name being whispered by a group of girls. If he had been recognized, was it good...or bad? He chanced a glance upward. Surprisingly, the only person not looking at him was the blonde boy at the end of the Slytherin table.
"Clisk..." he whispered, but still, the boy did not look up. "Clisk!" he hissed, and the boy took a bite of sausage.
"Sir!" yelled a panic-stricken voice from behind him. He turned his head sideways and looked out of the corner of his eye to see a black-haired man running up to him.
"What do you want?" he growled, staring at the person approaching him.
The person behind him coughed loudly. "Malfoy!" he whispered urgently. "Draco Malfoy!"
"What of it? I am here to see my son, whom I have not seen in six months," the man said, and he turned and went to the Slytherin table. As he sat down next to the boy, neither of them spoke.
"Clisk..." the man said in a monotone, "it has been too long."
Clisk shook his head unbelievingly. "I took up your job as Death Eater," Clisk said so quiet that the only possible person that could have heard him was his father, staring fixedly at his plate, "and you come back?"
Draco frowned guiltily. "I'm sorry. Suej Galagarra - "
Clisk looked sharply at him. "Don't blame your disappearance on him. He has been like a father to me!"
"What?" Draco said, clearly revolted.
"You heard me!" he yelled so loud that everyone that had not been staring was now. "A father! Something you know nothing about!"
Clisk jumped off his bench, and the black-haired man came up to them. "Is there a problem here, Mr. Malfoy?"
"None of your ruddy business," he muttered, and left the Great Hall.
Draco was after him in an instant. Though he did not know it, so was Remus Lupin, James Black, Jervie Potter, and Jordyn Weasley.
"CLISK!" he yelled at the top of his voice. "CLISK MALFOY! HERE! NOW!"
Obediently, his son turned. "You know, Father?" he said with a faint grin. "I was supposed to pick up where you left off. I was supposed to kill Jordyn Weasley to get to her father. Why? Because he is Harry Potter's best - "
"ENOUGH!" came the voice of Jordyn.
Both Malfoys turned around. Clisk gaped at her in utter horror.
"You know, Malfoy? I really liked you," Jordyn spat, stepping closer to them, despite the terrible looks her mates gave her. "But now, you've proved that you only followed me around for the past week because Lord Whatsit told you to? I'm going to go straight to Professor McGonagall. You know, Malfoy, the Headmistress? She'll be very delighted to tell my grandfather about the whole incident. You do know who my grandfather is, don't you? Yeah...he's Minister of Magic..." she then turned on heel and walked straight back into the Great Hall.
She arrived seconds later with an elderly witch behind her. She smiled nastily at Draco and Clisk, who were both horror-struck. "Well, well...it looks like the both of you are about to join Mr. Lucius Malfoy..."
A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! VERY SORRY! I hate this chapter with all of my heart, but I wanted to end it. I may come up with a bit more later, if I ever get around to it. But for right now, it's finished.
Other Similar Stories
Curing A Craving
The Boy Who ...