Search Home Read Write Forum Login Register
Chapter 2 When Avalon reached Old Malfoy Manor, he stumbled out of the fireplace onto an old worn rug. The place was huge. He supposed he had come out in the dungeons, since all was stone, and damp, and cold. In one of the cells, there was a big letter ‘M’ with a dragon coiled around the shield. Many people were in here, all looking down-rodden and insane. They looked at him with blank eyes, and the people who did look remotely sane banged on their cell walls and transparent door, moaning autibly. A few even tried to speak. When he reached the end of the dungeons, Avalon saw a man that looked very familiar. The man's face was clean-shaven, and had a healthy look about him. He was wearing black clothes, and looked like wealthy He had white-blonde hair that came down to the top of his collar. The man was leaning against the back of the cell, eyes closed and sword in hand. The man opened his eyes and looked at Avalon for a second, surveying him, then asked suspiciously, “Avalon?” “Yes, who are you?” Suddenly the man brightened, and crawled to the front of the cell. “Avalon, it’s your uncle, Draco. Remember me?” He looked at him then it clicked. “Uncle Malfoy?” Draco glared at Avalon, and then Avalon narrowed his eyes guardedly. “If you really are my uncle, tell me something about me that he would only know.” Draco smirked, then said, “I know that when I come and visit you when your parents are away, you use the Imperious curse on the spiders you find.” “Nope, you could ask my step-sister, Basil. She could tell you that I do it all the time.” Draco scowled at his nephew for a second then thought again. “What about the time you put lying potion in your Aunt Ginny’s after dinner, when we visited in April?” Avalon’s light complexion tinged a little bit, and Draco knew he had hit the mark. “Okay, now that you know it really is me, can you please get me out of this cell?” Avalon smirked, then took out a pick and unlocked the door. Draco stared at him for a second before Avalon sneered, “Well are you going to come or am I going to have to drag you up the steps to get some floo powder?” Draco closed his mouth then followed the black-haired boy. When they reached the top of the winding staircase, they came to a small storage room. Inside they found loads of armory and swords and every stored medieval relics' imaginable, but no floo powder. But before they left, Draco grabbed a sword and handed it to Avalon. “You know how to duel with swords, right?” Avalon nodded, and then they left the room. The next span they came to was the Pale Room. Draco had said it was the paper room. No luck there. Then they searched every room with a fireplace, including every inch of the ballroom, until they came to a space twice as large as the ballroom. It was a huge room with paintings of many dark-looking people lining the walls. On the ceiling was a big map, outlying every detail of the Old Malfoy Manor, and, Avalon realized, Snake Showdown Castle. “Welcome back boys,” an icy voice from behind them said. At the other side of the room, (which they were to amazed to remember there was another side) was a snake-like person sitting on a throne made of black crystal, with about 300 people in black cloaks and masks, surrounding... “Voldemort,” Avalon hissed in snake language. Draco looked at him startled at him, and Voldemort looked very, VERY surprised. Then he regained his sense of dignity, and hissed in parseltongue: “ Get them.” Two huge anaconda snakes came from the shadows and wrapped themselves around Draco and Avalon. “So,” Voldemort began, “what brings you boys to the Head Quarters of Lord Voldemort and his faithful Eaters?” Avalon just spat. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t a boy who’s not afraid to die,” Voldemort cooed venomously, stepping off his black throne. Eaters parted for him as he came to stand next to him. “Who might you be?” Avalon just spat in his face. Draco tensed beside him, and some Death Eaters raised their wands, but Voldemort shook to them to put their hands down. Voldemort then turned to Draco. “Ah, I see the traitor has escaped the dungeons. What have you to say for yourself?” “Nothing my Lord,” Draco mumbled, his head bowed. “Will you come back to my alliance? Or suffer the consequences?” Voldemort said as sweetly as he could with a strange glint in his eyes. “I will come back to you my Lord,” Draco murmured, his head still bowed. Avalon just stared dumbfounded at his uncle. He was going to be a reformed traitor to the Eaters??? What had gotten into him??? “Fine,” Lord Voldemort said, and he snapped his fingers and the anaconda disappeared. Draco bowed before him and kissed the hem of his robe. “My Lord, I am not worthy,” he murmured. Voldemort seemed to be enjoying this moment. “Tell me,” Voldemort said, as Draco was still kissing his robes and murmuring. “Tell me what the child’s name is, and why he would help you, of all people, out of the dungeons." “His name is Avalon, my Lord. And he helped me because he is a relation of mine,” Draco said. Voldemort’s red eyes flashed dangerously. “Really. Draco, my slippery friend, what relation is he to you?” “Nephew, my liege.” “Your daughter's son, I suppose. Really shameful she’s not with us anymore, could have been great… But you’ve never told me who your daughter’s husband was. The father of this child.” “Harry Potter, my Lord. The name of my sister’s husband is Harry Potter.” A/N: Okay I know this is not very good, as it’s one of my newest fics, but it will get better (hopefully). Well, hope you liked it! -RG

Track This Story: Feed


Write a Review

out of 10

JOIN HARRY POTTER FANFICTION


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!