Title: Eyes of the Chosen
Author: Emcee
Summary: A servant gives Draco a terrifying look at the future.
Author's Note: Thank-you to my muses, Rae and Fre and my beta and Pablo.
This story is AU to "Order of the Phoenix". It is the sequel to Labyrinth
of Illusion.
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and the characters, places and things
related to it do not belong to me. They are from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling.
They belong to her and her publishers. I am not making any profit from this
fan fiction.
CHAPTER TWO
Loyalties
Malfoy Manor wasn't so much a home as it was a museum.
It was very cold and very pristine. It was not the type of place a normal young
boy could grow up comfortably.
Then, Draco Malfoy was anything but a normal young boy. He had never felt the
need to rush around the house, threatening to knock over the vases balanced
precariously on thin pedestals. If he ever had a need to indulge the whims of
a young boy, he went outside.
His parents were big collectors. Narcissa Malfoy had antique mirrors on almost
every wall; all silver with delicately carved serpents winding around the frames.
She also had a fondness for crystal: Crystal dragons and snakes that sat in
the windowsills, catching the sunlight. Her favourite bit of crystal was her
goblet, which was almost always at her side.
Lucius Malfoy's collections were of more interest to Draco. Of course, the most
intriguing of his "collectibles" were kept in a spell-locked cupboard;
those that had not been sold off when the Ministry of Magic was doing their
raids.
Lucius was very fond of weaponry, both Wizard and Muggle. When Draco had asked
his father about the Muggle broadswords kept on his study wall, Lucius had simply
replied with: "If there is one thing Muggles can be applauded for, it is
the creative ways they have found to kill each other."
Draco could not argue with that logic.
Most bizarrely, Lucius loved collecting one thing more than all others. He prided
it above his snake statues, his weapons and dark artefacts.
Lucius Malfoy loved to collect people.
Even before their House-Elf had been freed, Lucius had this strange obsession.
They had so many human servants Draco didn't even know what they all did. After
that damn Potter had tricked Lucius into freeing the elf, the obsession had
grown. He acquired more people.
Oh, they were all wizards. Lucius Malfoy would never dare have a Muggle or Squib
cross the threshold of Malfoy Manor. They were from poor families, some of them
unable to afford schooling. Of greatest interest to Lucius were the Gypsies
who had fled to England after the Great Purge of Griendelwald.
The servants were mostly young, naive to the ways of the world. They thought
they had a very good job serving the Malfoy. They had no more intelligence than
a House-Elf. They were treated better than House-Elves. Each servant was well
groomed and given fine clothing. This was so much for them as it was for appearances.
Having well-dressed servants showed just how rich the Malfoys were. Each bore
the mark of Malfoy around their neck: a collar of silver, shaped like a snake.
The youngest of these servants was a woman named Martja. Martja was barely two
years older than Draco. She had joined the household when Draco was thirteen,
serving at their maid. She was very quiet, very beautiful and very, very stupid.
Draco hated Martja with a fiery passion. She never did her job right. He had
to wonder why Lucius kept her around. The answer had become clear when Draco
had come home for holiday after third year at Hogwarts.
Draco had been up late, trying to figure out a way into Lucius' dark artefacts
cupboard. He was just about to sneak down the hall when he saw Lucius leave
his study. Quickly hiding behind a suit of armour, he watched as his father
went into Martja's miniscule quarters. After the door had shut, Draco sneaked
over and pressed his ear to the door.
What he heard was unmistakably the sound of Lucius Malfoy making full use of
his servant.
When Draco had asked his mother about it the next morning, she had yawned, rolling
her eyes. "For generations, the Malfoy men have entertained themselves
with their servants. As long as that little girl keep up her birth control potion,
I do not care." Narcissa then sipped from her goblet. "It keeps your
father from bothering me."
Draco liked Martja even less after that.
The only servant Draco actually like was Nanny Salka. Nanny Salka was the eldest
of the servants. She had been in the house since Lucius was a child. Draco assumed
Lucius had kept her around because he had the same fondness for her that Draco
did. Nanny Salka had raised Draco, treated him like her own son.
Nanny Salka had the face of an attractive woman that had faded from years of
service. Her olive skin was lined with wrinkles and she had constant bags under
her almond eyes. Her long black hair was streaked with grey. She always kept
her hair in a long braid. When Draco was younger and prone to temper-tantrums,
he would tug it as hard as he could.
Despite Draco's fondness of her, Salka was far from being a kindly old matron.
Oh no, Nanny Salka was a harsh and sharp woman. In many ways, Nanny Salka reminded
Draco of Professor Snape. While she favoured Draco, she would not let him escape
with anything that could embarrass the name of Malfoy.
And that was why Nanny Salka was currently rapping Draco across the knuckles.
"Ow!" Draco hissed, pulling his hands back. "I was just
asking where Father was."
"You father," Nanny Salka said tersely, "Has very important business
to attend to. You should respect that, Master Draco. You do not ask questions."
"Do you know where he is?" Draco asked, running his fingers over his
burning knuckles.
"It is not my place to wonder such things. Nor is it yours. Master Lucius
is a very important man."
"You're being a bit harsh with him, aren't you, Salka?" Narcissa looked
up from the Daily Prophet casually. "He only wishes to know where is father
is."
"I apologize, Madam," Nanny Salka's voice had an unmistakably tense
tone in it. She had never seemed to care much for Draco's mother.
Lucius Malfoy strode in a few moments later, clutching a small box in his gloved
hands. He did not greet either his wife or son. He thrust the box into Salka's
hands. "Put this away for me, Salka."
Salka nodded, leaving the room. Draco began to follow her. "What is that?"
He asked.
Lucius rapped Draco on the shoulder with his cane. "That is none of your
business, Draco. Now, I think you have homework to do." Lucius' cold grey
eyes bore into his son.
"Only my potions," Draco replied, "But Professor Snape disappeared
right before holiday. I won't need to--"
"Professor Snape," Lucius spat out the name, eyes quickly darting
to the door Salka had gone through, "Is back at Hogwarts. You would be
wise to do any assignments you have."
Scowling, Draco slunk out of the room. He went to his bedroom, sitting at his
polished, antique rosewood desk. He wrote at the top of his parchment, "Ten
Way to Tell When You've Been Poisoned" with a flourish. He paused, eagle
quill hovering over the parchment. Droplets of ink dripped down.
Draco dug out his potion's book, reading up on the different symptoms of poisoning.
After an hour of reading, he had begun to write.
He was almost done the essay when the door to his room opened. Martja came in,
with a silver tray of lunch.
"Why don't you knock?" Draco snarled, putting his quill down. "It's
quite rude. I will be telling Fa--"
He was cut off as the tray clattered to the ground. Martja grabbed her head,
giving a cry.
"Look what you've done!" Draco shouted, pointing at the mess on the
floor. "That rug is from Persia. Wait until I tell Fa--"
Again he was cut off. Martja grabbed his arm, her eyes trained on Draco.
At least he thought her eyes were trained on him. He couldn't tell, as her pupils
were gone. Her eyes were now pure white.
"You will kneel before the Dark Lord," Her voice was deep, clipped.
"Your head will be bowed in service. You will die a servant, on your knees.
The name Malfoy will die as a slave's title."
Draco shook his head furiously, trying to break out of Martja's grasp. "I
will be servant to no one! And I will not die!"
"It is in the stars," Martja growled, "It will come to pass."
Draco broke away, back up. "You're a foolish little Gypsy! What do you
know?"
As he backed up, he tripped over the tray on the floor. He pitched forward,
caught by his father.
"What's wrong, Draco?" Lucius gave his son a frigid smile.
"She," Draco pointed at Martja. She was blinking, looking normal again.
"She had a vision! She... She was saying I was going to...."
"A vision?" The smile faded from Lucius' face. "Really. Martja--
come. Stop frightening Draco."
Martja shook her head. "I had no vision, Master Malfoy. I couldn't. I'm
not--"
"Martja-- come!" Lucius seethed. He reached out, grabbing Martja by
her collar. "now!"
Lucius dragged Martja out of the room, shouting over his shoulder, "Get
Koro to clean your rug, Draco."
Draco stood in middle of his room, stocking feet in the hot soup Martja was
going to serve him. He was so numb he didn't even notice the hot broth seeping
through his socks.
He winced when he heard the scream echo through the Manor. Lucius must have
been beating Martja. It had never bothered Draco before. But there was something
about the scream...
Had Martja really had a vision of his fate? Was Draco going to die as a servant?
No, of course not. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy's were servants to no one. He would
never--
But no, the Malfoys were servants. Why had he never seen it before? His father
was a servant of Voldemort. Draco would follow in his father's footsteps. He
would bow and scrap at the feet of a decrepit, snake-like beast that couldn't
even defeat that idiot Potter.
"Well, fuck that!" Draco shouted. He strode to the hallway, hiding
behind the suit of armour outside Martja's room. He would question her about
her vision, see if there was a way out of it.
It had gone silent within the room. The door opened and Lucius stepped out.
He clutched something in his hand.
Draco waited until he Lucius had gone all the way down the hall to move into
Martja's room. He opened the door and--
Vomited.
Lying on the floor was Martja. At least, what had been Martja. There was a wound
in her stomach where she had been stabbed. Blood poured down her cheeks, empty
eye sockets fixed on Draco.
Eyes wide, unable to turn away from the corpse, Draco backed out of the room.
With trembling hands, he shut the door behind him.
He kept backing up, running into the wall. He jumped when he heard the footsteps.
Lucius was sweeping back up. "Draco?" Lucius furrowed his brow. He
was carrying his wand now. "Is something wrong? You're shaking."
Draco thought quickly. He couldn't well tell his father he had seen the butchered
body of Martja. "Just a bit disturbed by Martja's vision."
Lucius laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco noticed blood on his leather gloves.
"Don't worry Draco." Lucius gave him a cold smile. "Martja has
learned her lesson."