Wraith Chpt. 9

Chapter Nine: Marked




Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.




The next day, Wraith rose later than usual. She had woken at dawn as was her habit, but for hours, she could not bring herself to move. It was almost noon before she left her rooms and cautiously made her way down the stairs. She was thirsty and she knew she ought to eat something, but she was wary of Bellatrix's presence, especially after the night before.

She entered the dining room and was slightly startled to see Draco. He was sitting at the table, an untouched mug of tea in front of him. Draco looked up when she entered and he paled, standing quickly and muttering an excuse to leave.

But Wraith lifted a hand to silence him and he froze. "You don't have to leave," she told him gently. "I was just going to get something to drink, and take it up to my room."

Jiri heard her voice from the kitchen and poked his head into the room. Wraith stepped around the table and knelt, making a soft request to the house-elf that Draco could not hear. But as the house-elf left, Wraith straightened and looked to Draco again. Her face was blank.

"I suppose your father told you about last night."

Draco started to nod and then cleared his throat. "Well, mostly it was Aunt Bellatrix."

"I'm sure she had plenty to say," Wraith murmured dryly.

Draco looked at her for a long moment. "Is it true that you survived a killing curse?"

"Was that was he was trying to do?" Wraith asked, a little amused. "No wonder they all reacted that way." She smiled slightly and held out a hand. "Try to cast a spell on me, Draco. Anything that comes to mind."

Draco swiftly shook his head.

"You won't hurt me," Wraith told him. "You can't."

Again, he shook his head.

Wraith sighed and shrugged lightly. "Alright," she said, "then I'll explain. I am…immune to any magic but my own. If you had cast a spell, it would have had no effect on me whatsoever. Only a very powerful wizard or witch can affect me at all, and even then…well, it wouldn't do much."

She sat down at the table and Draco slowly did the same. She held out her hand, gesturing for Draco's. He hesitated and then gave her his left hand. She pushed his sleeve down to see the Dark Mark there.

"An example," she said, "the Dark Lord tried to place the Dark Mark on my arm, like he has for all of his Death Eaters. The Mark appeared for a moment, but then it faded completely."

"What are you?" Draco asked.

Wraith let go of his arm, her face blank once more. She shrugged once more and said nothing.




When the sun had set on the day, Wraith returned to the parlor to await the Dark Lord's return. She wasn't alone, for both Lucius and his son idled within the room as well. As Wraith paced the floor back and forth, she suddenly turned to Draco.

"Draco?" she called. "May I ask a favor?"

Draco was hesitant and his father's face tightened visibly.

Wraith sighed impatiently. "I'm not going to bite you, Draco."

His pride wounded by her mocking tone, Draco stood and crossed the room to her. "What is it?" he asked, gruffly.

"Let me see your Mark again?"

Draco rolled back his sleeve and held out his arm. Wraith looked at it, and then sat on the couch in front of the fire, pulling Draco with her. Her face was focused upon the Mark. She held a hand over it and murmured, "This may sting."

"I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me," Draco said nervously.

"I said I wouldn't bite you. Now hold still."

She pressed her hand against the Mark and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Draco's arm jerked under her hand and he winced, but he tried to stay as still as he could. Slowly, Wraith lifted her hand. There was a crackle in the air, like static, and she carefully pressed her hand on her left forearm. She let out the breath she'd been holding and the power dissipated. Draco blinked and shook his head, his ears ringing.

Wraith held up her arm and smiled when she saw the faint Mark there. "I think it worked."

"What worked exactly?" Lucius asked, approaching the couch. Draco rubbed his arm, frowning as he looked between Wraith's Mark and his own.

"There are some things, spells, that I can mimic or copy," Wraith explained. "I wanted to see if I could create the Mark myself, since the Dark Lord could not." She turned her head to the parlor doors. "Speaking of…"

She trailed off as she stood. She reached the doors, pulling them open just as Voldemort reached them. The Dark Lord paused on the threshold, giving her a look. Wraith's smile was almost impish as she tapped a finger to her temple.

"I have a gift for you," she said, echoing his words from the night before.

"Oh? Pray tell."

She held up her arm, shaking back her sleeve to show him the Mark. Voldemort took hold of her wrist and examined the Mark carefully.

"How did you manage that?"

"Draco helped me," she said, gesturing to where he sat. "I copied the Mark from his arm." She tilted her head to the side. "Want to see if it works?"

"Draco," Voldemort called, "Come here."

The young man hurried over, his pale face drawn. Voldemort let go of Wraith's wrist to grasp Draco's. He pressed a finger to the Mark, burning it black. Draco winced-and so did Wraith.

She smiled again, holding out her arm to show that her Mark has burned black as well.

Voldemort smiled darkly. "Very good, my Wraith," he said, turning to her and holding her arm as he looked the black Mark over. Wraith's eyes were bright as she looked up at him.

Lucius came up behind his son and placed a firm hand on Draco's shoulder, drawing him back a little.

Voldemort caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and released his hold on Wraith. "Your fellow Death Eaters shall arrive shortly," he told her. "Be ready to leave when they are here."




When the Death Eaters arrived, Voldemort had settled into a chair in front of the fire. One wizard, Dolohov, cautiously approached the Dark Lord.

"Is it true, my Lord, that Hogwarts will not reopen in the fall?"

Voldemort nodded once. "While it has been useful to have many of my enemies' children under my grasp-the fact remains that having them at Hogwarts allows them to band together. And I have underestimated children far too often in the past."

"Will it remain closed?" Lucius asked.

"I imagine that I will reopen it a few years from now," Voldemort said, "when the worst of the agitators could not return."

He lifted his serpentine eyes to the doorway to see Wraith return. Once more, she had donned the black dress and white bodice, but there were also twisting, almost thorny white designs on her sleeves. Her mask was in her hand, and her eyes flickered across each of the Death Eaters as they turned to stare at her. She affected a detached air and her eyes fell to where Voldemort sat. She waited there by the door until he gestured to her, and then crossed to him through the small group gathered in the parlor.

In front of his chair, she curtsied deeply and remained low. Voldemort smiled and waved to the hearth beside the chair, silently inviting her to sit. Wraith smiled slightly and sat on the hearth, betwixt him and the fire, one hand resting upon the armrest of his chair. More confident at his side, she looked over the Death Eaters again, in an almost challenging gaze.

Voldemort saw the direction her sharp eyes took and he too looked to his Death Eaters.

"Did I not tell you," he said softly, his eyes on Bellatrix, "to expect great things from my Wraith?"

There was silence until Voldemort spoke again.

"None of you should have a thing to fear from her," he said, "for you are all completely loyal to me."

It was a warning and those gathered there took it as such. Wraith did her best not to smile.

"Besides," Voldemort said, touching a finger under Wraith's chin, "she'll make out task all but effortless. People are so much easier to manipulate…when they're afraid."

He smiled slowly and it was answered by Wraith's.