Never • The Lost Daughter | A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter 90 - Ritual

The tulle was itchy on my skin while I was waiting outside the dining room. Draco was right behind me, holding my hand and had placed the other on my waist.

"You will be okay. You will be okay. You will be okay," he kept going with his mantra.

"I don't like me," I said, and looked down at the black, huge, probably expensive dress that I was wearing. My father had given that to me. I didn't want to wear it but I had to. My hair was tidy in curls, one of Narcissa's desperate tries to make me look presentable, and my eyes were laced with black eye shadow, the amateur way Bellatrix made me look dark and old.

"I like you dressed like yourself, too," said Draco. He closed up from behind and kissed my neck. It was the only thing he could do to make me feel better. "You don't have to do this. Not for me," he repeated am once again.

"Stop it, already!" I snapped.

"It doesn't get worse than that, Anne. I would know."

"It gets better. I promise," I said.

Bellatrix opened the dining-room door and Draco made a step back at once.

The room was clear of any furniture. The Death Eaters had created a circle in the middle of the room. I walked slowly and stood in the middle. Voldemort came forward, holding his wand.

"Raise your sleeve," he said.

I raised it to reveal white skin with bruises and a carved word, still red with hot blood under the crust.

Traitress, it read.

"The other hand," said Voldemort when he took a glimpse of the scar.

I raised the other black sleeve and the skin was clearer, although did have some bruises on it. Voldemort placed the wand on my skin and pushes it forward. He frowned at my hand heavily and the Dark Mark appeared. When it was fully formed he made a step back and let me alone in the center of the circle.

"This is not just any making of a Death Eater. Today, we are welcoming my daughter in our army, the army that she will rule on my side. When history writes of Annalise's glory it will read that it all started today, when she joined her father and her brothers. Annalise," he said and looked directly at me. "Now, you will let go of your muggle name. You will choose a new, a strong name that will be known to everyone, next to mine."

"A name?"

"Verumvis, maybe. It means honor of strength," he said. "Or Victoracies. The one who will win all the battles."

"I prefer Valour. It means bravery," I said. Yes, one has to be brave now.

"Valour it is. Let us greet our new Death Eater. Lady Valour, the daughter of Voldemort, the one who came back. And what shall the history books read? They will read that from today the world answers to Voldemort and Valour. "

Voldemort made a step towards me and placed to hands on my shoulders. I had to stand there and do nothing while he was leaning and kissing my forehead.

I was ashamed of myself. I hated myself.

"FOR VOLDEMORT AND VALOUR!" Everyone in the room shouted. "FOR VOLDEMORT AND VALOUR!" they repeated. Some smiled widely, some cheered and some teared.

As for myself, I stood there. Looking at my mark blankly and simply waiting for this life to end, already.

Voldemort ignored the fact that I was constantly staring at the emerald ring on my finger. Not only was it a token of love that Draco had given me but it also helped me distract myself from my forearm.