The Reckoning

Chapter 2: Draco

“All of them will be put up for auction.  I think this will help bring in the necessary funds.”  Draco paused, “Make sure they are in good condition.  I don’t want of them damaged.”

Draco surveyed the remains of the wedding party.  Almost everyone who had come was dead, less those slytherins who were pledged to him.  The entire Weasley Clan had been torn limb to limb by werewolves, and only the Weasly girl and Fleur had been taken as captives—profitable captives, of course.

Draco had especially savored the howls of pain that had come from His mouth as the wolves tore him apart.  Draco had only stunned him, then waited for him to awaken before tossing him to the wolves with the express order that he be slowly devoured.

O it had been beautiful. 

He grinned savagely.  It had taken months to infiltrate the group, and it had been impossible to win Hermione’s heart.  He knew he couldn’t do it while the Weasly boy lived, so he had to go.

So he had waited.  Patiently, Draco had secured his place.  He had befriended them—the pathetic golden trio and he hated every moment of it.  The only thing that had prevented him from losing his mind was Hermione—but that too was a double-edged sword.

Hermione had chose the Weasle.  Draco had to endure months of their giggles, their kisses, their secret glances, and meetings.  He knew they fucked each other, he knew that she gave to Weasly what belonged to him, Draco, by rights, and it had driven him mad with anger.  With lust.

But not anymore.  Weasley was dead, killed by the elder wand, and Draco was alive.  Hermione was his now, and she awaited him.  She slept in his bed. 

Mine.  How close he came to losing her, but it had been important to doing it tonight, on the wedding.  The thought alone filled him with disgust, of her and Ron joined together, but it was the best cover to plan his attack.  His initiative.

Draco had never been a follower, and he sure as hell had never wanted to play second fiddle to the dark lord.  It had been easy to persuade others to his cause, and even easier to compose a plan that was simple: join with the golden trio, but use them as a front to kill the dark lord.  Let them do the dirty work.  Then use that time to build their own plot.  Once that was ready, they would turn on the trio.

They had already carved out the world into four parts.  Draco took the North, his father took the West, the Crowley’s took the East, and the South was given to the Zanbini’s.  They could devide the land up as they saw fit.  Out of everyone, Draco trusted his father the least and feared an alliance between the Crowley’s and his father.  Zanbini would most definitely support Draco, but there was a great distance between them—it did, however, provide a nice check on the other two.

The wizarding world was easy to subjugate, and since the human world was already in ruins from the dark lord’s failed attack, it would be easy to take over the weak humans….

Draco grinned.  This was going to be wonderful.