***This story is currently being rewritten***
-This story is set at the beginning of the 6th book: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. Draco is struggling to accept his place as a Death Eater and, ultimately, Draco struggles with what side he is really rooting for. In order to please his father and the Dark Lord, Draco must commit an unspeakable act. But first Draco must teach himself to be evil, and not care. He decides to take out his frustrations on little, mudblood, Hermione Granger. And he learns the extent of just how evil he can be. *Please review, comment, or message me if you enjoy, I love feedback!* The Harry Potter franchise, characters and themes are *unfortunately* not owned by me.
Draco remembered the first time he felt fear. Not regular fear, like the kind that flickers inside your chest for mere seconds when you get surprised, then dies down while leaving your mind reeling. Draco remembered the first time he was afraid to die. It happened inside Borgin and Burkes on a drizzly, seemingly normal day. He remembered his father tightly holding down his arms, and he remembered watching his mother wipe away tears discreetly. He wanted to hold her fragile hand, and tell her it was going to be alright; he was going to be alright. But his screams were welling up inside of his throat, making it impossible to breathe, let alone reassure anyone. He would have been unaware that he was crying if he hadn't felt the hot tears run down his cheeks. In normal circumstances, The Malfoys didn't approve of showing one's emotions. But they made an allowance, due to the circumstances. The waves of pain hit him at different times, in different places. Somehow, it seemed more painful and raw with each hit. His insides burned, thick and hot, like his veins were coursing with actual acid. His eyes were forced open, unnaturally. They were so dry and painful, he couldn't even see through his blurred vision. His father's hands tightened around Draco's wrist, trying to force them down. He was trying to coax Draco into relaxing his muscles, but unfortunately, that word no longer held any meaning.
"Crucio!" The word rang in Draco's ears forever. His mind felt like it was ripping apart at the seams. He knew at any second he would feel his brains, liquified and warm, running out of his ears and down his face. Draco knew what would happen when he agreed, officially, to become a Death Eater. Draco knew the personal sacrifices he would have to make to prove his allegiances to Voldemort. Draco knew they would perform two of the unforgivable curses on him, but he could never fathom just how painful they would be. He remembered looking over at the enchanted grandfather clock over and over, thinking that hours must have passed of him being tortured, but instead, only mere minutes had passed. When the curse hit him the final time, he remembered praying to die. He remembered wishing that he would soon draw his final breath, because breathing itself was all too painful. He remembered looking up at his father, his cool, gray eyes were staring back at him, filled with concern. For a single moment, Lucius gently stroked his son's palm with his thumb. When the final curse stopped ringing in his body, the world around him finally came back into focus. He could hear the Death Eaters chatter around him. He could hear his mother's muffled sobs. He could hear his own breath coming out in loud, deranged pants. Every part of his body felt foreign; like he couldn't quite control it, but everything hurt and throbbed intensely. He remembered his mother holding his face in her soft hands, and kissing his forehead so tenderly. His fathered looked worn, but happy that it was over.
Lord Voldemort spoke to the Death Eaters before finally congratulating Draco. To wrap up the ceremony, the Dark Lord rolled up Draco's blood-covered, left sleeve and chanted something in Parseltongue while running his wand up and down his arm. The lines on his arm burned and twitched at the touch, and Draco remembered Voldemort looking down at his arm, and angrily repeating the spell while pressing down even harder, and more painfully. When it was over, The Dark Lord set down his arm and smile a venomous smile at Draco. "I hope you will impress me, Draco." he said simply, but menacingly before apparating away. The other Death Eaters praised Draco, then shortly followed after Voldemort, until only the Malfoys and the shop keeper were left. It was all official now. Draco Malfoy was officially a Death Eater.
It had been one month since his initiation into the infamous group, and he was still struggling, deep down, to truly accept it. As Draco walked to Potion's class his thoughts weighed down on him heavily. He met up with Crabbe and Goyle in the corridor and let them chat amongst themselves, deep in his own thoughts. How can I completely devote my life to something I'm not sure I agree with? To something I may even be...against entirely. Is it right? Am I on the right side? Does it even matter? Surely I would be killed if I ever tried to defy Voldemort... Draco chose a different seat than normal; he told Crabbe and Goyle he needed to properly focus on his studies without being bogged down by their idiocy. They left him be, and sat closer to the front of the class room. He set down his stuff and took out a quill, some ink, and parchment; thinking secretly that he may as well succeed in his studies, just in case being a Death Eater doesn't pan out... He looked up to see Weasley and Potter walk in together, muttering things to each other. Potter glanced his way, then quickly looked away as they chose some seats far away. Disgusting, Malfoy thought to himself. He resented the way Potter acted so innocently, and he thought it was absolutely pathetic the way Weasel clung to Potter's fame as if he were actually his friend. Draco glanced up again. Hmm...I wonder where the final piece to the idiotic trio is. Draco didn't see Granger in the classroom, which was strange for the obnoxiously-studious girl. She was usually there before any of the other students, which he thought was an obvious attempt to shed her mudblood birthright and try to overcompensate for her inferiority. It was futile; she would never be as great as a pureblood wizard. She simply couldn't. She was born inferior.
Draco shrugged off the thoughts of the annoying Gryffindor and focused on bumbling Professor Slughorn. Although he was a complete idiot, he did assign the grades for the class so Draco attempted to listen to his incoherent teachings. Today, they were learning about the Bloodroot potion. It was essentially a poison concocted from the Bloodroot plant. The effects of which, in small doses, were lightheadedness and unconsciousness. In high doses, the potion can cause internal bleeding, seizures, comas and even death. Draco's head was buried in the parchment as he took notes, and he almost didn't notice Granger slip into the classroom, 10 minutes late. He watched her narrowly as she apologized to the professor and look around for an empty seat. He watched her gaze, unhappily fall upon him. His lip curled in disgust as she started walking towards the seat next to him. Draco looked around, and sure enough, that was the only seat open. He was about to say something as she sat down but she beat him to it. "Listen Malfoy, I don't want to sit next to you either and believe me, I wouldn't be if there was an open seat." she said while getting out her supplies and not once glancing at him. How dare she speak him. How dare she even sit next to him. Her kind shouldn't even be allowed to attend the same school as he does, let alone sit next to him. Draco was livid and disgusted at the same time. He wanted to rip into the Mudblood, but he decided he had enough to deal with at the moment and chose to ignore her entire presence. After all, today was only a class lecture, they didn't have to be lab partners or anything.
He spent the entire lecture taking notes, and pretending the horrible Granger wasn't sitting next to him. He cursed her in his head, wishing that anyone else had sat there. Slughorn finally wrapped things up with 30 minutes still left of class. Draco prayed he would let them out early so he could head up to the Slytherin dorm to relax, and mull things over.
"Alright. Since we finished the lecture early let's get a head start in the Bloodroot lab. If you guys make decent progress perhaps we can dismiss class early next time. Partner up with the person at your table and find a station over by the cauldrons. Turn to page 36 in your books, and begin the assignment." Professor Slughorn instructed. Draco rolled his eyes incredibly annoyed. How could the professor expect him to work with Granger? It was an outrage. A complete insult. Wordlessly, he grabbed his items and rushed to an open station at the cauldrons. He opened his book to the proper page expecting to complete the assignment in silence. Granger walked up to the open seat, and took it next to him. She looked just as unhappy as he did. She skimmed over the assignment. "So, we'll need 3 vials of the bloodroot juice. The best way, of course, will be to crush it up. If you want to start working on that I will"-
-"Stop" Draco cut her off. "I don't need instructions from you, Granger. I'm more than capable of reading on my own, thanks." He said coldly while preparing a vial. Hermione's eyes narrowed at him and her nose scrunched slightly. Her annoyance slightly amused him. "Look Malfoy. I'm going to make this potion correctly. I don't care what you do. Just stay out of my way." She said matter-of-factly. Draco felt anger boil up into his chest at her order. He wasn't going to be bossed around by a mudblood. "Why don't you shut your pathetic-mouth Granger? Just because you spend all of your time cooped up in the library alone because you have no friends doesn't mean your smarter than anyone here." he lashed out angry, partly hoping to rile her up, for fun. Her golden, brown eyes were glaring at him. She looked to be somewhere between angry and hurt. "And just because your parents think they are god's gift to the wizard world doesn't mean you are better than anyone here" She fought back. Draco frowned. Hermione felt as if she struck a nerve in him. His voice lowered to a harsh whisper, "Of course I'm better than you, Mudblood." She flinched, almost unnoticeably. Her lips parted and her eyes lowered to the floor. She was silent for a moment before glaring back at him.
"Fuck you, Death Eater." She whisper barely audible. His brow twitched slightly as he thought about wrapping his hands around her pathetic neck. He hated that bitch. He hated Hermione Granger. And he decided right there that he was going to teach her some fucking manners. He was going to make her pay.