A/N: Another one from me, ladies and gents. This is the first of five parts and you guys know the drill. Read and enjoy:)
Disclaimer: JKR owns the characters. Breaking Benjamin owns the song title.
The Diary of Jane
5 July 1998
The air was thick and hot as it blew in from his open window. Summer was just truly beginning and if the heat from the blazing sun was any indication, it would reach scorching temperatures before they moved into August.
Draco Malfoy stood and watched the light wind dance over the water of the lake a few yards away from his window, creating ripples on the surface and making them shimmer against the bank. The climbing roses growing ever higher on the outside walls of Malfoy Manor were in full bloom, off-setting the charcoal stone walls with their blood red blossoms and making the structure itself seem as if it had withstood a fatal wound.
Their scent was intoxicating as it drifted in on the back of the wind, like smoke and desire mixed in an unforgettable fragrance to dampen your mind against all else, and Draco knew if he reached out to pluck one from the dense vines, their thorns were deadly and enchanted to protect the house from any intruders who might have had the idea to try and scale the walls.
Draco remembered the time when he'd only been three years old and not known the subtle power encompassed within the bright flowers. He'd tried to pick one, to take to his mother for it'd been her birthday, and had immediately felt the effects of their poison seep into his little body, a tiny prick on his forefinger the only sign of his intentions. Luckily, Lucius had found his son in time to administer the antidote and Draco was given a punishment to remember for his mistake, and he'd had sense enough to stay far away from the roses there after.
However, in the last year, ever since his encounter with Dumbledore in the tower, he'd thought how like the blossoms he was.
Full of expectations and at his heart, not inherently evil, but he still hurt anyone who had the misfortune to get too close.
Perhaps he was putting too much blame on his own shoulders, for what could anyone have done when the life of their parents was at stake. But he knew that things would only stay quiet for so long.
He'd been forgiven, from both sides, for what had apparently been a no-win situation, especially since he'd not yet taken the Dark Mark, but he knew it was time to pick sides, time to truly join the war, time to decide which road he wanted to walk.
Draco had celebrated his eighteenth birthday only a month before and not long after that, his class had graduated from Hogwarts after McGonagall had elected to keep the school open. There had been sneak attacks from both sides over the last year, but neither had gained much ground and the conflict had come to a standstill. The blond knew it couldn't last now that Potter and all his followers were free from the every day routine of Hogwarts.
They would take the war straight to Voldemort's door.
Draco knew this as well as he knew the flowers outside his window could kill him with a single touch. He also knew the obligations that were laid at his feet now that Lucius was out of Azkaban and back in the Dark Lord's inner circle, and he knew he couldn't fight what was predestined. It was in his heritage and in his blood.
Reaching out, Draco let the light from the summer sun play across his left hand, its heat soaking into his palm and the warmth spreading up his arm to his chest. The eaves overhanging from the roof created shadows over the crease of his elbow and he studied the blank piece of flesh absently, imagining the vision of a skull and snake branded there for all the world to see.
He would kill and he would torture and he would do it all with a smile on his face. There was no other way and hate had already begun to burn in his heart, the deep deceptiveness of corruption was flaming in his mind. And he would expel all his guilt; it would no longer be tolerated. He would become stone, brick and mortar letting nothing through.
A resounding crack from the door interrupted his daydreaming and he stepped away from the window before turning to the unwelcome guest, a house-elf named Trixie who'd been promoted from the kitchen and was now allowed to work among the upper floors.
"What do you want?" he sneered nastily, annoyed to be bothered by anything these days.
"Begging pardon, young master, but Master Lucius wish to see you in study," the elf chattered out hurriedly, aware of the young man's mercurial moods.
Draco waved her away impatiently and the elf, satisfied that her message had been delivered, disappeared out of sight.
The blond already knew what his father would say. Now that he'd turned eighteen, he would be able to take the Dark Mark and officially join Voldemort's crusade. And he would go and do as he was told because the war was starting and his side had already been chosen for him.
12 July 1998
The chamber beneath Riddle House was both dark and dank and generally, the most unpleasant place Draco had ever been in his life.
But the Dark Lord felt the most protected there and held a vast majority of his Death Eater gatherings within its four walls.
Tonight, there were only seven people in attendance to watch as the last of the Malfoys took the mark in devotion to Voldemort's service.
Draco wasn't surprised to learn only a handful of people would be privy to the knowledge of his mark. As he glanced around the room, he noted the presence of Wormtail, Bellatrix, Snape, Macnair, and Lucius besides Voldemort and himself.
When the Dark Lord raised his hands, the red eyes scanning the chamber's occupants for obedience, silence descended among them, and Draco knew it was time. All of the Death Eaters kneeled at the feet of their master in supplication as Draco moved forward and took the outstretched hand of the man-like form he was about to dedicate his life to serve.
"Young Malfoy," Voldemort breathed on an exhale, his voice rattled into the air barely above a whisper as his tongue snaked out to wet his thin, pale lips. "You understand what is being asked of you? This won't be like last time. There won't be any forgiving should anything go wrong. The rest of my Death Eaters won't clean up your mistakes."
"Yes, my Lord," the blond replied in answer as he bent down, his left arm lifted from the black robe draped across his shoulders. "I'm ready now."
The Dark Lord ran his hand over the place on his arm that would display the mark and Draco felt a chill run down his spine at the motion. "You pledge your life to my service? To execute all the orders I give you with every drop of pureblood that runs through your veins?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort placed his palm flat on Draco's forearm, his pointed fingernails digging into the sides until they drew blood. "Then you will receive the highest of honors and be blessed with my mark."
The pain was expected as bolts of fire shot up his arm and spread through him, coiling into every inch of his body until the throbbing was so intense, he knew nothing but the buzzing in his ears. The hate lodged in his heart expanded tenfold and he could feel his mind being penetrated for the truth of his intentions. When it seemed the Dark Lord had been satisfied, the pain receded and Draco only felt the heat pulsing on his arm; he was numb to all else.
"You have been marked, Draco Malfoy. Be sure to remember what that means or it will mean your death," Voldemort warned him, the red eyes never once leaving his own gray ones as the group disbanded and Draco along with Lucius apparated back to the manor.
Draco knew he would never forget.
9 September 1998
It had been nearly two months since his initiation into the circle of the Dark Lord, but he'd not yet been beckoned again. The black mar on his arm had pulsed and vibrated almost if it'd had a life of its own, but it had not once burned in summoning.
He watched his father go back and forth from the manor like a specter in the night and he would always reassure him that the Dark Lord had a special task for him; he was just waiting for the right time to present it, to make sure he could handle it much better than the failed mission in the tower. The former Potions Master had been the one to carry it out and was even now still wanted for the murder.
Draco knew he was ready this time. He was older and stronger and his past experiences had made him wiser. This time, he wouldn't let his second-guessing get the best of him. He would receive his charge and do what had to be done.
No questions asked.
After all, the Gryffindors who were lauded for their courage and bravery wouldn't stop to think about if what they were doing was right. They would jump into the fray at Potter's command with no doubts in their mind.
They were self-righteous that way, and Draco knew he had to be the same.
Then, the burning heat seared up his arm and straight through him with white-hot intensity, like being thrown head-first into a volcano without warning, and when he finally regained his bearings, Draco knew it was time.
When he apparated into the chamber, he noted the attendance of the same people who'd been present for his marking, their dark hooded figures lining the wall behind the Dark Lord himself who was standing before Draco with Nagini curled at his feet.
"Young Malfoy, Lucius has told me many things about you," Voldemort addressed him, his tone deceivingly conversational and without the usual pomp and circumstance of the last meeting.
Draco kept his guard up and only nodded in response.
"He says you have no trouble attracting the attention of females."
The blond kept his shock at the Dark Lord's words to himself and waited for the purpose of this line of discussion to become apparent.
"These charms should serve you well in order to execute your task," the reptilian man informed him. "You shall capture the Granger girl, by any means necessary, and use her as your liaison to get to Potter. Seduce her, torture her, whatever way you think will work best."
Draco was stunned for a moment after, but he collected his wits quickly. He could not appear weak in any way. "Why Granger, if I may ask, my Lord?" he questioned in the most subservient of tones.
"She is the weakest link in the people surrounding Potter. She will be the easiest to break."
Draco simply nodded once more and was already beginning to organize possible plans in his mind as he bowed to his master. "I shall do as you command, my Lord."
As he rested in bed later that night and watched as the light from the moon outside danced across his bedroom walls, he could already picture ways of making Granger talk and spill secrets to him about Potter's plans to attack the Dark Lord.
It wouldn't be that difficult at all.
20 October 1998
Maybe he'd been hasty in his assumptions.
Draco had been trying to track the girl for more than a month now to learn all her routines, but Granger had been hard to pin down for more than a day or so before she disappeared to a different place, her movements erratic and random without any sense of estimated logic.
He still wasn't sure what the Dark Lord had meant about her being the weakest link, he could think of a couple people, Longbottom especially, that would be easier to break than her, but then, it wouldn't be one of Potter's two closest confidants either. So, he continued to shadow her and wait for an opening to get closer.
Today, she was in Dover, and according to what he could see from his hiding spot behind a building that smelled strongly of fish, she seemed to be making some sort of arrangement with the port-master, who looked like every other ordinary Muggle. Money changed hands and the man was all agreement to whatever he'd been asked.
Draco sneered. This was exactly why he wanted to wipe them off the face of the earth. They were nothing more than a greedy bunch of pigs.
Granger gave the impression that she thought no better as she shook her head gently in weary disappointment as she made her way back up to the road, pulling the coat she was wearing tighter around her shoulders to ward off the chilly wind lifting up from the channel.
After a month of waiting, Draco finally saw the perfect opportunity for a surprise attack as she started walking right next to the building he was hiding behind, showing no indication that she knew he was there.
In the blink of an eye, he snatched her from around the corner and apparated her away to a place close by where he knew they wouldn't be disturbed. It was where he saw her staying earlier that morning, the Seaside Motel, a small outcropping of buildings decorated with cheesy ceramic seahorses and locate only a couple of kilometers away from the famed white cliffs.
When they appeared in the room she'd let out, room 119, Draco already had his wand out as he threw her down across the bed and spoke in the same breath.
"Imperio!"
The blond watched in fascination as the Imperius Curse washed over the former Gryffindor and a wide-eyed look of blankness took the place of her normally sharp, intelligent gaze, her body going slack and relaxing into the bed from where it had been about to leap into an offensive attack.
"Ah, that's better," Draco murmured to himself, taking care to remove her wand from her person.
The former Slytherin took the time to study her as he kept his wand trained on her, not letting the curse waver for a moment. Even though it'd only been a few months since he'd seen her last, she looked older somehow as the creases of her face displayed, wiser and yet not without the eternal optimism she was famous for. The dark circles beneath her eyes flaunted her lack of sleep, many nights had been spent in worry instead of resting in a bed, and she was thinner, the war increasing her lack of appetite, but Draco felt no sympathy for her, only the cold steely determination to complete his task.
"So, Granger, where do we start?" the blond asked absently as he took a seat in a chair across the room from where she sat on the bed. "Where's Potter hiding out these days?"
"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," she replied in a monotone, her eyes staring vacantly ahead. "The Secret Keeper has been restored."
Draco perked up. This was new information to his ears. "And who is the new Secret Keeper now that Dumbledore's dead?" he asked coaxingly, in case she was fighting against the curse.
"Harry," she answered.
Well, that wouldn't do him any good. Potter would be perfectly protected while he was in the house and since he was the target, it would be pointless once he was out of it. Thinking of a new line of questioning, he redirected his attention to the brunette witch.
"What were you doing down at the harbor?" he questioned, once more making his voice as enticing as possible.
"Completing my task," she responded vaguely, her face still absent of expression.
Draco was beginning to get impatient, he'd learned nothing of importance so far and the Dark Lord would be unforgiving if he appeared at the next gathering with nothing.
"What was your task?" the blond inquired, his frustration starting to bleed into his voice.
The girl was silent.
"What was your task?" he asked again, his volume increasing as he stood up and moved forward, intending to put pressure on her to answer the question.
Before Draco knew what hit him, he was flat on his back with an angry witch above him, her wand back in her hand and pointed straight at his throat. His own had fallen to the floor uselessly.
"Big mistake, Malfoy. Don't you know you're supposed to always stay calm during an interrogation?" she asked him mockingly. "Well, I was never under the curse to begin with, so I suppose your real mistake was getting up."
"But how -" he started confusedly, but she broke in before he could get another word out.
"Oh, Dray-cu-o," she drew his name out, "Harry taught us how to throw off the Imperius years ago. Keep up," she jabbed her wand into his jugular to make her point. "Now, who sent you and what were you supposed to find out?"
Draco's ice gray eyes hardened. "No one. I was acting on my own."
The brown narrowed in suspicion. "You're lying."
The former Slytherin sneered at her in retaliation. "Believe what you want."
Indecision smoothed over her face, and Draco knew exactly what she was about to do. Hermione passed her wand over to her left hand, the tip continuing to dig into his throat, and reached down with her right to the sleeve that hid his left arm from view. Her eyes never left his as she pulled the material back with jerky movements, but in the next moment, her eyes darted down to look at what he knew she'd see there.
Not hesitating, the blond reached for his second weapon and flipped her over in the same breath, the blade of the ivory-hilted dagger pressed against the white column of her neck as she gasped in surprise, her wand dropping from her hand.
"You're not the only one who has a trick or two up their sleeve," he whispered in her ear, the sharp edge of the weapon slicing through her skin like butter, just enough to draw a few drops of blood.
"So, Daddy's little boy has finally joined the big leagues." Hermione hissed in pain. "What do you want?"
"I want what you know."
The brunette felt along the floor as she formed her answer, her wand only centimeters from her fingertips. "And what do you think that is?"
"Why don't you tell me everything and we'll go from there?"
She reached, just a little bit more and she'd have it. His hips were digging into hers as he kept her pressed into the floor and she thought of a distraction. "How about this?" she asked smartly, still aware of the blade to her throat. Keeping her mind split between her wand and his attention, she rolled her lower body upward and created a delicious friction against his own. Draco closed his eyes to the sensation.
One more roll and the length of wood was back in her hand. "You come near me again and I'll kill you."
Then she apparated away, leaving Draco to fall the small space where her body had been beneath him to the floor, his mind already formulating his next plan.
TBC…
A/N: Until next time, people. Please leave me a review if you would. I hoped you enjoyed it.
