AN: Hello there! It's been quite a long time since I've published anything to fanfiction... I've deleted some stories, and may revise some of them. All of my other works are from when I was in 7th grade, or roughly 13. I am now a sophomore in college. Anywhoo, here's the first chapter of something I've been working on for awhile. Thanks for reading! - Bella
Cold. That was the only word to describe how Draco was feeling with any form of accuracy. There was a numbness -nothingness even- in his soul. There were high expectations of him now that the war was underway and the Dark Lord had the upper hand. The staggering reality of it made his stomach twist violently into knots. His life was on the line. More importantly, the life of his father and dear mother were practically in his hands. One mistake, and they would be gone. The Dark Lord wasn't one to be empathetic, but sadistic.
The war was changing him, but not exactly in the way most people would have thought. He'd been walking a tight line his entire life, not daring to stray for fear of the consequences. He was bred to hate, honestly, and he did for the most part until he'd been at Hogwarts a few years. He started to form his own opinions, though he wouldn't dare share them with a single soul. He'd always been stoic, he never had an issue camouflaging his true emotions with others that were more pleasing to his family and the Dark Lord.
He was a pawn. A tool used by the Dark Lord to gain control of the entire magical world. The Dark Mark on his arm branded him like some sort of animal. Each time he was called, it singed the feeling of dread into his skin. It never got easier. Each confrontation meant another horrendous task. Refusal meant death. To him, his family, to anyone he'd ever remotely cared about. He couldn't let it happen, regardless of what he had to do. He just hoped he'd never have to actually kill someone. He had a hard enough time living with himself as it was.
Sleep didn't come easy to him. He opened his eyes as the sun poured into his window, making him wish he had shut the curtains, desperate for rest before the day had even started. He made his way to his bathroom, preparing to take a shower. His eyes grazed his reflection in the mirror, noticing how much he had changed. His skin was of unhealthy, paled coloring. His eyes had sunken in, their silver coloring had long lost their gleam. The demanding life of a death eater was draining the life out of him. He'd be ashamed for anyone he knew from his time at Hogwarts to see him in this state.
Hogwarts. His childhood. He wish things were as simple as they were then, when there was a distinct line between good and evil and he sided with his father and the Dark Lord without question. Now he questioned his own intentions. He had given Dumbledore, the man who saw any sort of goodness inside of him, into the hands of death. He couldn't bear to do it, and if Snape hadn't muttered those two unforgivable words he and his family wouldn't even be alive. Regardless, the whole population of Hogwarts had grown to absolutely despise him. He didn't want to play the bad guy anymore. He didn't want people to fear his name and hate his very being. Though he was beginning to question it, Draco Malfoy wasn't evil.
But what did that matter? If you took the rotted corruption out of him, what would be left? A broken body with a gentle soul that no one would believe in. The thoughts were starting to sicken him. He was born for this, his father instilling no other ideas into his head. He had to be the bad guy, no matter how much it pained him. It was a heavy burden to bear.
He stepped into the shower with a sigh, determined not to give it another thought.
He had just finished getting dressed when the searing pain pulsed through his arm. The Dark Lord was summoning him to another task. He silently said a prayer that he wouldn't have to kill anyone. He took a deep breath as he placed his right thumb on the mark before apparating away from his home.
He glanced around to find himself in an unfamiliar setting. It was a manor, one belonging to a Death Eater of course, but not one he was familiar with. "Ah, Draco," he heard an unsettling voice calling him. He turned around and was greeted with the face of the Dark Lord, sitting at a deep, mahogany table no more than ten feet away from him.
"My Lord," he greeted with a slight bow of his head before taking a seat at the table before him. It was an unsettling five minutes, waiting for the other Death Eaters to arrive. It was almost as if Voldemort's eyes never left Draco, though he would admit he seemed a bit paranoid. Too paranoid for his liking. He could only hope Voldemort hadn't decided to try and pry into his thoughts. He knew Occlumens, but didn't know how long he could keep it up. It wasn't that he was hiding any sort of memory, which is usually what happened with Legilimens, he was suppressing his emotions.
He swallowed hard as Voldemort started speaking once everyone arrived, his eyes staring holes into the table in front of him. He always knew his father expected him to carry on the Dark Lord's orders, but Draco never thought it'd be possible. It seemed like only recently Voldemort was stuck to the back of some poor man's head. Now he had grown so powerful things were looking grim for the wizarding world.
Voldemort was being attacked by quite a powerful force. Harry Potter had a vengeance that wouldn't be settled until the Dark Lord was dead. The Golden Trio as a whole would die for the cause. Hermione Granger, without a doubt the most brilliant witch of their age, was putting up such a fight that his father was even mildly impressed… as far as mudbloods went.
He had tormented her over the years. When he was a first year, it didn't seem like much. He was only eleven years old. She was a Mudblood, and that was what his father would stress about her. 'She isn't worthy...' The words still rang in his head. He was brought into the world hating muggle-borns like her. Years passed, and by the time he started to think for himself, it was too late. The damage was irreversible, his words left too deep a wound in her, and he hated himself for it.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name. It caused his heart to pick up rapidly. "My Lord," he repeated from his greeting, painfully curious as to what the man had to say.
"I have a special task for you," he said with a menacing smile. Draco could only imagine what terrible things that meant for him. "There are numerous cells beneath Malfoy manor, correct?" he paused. Draco nodded, picturing the cells where a number of people, including Ollivander, had been held in the recent past. "Well Draco, I believe an old friend," he paused, a sadistic gleam in his snake-like eyes, "May be there to meet you soon," he smirked. "Please make sure to welcome her for me," he laughed cruelly. Draco felt his stomach twist, but only nodded, hiding his emotion and forcing a smirk on his face. He had always been good at covering his emotions, it wasn't nearly as difficult in the presence of the Dark Lord as he would have thought originally. Perhaps he had been too worried coming into the meeting.
He said a quick but reverent good-bye and apparated back to the manor, not wanting to be there longer than necessary. He needed to see who he was tending to before his heart beat out of his chest. The cruel excitement Voldemort had expressed had Draco worried. Sure, his only 'friends' at Hogwarts had been fellow Slytherins, all pureblood. He knew he couldn't possibly be referring to any of them.
His feet quickly shuffled down the stairs to the dungeons, his body completely freezing as his steel-blue eyes locked onto a pair of chestnut eyes. Hermione Granger had been caught. He was stunned. The brightest witch of his age was now out of the battle. Good stood no chance in the fight any longer.
Her hair was as frizzy as it had always been, matted slightly- he wasn't sure what caused it. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a large gash in her side. The crimson evidence was clear on her ratted, once white button-up. Her arm was being gripped by another Death Eater, as she had been fighting back. It would bruise, no doubt.
As their eyes met he was reminded of his childhood, his years at Hogwarts. Granger was one of the few surviving memories of his childhood that he'd probably ever see, and in that moment, he felt horrible. He had become a monster, and that was clear through the venom with which he spoke, "Granger," he spat, immediately regretting his harsh tone.
She winced lightly at the sound of his voice, her eyes closing for a moment before retorting back, "Malfoy," at him with an equal amount of venom. Her eyes gave everything away. She wasn't angry, she was humiliated, alone, and maybe even hopeless.
If anything, she had always been optimistic, even he knew that. Her spirit had been broken, and Draco couldn't help but feel any glimpse of hope dissipate as he looked in her eyes. 1/3 of the Golden Trio had been knocked out of the race, left helpless. He felt even worse.
Did he dare to say she was a pleasant memory for him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy their mindless quarrels. She was the one girl to ever stand up to him, and he honestly looked forward to it when he was younger. He had said so many cruel things without even realizing the severity. As he grew older, they turned into simple taunting back and forth, perhaps less insulting. But in that moment, he knew she wouldn't stand up to him. She held onto her dignity, but she was placed into a cell without a fuss. She sat in the corner furthest from him.
"Have fun with this one, Draco. She's a little feisty, but not too difficult to manage," an unfamiliar voice spoke to him. Draco looked over to see one of the Death Eaters, and he suddenly found himself fighting back the urge to attack. He merely nodded, straight-faced, and then watched him walk away.
Silence followed.
"Granger," he spoke softly as he approached her cell, "What have they done to you?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He crouched down to be at eye level with her, noticing how she refused his eye contact. He sighed lightly before standing up. "I'll be back before dinner," he said without much emotion.
He started to walk away, but was stopped by her sudden cry, "Wait!" He turned on his heels, looking back at her, stunned. "Malfoy," she addressed him firmly, pausing a moment. Her eyes met his, piercing into them, making him feel incredibly guilty already. "Why?" she asked him, her voice faltering as she awaited some sort of response.
His eyes focused on hers for a moment, desperately searching for an answer inside of him. He held his breath as he turned and walked away from her, letting it out as a sigh when he was out of earshot. Damn her. Damn her for reminding him of the animal he had become.
OKAY. There goes the first chapter! I'm excited to see what you think! All comments, questions, and criticisms are welcome. Next chapter should be up in a few days. It's half written and needs editing. I have the general story arc mapped out, but I'm open to suggestions. I'm glad to be back :) - Bella