Title: Becoming a Weasley
Author: Animagus03(Yahoo groups)/ Americangirl (Fanfiction.net)
Rating: Hmm…PG for now.
Summary: Lord Voldemort has a special plan in store for Draco Malfoy. But is Draco ready to become Voldemort's willing servant? He decides to ask Prof. Snape for advice and finds himself being whisked away to a safe hideout from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named- unfortunately his hideout happens to be the Burrow with those Muggle loving Weasleys! What's a Malfoy to do? (D/G). This is post OoTP. Draco's in his sixth year, and Ginny's in her fifth!
A/N: I don't know if this has been done before or not but I thought it would be fun. I hope you like it and sorry if there are many fics about this already! I just had to give it a go!
Chapter 1
Draco had been having the nightmares for two agonizing weeks. Every time he shut his eyes- he saw it. The bloodshed, the pain, the horrible screams and worst of all –himself-smiling at the carnage. Sure, he was known to be mean- heartless even. Sometimes he could be cold, and ruthless. But he had never imagined himself to be demented and evil. But in his dreams he was just that. It went beyond his childish remarks and pranks, and crossed over to psychotic. Draco did not want to be psychotic- he did not want to be the man he saw in his dreams-that man reminded him of his father.
"Hey, there's Potty, the Mudblood, and the Weasels!" Goyle, his long time companion laughed in is ear.
"Let's go mess with them," Pansy smirked.
But Draco only shrugged, continuing to stir his porridge with out taking a bite of it.
"So go already if you want," he snapped. He had more important things to do then think about clever ways to annoy the Dream Team.
"Well, it's no fun if you aren't going to come!" Pansy sulked, returning to her plate of food.
God I hate them, Draco thought. Sometimes you get stuck with the worst people for friends.
Draco turned his attention to the Professors eating breakfast at the front of the Great Hall. He surveyed them with mild interest. He hated so many of them. They were worthless, stupid gits with little academic talent. But then his eyes rested on his Potions Teacher. His favorite. He was as cruel, and dark as Draco fancied himself to be. He was a model of disdain and his insults of Potter and his group could only be topped by Draco himself.
Yes. Snape. Of course. Draco's mind raced. Snape was the only person he cold trust in all of Hogwarts. The only person worthy enough to hear about his many nightmares. He smiled as heard the bell ring through out school. He had Potions class first, and afterwards he would ask Professor Snape if he could have a word with him.
Draco jumped from his seat, leaving his friends to call after him. But he didn't wait for them. He wanted to get to class quickly. He would feel better once he was seated there, waiting for Snape to begin class. As he ran from the Great Hall, he felt someone push him hard from behind.
"Oh, excuse me," Ginny Weasley said apologetically.
Draco sneered at her but said nothing.
"What?," she asked. Almost looking hurt, "no witty comment about my family today?"
Draco sighed. He really didn't have time for this right now.
"Fine," he breathed "shouldn't you be out milking your mother right now? She is a dreadful cow!"
He knew it wasn't his best, but he was in hurry! What did the youngest Weasley want from him? He stared at her for a moment before returning to his original task: trying to get to Potions class. He hurriedly pushed his way through the swarm of people flocking out of breakfast and into the hallways. He was moving so quickly that he never heard Ginny's clever comment comparing his father to a pile of dung.
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No class had ever seemed so long to Draco. Each minute seemed to pass by at an increasingly slower pace. His mind could not concentrate on the Potion they were making and so it was an awful orange color instead of the vibrant red it was suppose to be. But he didn't care. He could afford to fail one potion. He was after all, the best student in his year in potions—not counting that horrible Mudblood Granger.
Finally class ended and everyone filed out of the dark classroom, leaving Draco alone with Professor Snape. He quietly approached the professor as he sat marking papers at his desk.
"Excuse me, Professor Snape. But might I have a word with you?" Draco asked in an unusually polite tone.
Snape snapped his head up and looked curiously at the boy in front of him.
"Of course Mr. Malfoy." He said getting up and closing the door to the room.
Draco sighed heavily. He couldn't believe that he was finally about to tell someone about his nightmares.
"It's my dreams."
Snape only nodded.
"I've been having these bad dreams for a few weeks now. I mean, their not exactly dreams. Nightmares, really…" Draco trailed off. He hated sounding so pathetic. He knew he sounded like that worthless Potter did whenever he ran to Dumbledore about every silly thing.
"What do you see in these dreams?" Snape asked, showing no expression on his face.
"Oh-just things. You know-death. A lot of death and blood and pain…" Draco could have gone on for hours.
"And who is causing all of this death and pain?"
How had Snape known to ask that question? Malfoy wondered.
"Me sir."
The silence surrounding them was deafening. Draco prayed that Snape would say something- Anything.
"I see. And how does that make you feel?"
"How do you think? It makes me feel awful! You probably think I would love it, don't you? But I don't! I never thought I would be able to murder someone. And then there I am –in my dream-laughing as I kill hundreds of people!" Draco stopped himself and realized for the first time that he was now screaming at his favorite teacher. How had that happened? He wondered as he tried to calm himself down.
"Good."
"Good?" Malfoy could not believe his ears. What could Snape possibly find good about his dreams?
"If it means what I think it does-then yes-it's good that it repulses you. Of course, you'll have to go into hiding at the end of the school term…" Snape was lost in his own thoughts.
Hiding? The school year had only two weeks left and then he would have to hide? Why?
"What is going on? What does my dream mean?"
Snape stopped muttering plans to himself and looked deep into Draco's gray eyes.
"It means that Lord Voldemort wants you to serve him. It means that he wants you to kill for him. But it also means that you don't have it in you to become a Death Eater."
Draco was shocked at his words. It was his fate to become a Death Eater, wasn't it? He had always assumed that he didn't have a choice.
"I'll go and speak to Professor Dumbledore about where you will be hiding out for the summer. I'll contact you as soon as I know." Snape said ushering Draco out into the hall way.
Draco nodded--still numb to the revelation. If he wasn't cruel enough to be a Death Eater and not kind enough to be on the good side—where did he belong?
Please be kind and review. Oh, and this is my first H.P. fic.