One thing straight. This is not a romance. The OC only exists to tell Draco's story.

The Lost Story of Kynton Trevena;

As I looked at the huge mansion that was Draco Malfoy's house, I couldn't help but laugh softly to myself. It was only the second week of summer after our fifth year at Hogwarts, and I'd already snuck into his house without his parents knowing seven times. I was quite proud of myself; not to mention that every time I'd snuck in, I'd climbed three stories' worth of vines to get to Draco's bedroom window.

I was just a few feet off the ground when Draco stuck his head out of his window.

"Hurry up, you stupid Blood Traitor. They'll see you!" He cried jokingly, laughing.

"Shut up," I called up, smile on my face.

His casual, teasing use of the term Blood Traitor reminded me of our first year. I'd found it so strange that he hadn't cared of my blood status then… Now I understood, though.

I stared down the bustling halls of the Hogwarts Express. Swallowing down hard, I took a few steps forward, not comfortable with all this. I didn't know if I was supposed to just sit, or if there was some order to it all. Being a First Year with no older sibling to help was a hassle. People moved on either side of me as I pushed my way down the aisle. Every cabin-area I passed by for quite awhile was filled. I began to worry that I wouldn't find an open one.

Near the back of the train, I found one inhabited by only one individual. There were only a few cabins left towards the end, so I figured this was my best bet. I knocked once before sliding the door open.

"C-can I sit in here?" I asked tiredly.

The boy turned towards me, his blue-grey eyes looking me over a moment. "Sure."

"Thanks…" I responded softly.

I set my stuff down and sat on the opposite side of the cabin from the boy. We didn't say anything for a few moments, just stared out the window. Finally, he broke it.

"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He said, almost cockily.

I hesitated. I knew that name. I'd heard they were snotty Purebloods who disliked any Muggle-borns or "Blood Traitors." And my family would have most definitely been considered a Blood Traitor by the Malfoys. "I'm Kynton Trevena." I brushed my bright, nearly-Malfoy-coloured blonde hair back behind my ear nervously. I expected him to make some sign of disgust; it never came.

"Oh, a Trevena?" He had a strange look in his eyes—almost hopeful—as he extended his hand to me. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, uh you too." I was surprised. This boy didn't seem to share the rest of his family's beliefs. Though the Malfoys seemed quite oppressive; surely he followed them… I nearly shook my head. I couldn't carry these pre-conceptions. Draco was obviously different.

Well, at least in private he was. When we were at the school, we came across that Harry Potter child along with a Muggle-born, Hermione Granger, and another child of a Blood Traitor family, Ron Weasley. I'd kind of drifted from Draco, but I saw everything between the four. Draco was calling Hermione a Mudblood and spitting insults to Ron. This puzzled me, for I was watching his eyes. Draco's eyes were on the verge of afraid. What could he be afraid of? Everything in his eyes said he did not want to be there… saying those things…. Every emotion other than malice, joy, and cruelty was in his eyes.

I wanted—needed—to know more about Draco Malfoy.

I suppressed a smile. A lot had change since then. We looked different—Draco's face had become more angular, more mature; I'd dyed the underside of my hair black; Draco was now much, much taller than I; the list went on and on—and we were different.

I'd probably changed the most. I couldn't imagine climbing up a three-story mansion as a first year. Being in Slytherin had made me bolder, not the scared little girl I had been.

The best part was that I'd chosen this. I knew I'd wanted to be Slytherin, and apparently so did that Hat. Another flashback from my first year briefly ran through my mind.

"Slytherin!"

I watched as a small, triumphant, but almost scared smirk crossed Draco's face. He hopped down from the chair, joining the Slytherin table.

I waited and waited as the list of names dwindled down to the Ts.

Finally, McGonagall called out, "Trevena, Kynton!"

I didn't fail to notice Draco's eyes on me as I seated myself on the stool. I took a deep breath as I felt the hat being placed on my head.

The debate was not nearly as short as Draco's had been.

Occasionally, the hat would say a word or two aloud, but mostly I heard a low hum around my ears.

Hmm… oh yes. This is difficult. The heart of a Slytherin, mind of a Ravenclaw, spirit of a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff… why yes… very difficult…

"Please, Slytherin," I whispered. I was pretty sure only the Hat had heard.

Slytherin? Interesting day, this is. Potter didn't want it, Malfoy was no debate, you want it… tricky, tricky… but, if you want it, I'll give it to you. Plus, Malfoy needs you.

I barely caught that last sentence through the Hat's cry of "Slytherin!"

I wondered what had been my motivation that day to want Slytherin. Yes, I'd briefly met Malfoy, so I knew there would be someone there for me. But other than that, there was no reason. It had been a spur of the moment desire. Apparently the Sorting Hat knew Draco and I would be friends.

But those words it had spoken still haunted me. Plus, Malfoy needs you. Why did he need me? I still hadn't figured that out. The Hat would not have said that if he just needed a friend. Besides, he had Crabbe and Goyle. No, I was—or would be—something else to Draco.

I was at the second floor by this time, Draco still staring down at me impatiently.

"I swear, if I have to come down there…" he threatened, his smile never fading.

I shook my head at him amusedly as I pulled myself higher on the vines. Once I was under his window, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me into the window. I stumbled in, laughing.

"You're so loud! One day we're gonna get caught," he hissed, grinning.

I laughed. "Yeah, I know, but it won't be today, so we're good."

"Eh, you're probably right." Draco paused. "So what great things shall we do today, Kynton?"

"Don't know, Draco," I responded, lying on his bed.

He lay down next to me. "Well, we could always—"

"Draco! Get down here!" Draco's mother's voice rang through the house, cutting into Draco's words

He and I exchanged a glance. Draco blanched. He immediately stood up, his eyes darting nervously around. "I better go see what she wants. Hide under the bed until I'm back, m'kay? I don't think anyone will come in anyway…"

I nodded once and scrambled to get under his bed. I peered out from under it, watching his feet hurriedly leave the bedroom. For a long time, I sat under his bed. After a few minutes I began playing with all the dust bunnies that were down there. I'd have to tell him to clean it up under here. But ten minutes of that could get tiresome. I began to get worried; ten minutes was too long for a simple little conversation from his mother. One of two things was happening: Either someone was over to speak with Draco (Which could be a bad thing) or one of his family members was making him do something (Which probably wasn't a bad thing). But something was inclining me towards the first one. If he was being told to do something petty like a chore, he could have sneaked back up here to just let me know.

Five minutes passed, then five more, then five more. By this time I was very close to getting up and just finding him. I had just about formed my resolve to not care what happened to me when his bedroom door flew open. I saw his black boots nearly stumble in the room.

As soon as the door was shut, he gasped, "Ky-Kynton?"

I pulled myself out from under his bed hastily, staggering to my feet. "Yes? What's wrong? What happened?"

I quickly surveyed his appearance. Draco's eyes were wide and scared, his fingers were shaking weakly, and his lower lips trembled. He resembled a small, shaking child. I had to resist my every urge to not pull him into a hug right then and there.

"The Dark Lord was down there," he whispered.

I gaped. My breath caught, and I barely choked out, "Really? In your house? Are, are you…?"

Draco merely nodded. "There's… there's something he wants me to do. He says… the Dark Lord said it would… avenge my father. I-I have t-to t-tr…" He trailed off into incoherent stutters. He shook his head and brought his hand to his mouth, pressing his palm against his lips almost angrily.

"What is it that he wants you to do, Draco?" I asked softly, taking his hands in mine. "Did he tell you?"

He nodded feebly. "I have… he said killing someone was th-the only-y way…. He did not tell me who it was, b-but… but h-he looked like he had an idea-a…" The way his voice cracked and his body shook, one would have thought Draco would cry. But he held it back. I was expecting it any moment, but I should have known; Draco was practically afraid to cry. His family wouldn't have that.

"You don't have to do this."

"But my father… it is…" his voice faded.

"Draco, you can't kill someone. I… I honestly don't think you could…" I met his eyes, and, by the way his gaze fell sadly, I was pretty sure he knew that. "An-and… I think the Dark Lord knows that… I think…" My voice fell to a whisper, "What if he wanted to get you killed? What if it turns to his revenge and not yours, like you plan…?"

Draco did not look back to my eyes. "I don't know what to do, Kynton."

It was then that I pulled him into a hug. It was like hugging a giant, he was so tall. But at the same time, it was like comforting a child. I held him tightly, knowing his fear. He didn't usually show such vulnerability.

"You could always stand up to him, you know," I whispered in his ear.

He laughed softly. "Good one."

I laughed lightly as well. "Yeah, I guess it is…"

x

Six weeks later, summer was ending, and I was sneaking once more into the Malfoy mansion via vines up the side of the wall. Like usual, I climbed the vines hurriedly.

But unlike usual, I had a reason other than trying not to be seen by the other Malfoys—and Lestrange—to get up the wall quickly. I'd gotten an owl less than an hour ago from Draco saying that he needed to talk to me about something rather important. I got over here as soon as I could.

Once I was to Draco's window, I found it cracked open for me. I thought it odd that he wasn't waiting there like usual. I pushed it opened slowly and climbed as noiselessly as possible into Draco's bedroom.

As soon as my feet hit the black marble floor with a click, I looked over and saw Draco lying on his bed shaking.

"Draco," I gasped. I ran up and collapsed down on his bed next to him, gently resting my hand on his back. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"V-Voldemort," he hissed, acid laced deep in his voice. I was surprised by Draco's use of Voldemort's name and the vulgarity that came with it.

"I-I… what is it?"

He whispered, "It's Dumbledore."

Thoughts whirred in my head for a moment before it clicked. "Th-the killing?"

Draco nodded feebly. "I never-r liked the man but killing him? I-I-I… I… it…"

I softly ran my fingers over his back, attempting to calm him, if only slightly. "You don't have to do it," I said gently. "You could…" My mind rang with what I'd said before: You could always stand up to him. It seemed so far-fetched now. "…stand up to him…" But my mouth ran dry at these words; I knew it wouldn't work. Were it anyone but Voldemort, yes. But…

He gave a humourless laugh. It was all the answer I needed.

"I know it's crazy, but—"

The door flew open, slamming into the wall. Draco and I gasped, our gazes ripping towards the door. Bellatrix Lestrange laughed darkly. She stepped in, closing the door behind her softly. Draco scrambled to a sitting position.

"A-aunt Bellatrix…"

"I knew there was someone here," she hissed, walking across the room. "A Trevena Blood Traitor, no less…"

"I-I…"

"Silence, Draco…" She appeared to be thinking. Her sharp eyes surveyed me keenly, scrutinisingly. "She… which one are you?"

"E-excuse me?" I nearly squeaked.

"Your name," Bellatrix seethed.

"K-Kynton."

"Kynton…?" she laughed softly. She walked over to where the two of us were seated on Draco's bed. Bellatrix leaned over, looking me in the eyes. I felt my breath get caught in my throat. She dragged her nails up my arm, resting just under my chin to hold my face up. She smirked. Her other hand grabbed the collar of my shirt; her opposite hand fell from my chin. "Why are you here?"

I remained silent.

She tightened her grip on my shirt. "Why?"

I took a deep breath, swallowing down hard. "He's my friend," I whimpered.

Bellatrix cackled. "Your friend, huh?" Her other hand curled around my shirt collar frustratedly. "Maybe your friend should have told you that Blood Traitors are not welcome here…!" She lifted me slightly and threw me to the floor.

A loud gasp escaped my lips as I slid a short distance, feeling my skin burn as it was dragged across the hard floor. I felt paralyzed as I lay there. My vision blurred for a moment, snapping back into focus as I stared up at Bellatrix and Draco across the room. Draco stared back, horrified.

"K-Kynton!" He gasped, reaching out towards me.

"Silence, boy!" she screeched, grabbing hold of his shirt and slamming him to the wall his bed was pushed against. "She's just a filthy Blood Traitor…"

"I… I…" I could tell the blow had hurt him. "She's… more than that…"

Bellatrix turned sharply back to look at me. She let go of Draco and stooped down in front of me. She stared at me for no less than a minute before she once more grabbed my shirt. This time, though, she simply pulled me out of my heap to my knees. I was still slightly dazed, and I didn't entirely feel it when she ran her nails down my face. I flinched.

"Stupid girl… I'll teach you to mess with Pure Bloods like they're your equals…" She produced her wand from somewhere and murmured, "Crucio."

I screamed.

There were no words for what I felt; it was a fire burning my skin, an ice freezing my veins, an acid eating my mind. I could not comprehend the pain as it gripped my body mercilessly.

And then it stopped.

I gasped loudly, my eyes wide, my body rigid. Oh no, no…

"What now, Trevena?"

I just glared challengingly at her. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're implying."

She pressed her wand to my skin hard into my jaw, repeating the Unforgivable Curse. I barely flinched this time, though. I knew what Bellatrix was like. She liked to see her victims in pain. I would not give her that. So inside, I was screaming my lungs out. My few logical thoughts raced through my mind and got jumbled, losing their coherency quickly.

There were seven seconds of pure agony.

And then it stopped as quickly as it'd come. Bellatrix's eyes narrowed at me angrily. She looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she remained quiet. Her eyes said it all.

My silence had enraged her.

"You're a quiet one are you?" she hissed, leaning into my face.

I glared into her eyes; I refused to even blink. After a moment, she just growled and threw me back against the tile.

"Draco…" she said, her voice turning sickly sweet.

"Y-yes?" His voice cracked.

"What do you have to say for her?" she demanded.

"Please, stop," was all he could whisper. "Stop hurting her… Please. She's done nothing wrong—"

"Her very essence is wrong!" she screeched. Bellatrix wrapped her hands around her nephew's neck, throwing him too to the floor.

I gingerly reached over, wrapping my hand around his. He'd just glanced over to meet my eyes when a scream tore from my lips once again. I couldn't stop it; I hadn't been prepared for the Crucio that time.

It was worse now as well. I wanted nothing more than to die in those moments. The world lost its meaning, my surroundings had been ripped out from around me, and Draco had faded away. It was only me and my torture.

My whole body jerked, curling in on itself. I wrapped my arms around my torso, holding myself tight. It felt like that was the only thing keeping me together.

And as soon as it stopped, that was when the tears hit. My body was convulsing for a different reason now. I couldn't stop myself from sobbing. Not caring Bellatrix was there, I crawled across the floor and wrapped my arms around Draco. He pulled me against his chest, holding me there.

"You're disgusting," I heard Bellatrix seethe.

"See if I care," Draco retorted. I felt his grip tighten around me.

That made me sob harder.

"Draco. Let go of her."

"No."

"Draco."

I heard no response. Abruptly, I felt my head get jerked back by my hair. I let out a short cry of pain.

"Stop!"

"Let go of her."

"Just do it, Draco, I'm fine," I whimpered, my hands moving to my hair, my face twisting in agony.

Slowly, I felt his hands slip away from me. I found myself lying on the floor once more. I stared up at Bellatrix as she leered down at me. She looked like she was plotting what to do to me next.

I hated the way that she then looked to Draco.

"Tell me, now, what she's done wrong," Bellatrix commanded.

Immediately, "Nothing," he replied flatly.

"Tell me what she's done wrong." Her voice was more assertive now.

"Nothing."

She lifted her wand threateningly at him. "You will tell me what she's done wrong or—!"

"Just tell her!" I croaked, "Tell her I'm a filthy Blood Traitor. Tell her I'm a terrible person! Just do it…!"

Draco's eyes darted fearfully between her and myself. Very carefully, he then whispered, voice cracking, "She's a Blood Traitor."

"And why is that wrong, Draco…?"

"Because…" Eyes wide, he stared over at me, "because we are Pure Bloods and… better. We are the only ones to the right to magic." His voice broke, his fingers shook.

"Very good, boy." She dragged her fingers along his chin, a leer on her face. "And what do we do to those who do not have the right to magic?"

Draco stiffened, face paling.

"Oh, you know, don't you…?" she hissed.

He stared straight ahead. "No." But then, he wasn't answering the question. It was a plead.

Without even looking at me, Bellatrix reached up with her wand. She pressed it into my chin sharply.

"What do we do… Draco?" she whispered.

"Bellatrix, please, no. Stop."

"You're weak."

"I am not."

"Then why not answer a simple question…?"

No response.

At that time, Bellatrix jerked around, digging her wand harder into my chin. I cringed back, though it stayed just as sharp. She grinned sadistically, her face a hair's width from mine. "Do you know what we do?"

I just stared at her, not blinking.

"Of course. No wonder you think you're friends with Draco… just alike. Pathetic." She pursed her lips angrily. "Well, how about I just tell you what we do to your kind? You disgusting traitors…" Her smile grew, "We kill them."

As she brought her wand back, I didn't even have time to breath a sigh of relief for the release of pressure. Her lips parted wickedly, and Draco cried out.

A group of familiar words came to mind as I came to grip with what was about to happen. "Plus, Malfoy needs you." Was this it? I thought, internally shaking my head. Hopefully, I'd given him hope. That was all he needed in anyone.

Knowing what was coming, I smiled and mouthed the only four words I could think of before my vision was choked out by wisps of green, my ears filled with only one phrase.

Avada Kadavra.

x

"Kynton!" I screamed, lunging forward, my fingers grasping the empty air.

But it was to no avail. My fingers barely grazed my aunt's arm. Nothing would stop her now. Nothing would, could, stop her from inflicting what she thought was a sort of righteous judgement by herself.

As the sickly green flew from the tip of her wand, I felt myself breaking. I collapsed onto the floor, hitting it hard. I peered up at her, barely catching the movement of her lips as her body crumpled to the floor. I'm so sorry, Draco.

"B-Bellatrix, why...?" I gasped. Stretching my fingers out, I could just barely touch Kynton's fingertips.

"She deserved it," was her only response.

"No, she didn't!" I screamed, tearing my wand out as I scrambled upwards. "She didn't!"

Bellatrix eyed my wand, unimpressed. "Put it away, Draco."

"N-no..."

She lifted her own wand, using it to push mine downward. My shaking hands couldn't find the strength to push back. Then she pointed to Kynton with her wand-tip and said, very matter-of-factly, "That is what happens to impure-Blooded wizards." Very slowly, her wand turned to point me straight in the eyes. "That could be you, Draco."

x

That could be you, Draco. Those words pounded in my ears, fighting with Kynton's. You could always stand up to him.

The conflicting ideas drove me mad.

I couldn't think straight for the longest time. I so wanted to honour Kynton. She would have been so proud if I had opposed Voldemort. Every time I felt myself oppressed into something by my father, all I could feel was remorse. Remorse that Kynton had died in vain by the spite of my own family. I tried to voice what I knew was her will; my will; what was right.

But in the end, whenever I stood up, I was only pounded back into place, into submission. Nothing I said was heard, for Crucio screamed louder than I ever could.