Disclaimer: I AM NOT JKR FOR STARCLAN'S SAKE!
Draco has always been my favorite character, and it has nothing to do with Tom Felton's looks. He's just so emotionally complex. So I decided to write one of his most important scenes, from his point of view.
This was originally going to be a oneshot of, but I got writer's blocked and anyway the whole thing was going to be way too long, so I'm cutting it up into several chapters. Enjoy!
Draco Malfoy ran up the narrow steps, one hand resting lightly on the banister, the other holding his wand. Both hands were trembling slightly. The sound of his shoes bounced off the walls and reverberated in the confined space until his progress was marked by loud crashes which were surely audible from above.
Behind him followed a group of people who terrified him utterly.
He could hear the sound of their footsteps, their labored breathing. A thud and a feral, muted growl came from behind him, and he knew that Greyback must have tripped. He would be up on his feet again, though, any moment now. Draco gritted his teeth to steady himself - not that it did any good. What wouldn't he give for the whole lot of them to fall backwards down those stairs, to fade out of his life and take with them his terrifying, insurmountable task and the prickling in his left forearm...
But none of that would help him now.
Draco stopped. He had reached the top of the steps, and he closed his eyes, taking deeps gasps of air. He could hear the others assemble behind him, could almost feel their gazes scorching the back of his head.
"What are you waiting for, Draco?" whispered a voice directly behind him. Bellatrix. "We all know you can do it. There's no need to be afraid." Of course she would say that. Trying to lull him into a false sense of security, putting on her Auntie Bella act, when he knew she was just using him to gain favor with her precious Dark Lord. He bit his lip, considering... It was not too late now. He could always turn back, run away... and then what? He would not get halfway down the stairwell - his so-called allies would hit him with a curse as soon as he betrayed an inkling of fear... No, he had to see it through.
Draco took a deep breath, placed his hand on the knob... then burst through the door.
As he did so, he raised his wand, pointed blindly, and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he shut his eyes, expecting a rapid and terrible retribution... but nothing happened. He remained stock still, standing where he was with his eyes squeezed shut.
"Good evening, Draco."
Draco's eyes snapped open. Albus Dumbledore stood before him, white in the face but seemingly unruffled. He had no wand.
A surge of hope rose in Draco's chest. For the first time that night, he contemplated the possibility of living to see the morning. He had been sure that even if Dumbledore did not kill him, then he would fail and have to face the wrath of Lord Voldemort... But he might actually live, might actually survive, if he could just carry out this one, final, crucial act.
To be continued and all that... REVIEW! And while you're at it, go read my story The Resistance of the Doe, okay? Kthanx.
REVIEW!