Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters etc.
A/N This is my first fic ever (scary). Set around the beginning of HBP most things from previously will stay the same but I might change up a scene or two. Hope you enjoy xx
He was stuck. Stood in the middle of a whirlwind of colours. Blacks and Greys swirled around him, pulling his head around and suffocating him. He couldn't think straight, it was like his thought were being dragged from his head and into the uncontrollable hurricane of colour surrounding him. A streak of platinum blond mixed with a grey so pale it was almost white slashed past him so rapidly it spun his entire body around. The speed of the colours was so fast it created a tornado, keeping him in the eye of the colour storm. A vibrant flash of green and red wrapped itself around him before vanishing into the grey. He could hear distant screams and yells but couldn't quite figure out where they were coming from. Everything stopped at once and he was standing at the bottom of a narrow spiral staircase, looking behind him at the blank wall and realising the only way out was up, he began to climb the stairs. Gripping the stair rail he edged around the tight bend of the stairwell taking as many steps at once as his legs would allow him to. The further up he got, the narrower the stairwell became and the taller the steps. After what seemed like hours of climbing he reached a small door, cautiously pushing it open he crawled out into a small shop full of unusual objects and even more unusual people. At the centre of the group was a tall pale man dressed entirely in black. Looking around he realised that although he could vaguely recollect seeing some of the faces before many of them were masked and even more had their backs to him. Standing up straight he watched as the tall man started to slowly glide forwards.
Extending his hand towards him the man began to speak. "Hold out your arm for me dear boy" He hissed "Hold out your arm dear boy and you shall be forgiven." Refusing to hold out his arm he started to back away, reaching behind him for the door only to find that it had vanished and he was once again stuck. The pale man continued to glide towards him, the strange people also began to move forwards, those who had had their backs to him turned round and without warning everyone in the room joined in with the man's hisses "Hold out your arm boy"
"Be a good boy and hold out your arm"
"Don't you want to be forgiven boy?"
"Hold out your arm"
The people continued to move closer and closer, enclosing the boy in a sea of black robes and hissed words.
"No" he cried dropping to the floor and covering his head with his arms "NO!"
Draco woke suddenly, drenched in a cold sweat.
Sitting bolt upright he fumbled around on the floor by his bed quickly grabbing his wand and breathing a quiet lumos charm allowing his room to be flooded with light. Swiftly dimming the light at the tip of his wand as to not disturb his Mother in the room down the hall he swung his pyjama clad legs out from under the duvet and planted his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. Stopping only to grab a thick woollen cloak to pull around himself, Draco stumbled to the door of his oversized room. Pushing it open cautiously he tiptoed down the long, dark corridor to what once would have been the servants stairs in the old manor house Draco called home.
When he reached the bottom, feeling comfortable that he was out of earshot of anybody upstairs, Draco relaxed his figure and strode across the kitchen, cloak flowing behind him, to flick on the bright spotlights that had been fitted throughout the manor some years previously. His Father had agreed (very reluctantly) to the use of various muggle inventions in the house, for convenience and practicality if nothing else, and for this Draco was thankful. Lucius might not have put his prejudices completely to the side, if at all, but he had certainly moved out of the dark ages, unlike his sister-in-law, Draco's Aunt Bella who refused to have any association with anything remotely connected with the non magical vermin she considered below herself. Draco was surprised she even wore clothes as he was pretty sure they had been invented by muggles as well as more modern things like electricity.
The thought of his Aunt marching down Diagon Ally stark naked popped into Draco's mind and he shuddered at the thought.
Draco made his way over to the cupboard, putting out the light at the end of his wand and shoving it into the pocket of his cloak, and began to make himself a pot of hot chocolate. He could have summoned one of the house elves, they were always happy to help, Draco especially as he was the only Malfoy, including his Mother, who spoke to them with respect and treated them like people. However he didn't think that a mug of hot chocolate was worth waking the household staff over. Draco had always preferred to make his chocolate the muggle way anyway, measuring out the powder and water, it relaxed him, he thought it tasted better and (though he would never admit this to anybody) he did it because he knew it annoyed his Father.
His Father. That was what had woken him. Draco immediately remembered the reason he was up at such an unwizardly hour. He'd had another nightmare. Not that he was surprised, just annoyed, he hadn't slept properly for months now. Not since...no. Draco didn't want to think about that now. He pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to pour the boiling water over the chocolate powder and pick up his steaming mug. Carrying it over to the table, he sat down and took a long sip of the hot silky liquid. Placing the mug down and burying his head in his hands Draco began to replay the nightmare over and over in his head like he had done so many times before. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep again was that he wished he had been as brave as the boy in his nightmare.
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"Are you alright Draco? You've been awfully quiet all day." Pansy purred into his ear, continuing to gently drag her fingers through his hair and across his scalp. God she's so fucking clingy. He thought. Is she stroking my fucking head? Seriously Parkinson get the fuck off me! He was screaming in his head. He really didn't know why he bothered being friends with her, let alone anything more, but he knew it pleased his parents. The Parkinsons were very old family friends and he couldn't do anything to jeopardise this generations old bond, especially now that the Malfoys were so lowly regarded within their social circles. Mostly due to his Father's failure as a servant of the Dark Lord and his consequential imprisonment in Azkaban.
He sighed, sitting up and shuffling along the bench out of Pansy's reach he reassured her that he was perfectly alright, just a bit tired. This was perfectly true, he still hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since the first week in the holidays and he as still having the same nightmare over and over again. Last night however Draco hadn't gone back to sleep afterwards, he was too busy worrying about the coming year at Hogwarts, the secrets he would have to keep and the things he would inevitably have to do. No matter how hard he tried, Draco couldn't forget the task he had been burdened with, or the mark that had been branded into the skin on his left arm less than a month after his Father had been arrested for the attempted murder of six, fifth year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students that his son was all too familiar with.
A small part of Draco still blamed himself for this. If he had kept control of the Weasley girl then maybe Harry Potter and his little gang of do gooders would never have made it the Ministry, and maybe his Father would be sat at home in his study receiving praise from Voldemort himself for retrieving whatever it was Lucius was meant to have retrieved from the Department of Mysteries. And then Draco would maybe have been able to enjoy his sixth year of school rather than worrying about how the fuck he was going to kill his headmaster. Or maybe his pathetic excuse of a Father would have ended up in Azkaban anyway, because maybe that's where he deserved to be.
Draco was dragged away from his thoughts by the deep calm voice of his best friend Blaise telling him to "get his robes on, we're nearly at Hogwarts"
Ten minutes later Draco and his fellow Slytherins were all settled down in their robes and chatting about how they couldn't wait to have free lessons and how they no longer had to take divination "Load of hippogriff shit if you ask me" Theo joked. The compartment erupted in a series of snorts, guffaws and one very noticeable high pitched giggle, coming from Theo's girlfriend Astoria Greengrass (a nice enough fifth year who unfortunately had an unbreakable habit of following her older sister Daphne, and her friends around like an annoying Hufflepuff). As the laughter died down Draco could have sworn he saw one of the trunks move, he shook it off, assuming it must just be the lack of sleep but then he saw it again and he heard a slight knock coming from behind the moving trunk.
When the train stopped and everyone else had grabbed their things, Draco hung back a second or two, pulling his wand out of his robe he aimed just behind the moving case "Petrificus Totalus" and just as he had suspected, Potter fell down from the luggage rack, his invisibility cloak fluttering off his motionless body. "Spying Potter?" Draco spat down at him "Did your Mother never tell you that was rude? Oh wait! You never had a Mother, did you Potter?" Kicking Harry in his ribs, Draco heard a muffled groan before he spun around and marched off the train.
He had no idea why he was so furious but he spent the rest of the journey to Hogwarts in silence. He should have done more than petrify Potter and kick him in the gut. The nerve he had, what did he expect to learn from spying on them? Draco wondered Unless... But no. How could Potter possibly know about the Mark.
It all came flooding back to him then, how on that awful day two months ago he had seen a flash of ginger and a blur of bushy brown hair, and where there was Weasley and Granger...there was Potter.
He recalled seeing the more noticeable members of the Golden Trio, as they were so often called, down Knockturn Alley as he had slipped through the shadows making his way to Borgin and Burke's for the ceremony. They might have followed him that far but there was no way they could have known what was happening. No way they could have seen Voldemort practically float across the room, reaching for Draco's arm, telling him that if he just did this one...little thing, that his family would be redeemed and his Father's life spared. Draco, convinced his secret was safe from the so called Golden Trio and that Potter was just a nosey little bastard who couldn't help sticking his nose into anything remotely suspicious, sat back in the carriage and relaxed for the rest of the trip to Hogwarts.
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"Oh Harry! You can't possibly expect us to take you seriously. He was probably a little bit pissed of because you hid in his compartment to spy on him!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I'm telling you 'Mione, it was more than a little temper tantrum. He looked furious, and even a little scared. Scared that I'd heard something he didn't want me to hear, didn't want anyone to hear judging by the locked door. He's up to something no good I promise you Hermione." Harry insisted, glancing over Hermione's shoulder at Ron for support. Ron, usually up for bad mouthing any of the Slytherins, just shrugged his shoulders and made a non-committal grunt in return and shoved another slice of chocolate cake into his already full mouth.
Rolling her eyes at Harry, Hermione decided not to protest any further. He'd been like this since the three of them had seen Malfoy looking around suspiciously before disappearing into Borgin and Burke's at the beginning of the summer, persistently insisting that he was up to no good and working for Voldemort in place of his Father Lucius. There really was no point arguing any more, Harry would continue on his warpath against Draco Malfoy until one or the other was dead...or worse. Expelled. She chuckled to herself in memory of first year Hermione who had never even returned a library book late. Now look at yourself. She thought. Battling Death Eaters after breaking out of the school, what next? Running around kissing them! Laughing out loud at the absurdity of her thoughts earned herself an odd look from Harry. "Just a funny thought." She supplied as way of explanation for her unusual outburst. "Anyway, shouldn't we go and unpack?"
"Practical to the last second 'Mione, we can always count on you to think straight and put us in our places." Harry laughed getting up off the bench and heading to the doors of the Great Hall.
"Bu m ill e in!" Protested Ron who was quickly gathering more food onto his plate.
"What was that Ron? I didn't quite catch what you said, you're still eating."
"I said." Ron growled after swallowing "That I am still. Eating."
"Oh come on Ron! You've eaten more than me and Harry put together can't you live without that last swiss roll?" Hermione laughed. Grudgingly leaving the table and his seventh helping of pudding behind Ron trudged out of the Hall behind his friends grumbling about cake, and jelly and ice cream.
A/N Bit of a necessary filler chapter to introduce the story etc, hopefully things will get going in the next chapter, Unedited, hope you like, please review and tell me how to do things better. Also not sure if I like the name or not yet so it might change xx