"I want to show you something," Draco said.
"Show me what?" the robed person replied, with their hood over their head, their face hidden from all onlookers.
"Well, if all goes as well as I hope, my life."
"Pardon?" the robed person said, seeming shocked.
"You heard, my life. From all angles of my family."
Draco pulled three small glass containers, each barely bigger than a fingernail, filled with a red substance which seemed like blood.
"Is that blood?"
"Of course it is, don't be daft, what else would it be?" Draco answered, opening each of them, as he grabbed a small glass vial from nearby.
"And who exactly is the lucky blood donor?"
"Not singular, they're all from different people. My father, my mother, and I. Weren't you listening when I said from all angles of my family," Draco replied in irritation.
"I was, but the way you're speaking it's hard to understand a thing you're saying."
"Whatever. Anyway, this might hurt a little when it starts," Draco said nonchalantly, as he poured the contents of the small containers into the vial.
"What do you mean it might hurt? Like Crucio hurt? Punch in the arm hurt? What kinda hurt?" said the person, who started to get rather flustered.
"Oh don't be such a sook," Draco snapped. He had poured the blood into the vial, and lit a flame under it with his wand. The spell said to heat it at the average heat for a Fire Spell, and to keep it heating for two minutes until it turned a dark shade of violet. He had it there for one minute, and then the spell flickered out.
"Stupid bloody wand, can't even perform spells properly. Here hold this," Draco said, handing the vial to the hooded figure.
He hit the end of his wand against his palm, then tapped the end of it with his finger. All of a sudden, dark blue flames shot out the end in a thin stream of light, burning the end of his right index finger.
"Fuck!" Draco said loudly. He looked at his finger, then put it in his mouth to cool it down. He took it out and it had left a light brown shape there, a circle from the end of the wand, standing out on his pale skin, the only blemish on his clean hands.
"Are you okay?" The figure asked in concern.
"I'm fine," Draco said with his teeth clenched. He released some of his frustration by throwing the wand at a nearby bush, which by the way was still spurting out flames, therefore setting the bush on fire.
Fortunately, the figure had kept the vial heated with their wand.
"Here, is this what its supposed to look like?"
"Yeh, that's it. Pass it here."
The figure passed Draco the vial, and he took it with his left hand, clenching his fingers around the warm glass. Draco put a cork in the top of the vial, and curled his bottom lip into a shape so that he could blow into his left eye. He did so until it began to water, then he unplugged the vial, and let the tears drop in. He shook it up again, and it turned a brilliant sapphire.
"Okay. You don't mind drinking foreign liquids do you?" Draco asked as he handed the vial over.
"Actually, I don't usually drink potions when I don't know what they are, but I suppose I can make an exception," said the figure, and they put their thumb on the opening on the vial.
"Drink up," Draco said.
GULP
They felt the liquid flow down their throat, searing it and making it hard to breathe.
"You get that sometimes," Draco said, leaning over towards the figure. "I forgot to mention, and I'm entirely sorry I didn't mention it before, but there is one thing that must be done to commence the spell."
"What?" The figure wheezed, gasping for air.
"Like I said, I'm sorry about this," Draco said, and he leaned his face over to the figure, and pressed his lips against their's, embracing in a kiss that wasn't quite passionate, but understanding in the least, and a mutual consent flowed through the both of them, then a rush of cold air flowed down both of their throats.
The figure closed their eyes from the vertigo of it all, and when they opened, things looked a lot different.
"Push Mrs Malfoy, you have to push!" The mediwizard yelled.
"I'm pushing as hard as I fucking can you stupid bald prick!" Narcissa screamed, partly in pain, mostly in anger.
"Now now, Mrs Malfoy, no need to get offensive," a nurse said from nearby.
"That's easy for you to say! You don't have a fucking child coming out of you!!" Narcissa screamed, throwing a vase at the nurse, who dodged it then ran out of the room, whilst pieces of porcelain shattered against the wall.
"My dear, if it hurts so much, why didn't you chose to have our child using wizard techniques, it would hurt far less," Lucius said, resting his hand on his wife's.
"Because those "wizarding techniques" usually end up disfiguring the baby, and I would rather our child have normal skin, instead of skin with red and black stripes!" Narcissa said, still trying to push as hard as she could, clenching onto Lucius' hand, and Lucius heard a strange cracking sound, and he was pretty sure one of his fingers had just been dislocated.
"Yeee-arrgh!!!" Narcissa bellowed as she pushed harder.
"Yes! That's it Mrs Malfoy, I can see a head! Keep pushing!" the mediwizard said excitedly.
Narcissa let out another loud scream as she pushed as hard as she could, mustering up all her strength to get the baby out of her.
"A shoulder! Another shoulder! We have an arm! One more big push Mrs Malfoy!"
"AARRGHH!!"
All was quiet, then...
"Waaaaaaa!!
The baby had come out, and the mediwizard was using the right spells to dry and to release the umbilical cord from the baby, making sure that it could breathe, and Summoned a blanket over to wrap the baby in.
"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Malfoy, you have a baby son," the mediwizard smiled as he passed the baby over to Narcissa.
"Lucius," Narcissa said through choked tears, "Isn't he beautiful?" She smiled, and brushed her hand over her new sons face.
"Of course he is, he's our baby, and definitely your son," Lucius said, resting his hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Do you want to hold him?"
"Of course."
Lucius took his son, and just rested him in his arms, looking at his new son. "You will be great my child, I will make sure of it," Lucius whispered to his child, which had a placid look on its face.
At that moment, Narcissa didn't know why, but she felt a cold breeze blow against her from nowhere. She looked around to see where it came from, but the dark green curtains on the window were motionless, and the door was perfectly still.
She was right to feel that way. Her son had a hard road ahead of him.
"Lucius, I feel sleepy, do you mind if I rest with our baby here, will you stay?" Narcissa asked.
"Of course, he needs to be with his mother, don't worry, the mediwizard will look after the both of you. I have to go for now, I'm supposed to meet someone, and it's very important that I do," Lucius said, and he kissed his wife and his son, and handed him back to her.
He started to walk out the door, when Narcissa called out to him.
"Lucius! We haven't named him, and I don't want to name him myself," Narcissa called out.
"Draco. That will be his name. Is that alright?" Lucius replied, almost impulsive.
"Draco. Yes, it's a wonderful name. Goodbye."
But as she looked up, all she saw of her husband were his robes swishing around the corner. She sighed, and lay down on the bed, cradling Draco next to her.
Draco woke up. Today was his first birthday, and he was so excited. His mummy said that he could meet some kids his age, and make some friends. He hoped they weren't like the kids at his daddy's parties, they were always so mean.
Mummy said that he'd get to meet Daddy's boss, and that he had organised it to be a lot of fun for him. Draco giggled in excitement, and sat down on the floor waiting for Nurse Silina to come in and help him get dressed.
"Draco? Are you in here?" Silina cooed.
"Yep!" Draco called back.
"Let's get you all snazzy for your party!" Silina said, and she came in and found the clothes Mrs Malfoy had gotten her son.
Little did Draco know, that the party wasn't only for him, but it was also a social get together for the staff of Hogwarts and from the Ministry of Magic.
They had all brought presents for Draco nonetheless.
"Here's the birthday boy!" Silina called out, and she walked down the stairs holding Draco's hand, leading him towards his parents, who were talking to Severus Snape and a woman Silina recognised as Professor Sinistra from Hogwarts. Of course, Draco didn't recognise any of these people except his parents, and their demeanour looked quite scary, so he hid behind his mothers dress.
All of them laughed, Draco couldn't understand why.
"Go play with the other kiddies over there Draco, they're around your age," Silina said, and she joined in the conversation with the rest, who were talking about the similarities between Draco and his parents.
Draco trotted over, a little shakily, to where a few adults and a bunch of kids were.
"Oh look, here comes Narcissa's kid, the one who this parties thrown for, isn't he a cutie?" A woman with red hair and green eyes cooed, as she came over and kneeled in front of Draco. "Hello Draco, that's your name isn't it?"
"Yep!" Draco said, smiling.
"Aww, he's so cute James, should we introduce our son to him?" the woman said to a man with black messy hair.
"I dunno Lily, his father is Lucius Malfoy, and you've heard the rumours," the man said sternly.
"Oh nonsense, this is his child, not his father, now come on," Lily said and she motioned for James to come with her as she helped Draco along to the other kids.
"Draco, this is our son Harry, Harry, this little boys name's Draco, why don't you play with him for a little while?" Lily said, and she went off with her husband who was socialising again.
The two boys looked at each other.
Draco blinked.
Harry blinked back.
The two boys, one a year old, the other only 8 months, looked at each other in amazement. Draco hadn't met any kids his own age apart from those nasty ones from his daddy's parties, and this boy didn't look particularly nasty. His daddy had taught him to put his hand out and grab the other persons and shake it, because his daddy did it all the time with his guests. Draco had learned a lot at home, Silina had taught him how to speak a few words, she was around him more than his parents, who were usually busy.
He put his hand out and the black haired boy looked at it, then put his hand out, and they did what was a vague resemblance of shaking hands.
Meanwhile, over somewhere else, Lucius was watching with disgust. Watching his son shake hands with one of those children whose parents were from the group that was the Dark Lord's main opposition.
They would get their own soon. Peter Pettigrew had met with him the year before, and if all went to plan, The Potter's would die in less than three months.
Lucius smiled an evil grin, then looked at his wife.
"Narcissa darling, what is our son doing?"
"He's playing with the Potter boy, isn't it sweet, I haven't seen him have so much fun in ages," Narcissa said gleefully.
"I won't have him associating with that sort," Lucius spat.
"He's not associating with any sort, he's just having fun, like any kid his age should," Narcissa said to her husband.
Lucius looked scornfully at his wife. He wouldn't have his child go weak. If he ever showed any signs, both of them would suffer for it. He would not have his offering to the Dark Lord ruined.
Draco walked along the paths of the gardens of Malfoy Manor. He was nine now, and his mother let him walk freely along the halls. He gazed at the roses on the walls. They were a navy blue, special enchanted roses, and the thorns were made of silver, and they were exceptionally sharp. He sat down on a bench, and looked at the thorns, which glittered like stars, sparkling what little sunlight there was on this overcast day. A dark cloud went over the sun, and the thorns dulled, no longer sparkling, just standing out on the black stems, like dull chrome.
Draco brushed his hand through his hair. He sighed, and a puff of mist came from out of his mouth. He got up, put his gloved hands in his pockets, and walked along the pebbled path, kicking one every now and then. His father had told him that he needed to learn magic, and he was excited. The first time was just to watch, and he hated it. His father had bought in a young white kitten, and Draco thought he was going to change it into something marvellous, but then when his father took his wand out of his cane, and said the word Crucio, Draco almost cried. His father was torturing the poor animal, and it was screeching out in pain. Draco couldn't watch it any longer, he grabbed the kitten from where it was, and ran as fast as he could, out to the garden, and turned the cat into an eagle owl, and let it fly away, far from the manor, away from his father.
His father went looking for him that day. He had hit him across the face with his cane, he split Draco's lip, and told him if he ever defied him again, that he'd get worse punishment than that. He sent Draco to his room, and he went. Silina found him later that day, and she cleaned up his lip, telling him to be careful. She told him she couldn't go against his father, she wished she could, but it was complicated than he could understand. Draco wondered why she was telling him this, but was happy to have someone to talk to.
Two floors below them, in a hidden part of the manor, his father was having a meeting with the Dark Lord.
"You have been one of my most trusted servants Lucius, I trust that you will hold true to your bargain, if you do, you shall receive great rewards," Voldemort said.
"I will fulfil the bargain my Lord, do not worry," Lucius said bowing his head.
"Worry? Me? That's preposterous. Just make sure the boy stays alive till the time is right," Voldemort said.
"I shall. He will. You will be in power stronger than before, even if I have to beat it into Draco, I will make sure he's ready," Lucius said.
"Very good. Farewell Lucius, do not disappoint me."
The black mist that Lucius was talking to dissipated, and left behind a sulphury smell.
Lucius picked up the piece of paper that was lying on a nearby desk, the main focus of the conversation he had had with his master.
He perused the piece of paper. It read:
I, Lucius Malfoy, decree that my firstborn child, Draco Malfoy, when at the age of eighteen, will lose his soul, and that soul shall be given to Lord Voldemort, in order to increase his power. I vow to this contract with my blood, and my child's. His soul will be taken from him on his eighteenth birthday.
His signature was written on the bottom. He smirked and threw the piece of paper in the fire, knowing that it would burn, but every day it would appear back on that desk. He felt like disciplining his son again.
Draco was age fifteen. He sat in his dormitory and closed his eyes.
He saw how his father had beaten his mother. How he tortured Draco with what he liked to call "discipline". He remembered when Lucius sent Silina away, and how he had to perform healing spells on himself. He remembered his father saying that he would make sure he'd suffer if he ever brought disgrace to the Malfoy name, which he had proved so many times. He remembered when the eagle owl came back to him, and how his father was arrogant, wondering why such a great bird would go to such a pathetic boy. He remembered all the names his father had called him, all the torturous spells he had received. He remembered how Gwen, his first love, had come along, and made his life brighter, giving him something to look forward to. He remembered how she had given birth to a child. He remembered all the rumours about how people had said she wasn't his, he remembered when she stabbed him in the chest, and he knew then that she was. He remembered how she gave him the gift of immortality, or the curse. He remembered Gwen disappearing. He remembered bringing Tom Riddle back with Ginny. He remembered being kidnapped by the Apaches, a rogue group of wizards, and what they did to him. He bit down on his bottom lip, not wanting to remember it. He remembered Tom saying that he'd go after Ginny, and him. And everyone else involved. He remembered how he felt something bad was coming. He remembered that that afternoon he was meeting someone, and that they would be entrusted with his life story so far.
He got up, collected what he needed, and started to walk out to where they would meet.
He winced as the scars on his back sent a sharp pain through him, and how his father cursed him so that if he ever tried to remove them, that they'd get worse, and that they'd only disappear when Lucius died.
He shut the door behind him, and walked out of the Slytherin Common Room.
"There you go, that's pretty much it," Draco said, as they separated.
"I, I didn't know how bad it was. You can't let him do this to you Draco, your soul, it's what makes you who you are, it makes you what you are!" the figure pleaded.
"I don't have a choice. Lucius can't be stopped that easy, and the Dark Lord I have no chance against," Draco sighed.
"I know it makes me who I am. I'm Draco Malfoy, but I don't need a soul to tell me that" Draco said as he got up.
"You're going? Is that it? You show me all that and you just leave? Does Gwen know any of this? Have you told her?" the figure asked.
"I couldn't do that to her, it'd be too much. I don't want her to have to choose between me and her father. I care about her too much to do that, you don't hurt your loved ones, you'd be a monster if you did," Draco replied.
He Summoned his wand to his hand, got up, and started to walk away, his black robes blowing sadly in the wind.
"Thanks for being there, I know I can trust you with this."
The remains of what made the potion turned to dust, shocking the figure momentarily.
Draco put his hands in his pocket, his pale face set gravely, showing no emotion. He walked with an air of grace, with a certain aristocracy, but with a sadness that was unfathomable. His hair blew in the cold wind, and he walked past the burning bush, his skin getting warm, but his body feeling only a dark icy cold, a hollowness that no one could ever understand.
The figure watched him turn the corner, and they lowered their hood, watching the dust on the ground blow away in the wind. She brushed a strand of red hair away from her cheek, and stood up, a tear flowing down her face.
Ginny Weasley slowly walked along an outside corridor, feeling sorry for Draco, she knew that she didn't understand how he felt, she wished she could do something for him, but she knew that it was next to impossible to save him. In a way, he was already lost. She opened a door that led into the castle, and made her way to the Great Hall.
Draco was sitting near the lake, the breeze flowing through his hair. He looked out across the dark water, watching ripples flow against the bank, then he just stared at the centre of the lake, a dark sinister area, motionless compared to the rest of the lake.
The words that Ginny had said to him went through his head.
"You can't let him do this to you Draco, your soul, it's what makes you who you are, it makes you what you are!"
He knew who he was; he was Draco Malfoy, son of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. He knew what he was more than that. He was cursed, he was hated, he was alone, and he was to have his soul taken on his eighteenth birthday.
He was doomed.