AN: Something I came up with just now, at 12:30 am. Standard disclaimers apply.

Draco Malfoy was wandering the vast corridors of his house. He was on summer holiday, though he'd rather be back at school, starting his third year. Weird people had been showing up at the Manor as of late, and he didn't want to be anywhere near them. His mother came out of one room, looking angry about something.

"Mum, what's wrong?" He asked.

She glared at him at first, but then realized who was speaking to her. She softened and replied "Nothing, sweetheart, just some of your father's business."

Draco watched as she went back to fuming and continued down the halls. He knew better than to interfere with his father's plans, however, and so he kept on past the room his mother had exited, aimlessly roaming.

Later that day, another stranger came to the Manor. Draco had opened the door, and when the man saw him he smirked in a strange way.

"Have you been aiding in your fathers endeavors, young Malfoy? Surely I didn't miss all the fun." With that, he pushed past the blond boy and strode purposefully towards the eastern wing. His curiosity getting the better of him, Draco followed at a distance.

The man entered through a door that had a few flashes of light coming through the crack in the bottom. So the young Malfoy did the same.

The second he was through the door, the world was filled with horrible noise. Yells and cries for mercy were intermingled with cruel laughter and curses being shouted. There was a man chained to a wall on the opposite end of the room, bleeding profusely and constantly begging for compassion as spell after spell hit him, making him cry in agony.

Draco was fixated in a shadow, a horrified expression on his face. He couldn't escape, as one of the adults now leaned against the door. He tried to turn away, but couldn't ignore the pleas of the prisoner, and his eyes kept flicking back to see how his condition had deteriorated.

A few minutes later, most of the noise stopped, and one of Lucius's guests stepped forward towards the bleeding wizard.

"What are you?" He asked, giving him a hard slap.

"M-mudblood..." Was all the poor man could get out. Grinning sadistically, the wizard in front of him pulled a knife from his boot. Draco didn't want to watch, but his eyes seemed glued to the spot.

The Death Eater plunged the blade into the prisoner's abdomen, then yanked it upwards, still smiling as the man screamed and blood poured onto the floor. The rest of the adults in the room gave a cheer as the man sobbed lightly then fell silent.

The young boy saw his opportunity and bolted from the room, dashing into one of the bathrooms nearby. He retched into the toilet, trying to focus on something other than the puddle of blood that kept swimming in front of his eyes. Stomping up to his bedroom, he ignored his father calling his name. Rolling onto his mattress, Draco stared at the high canopy of his four-poster. Lucius entered moments later, speaking softly.

"Draco? How much did you see?" He questioned, walking over and standing beside his sons bed.

Draco laid on his side, his back to his father. "Enough to know that I can never sleep peacefully again." He said, barely above a whisper. Lucius sighed.

"Draco, it is our duty to make the mudbloods pay. They're lower than dirt, they don't deserve to walk the earth. When the Dark Lord rises once more, all will see the truth in this. I was hoping to introduce you to our lifestyle more subtly, but what's done is done." With that, he left his son to his thoughts.

The blond boy sat up and walked to his window, looking over the beautiful gardens. Thoughts of a certain "mudblood" passed through his mind, and he became sick again thinking that what he'd just witnessed might befall her. He stepped out onto the balcony, the warm breeze wonderful on his face. Breathing deeply, Draco leaned against the railing and lost himself in thoughts of her.

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Draco bolted upright in his bed. Glancing quickly around, he remembered. He was in seventh year now, and his father was in Azkaban. Looking down beside him, he sighed contentedly when he saw Hermione's sleeping form breathing in and out peacefully. He laid back down, kissing her cheek as he did so, then drifted back into a more welcome, dreamless slumber.

AN: Guys, please leave a review. I really don't get a lot, and they're what inspires me to write. Cause who wants to write when nobody likes your work? So anyways, thanks for reading and leave a review!
~Juliet