On a warm summers morning Draco Malfoy was pacing his room mulling over the
thoughts that usually filled his head:
The annoying Potter, an abusive father, hating Potter, being second smartest in the year after a mudblood, and down right killing Potter.
Draco clenched his fists and stood still. He was always beneath someone, always. It just wasn't his nature to be second.
Well ok, below his father, that was tolerable. It was how he'd grown up. His father had had more experience being evil, being controlling, being alive - perhaps.
Against his peers at school, well that was another story. Everyone loved "them" - the little group of Gryffindor. Annoyingly brilliant Granger, obsessively funny sidekick Weasley and the famous scarhead Potter.
Anger boiled up inside Draco. He took a calming breath and decided to go for a fly on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One outside. Like that was supposed to calm him down - HA.
Collecting his broom from the corner of his room kept the insulting memories of his archenemy coming. Even though Potter had no family he still got a better broom, he still always caught that bloody golden ball, he had fame flooding him from all sides.
Draco walked downstairs for the back door. He found he almost swung his broomstick at a few extremely valuable objects littering the Manor as he past. The only thing that stopped him was the resulted "punishment" he would of got off his father.
Being in the air was a refreshing change from his enclosed space of his room. There was nothing that could touch him while he was on his broomstick, a sanctuary for the mind and body - exactly what he needed.
The hour long flight did have a positive effect. When Draco landed and walked back into Malfoy Manor he didn't even kick the house elf that got in his way, he just let it run off covering its head with its arms.
'Draco,' his father called from his office. 'Get in here now. Your mother and I need to speak with you.'
Draco trudged through the hall and entered the room that was his father's office. He sat down in a leather upholstered chair directly across for his father and stared at him. His mother was sitting on the end of the large wooden deck but wasn't paying attention to either male.
'What is it father?' Draco drawled. 'I was just about to go for a fly.'
This was of course a lie, but Malfoy family meetings were always like some sick torture for all who was there.
'You've been flying that bloody broom for the last hour. You weren't just about to go for a fly,' Lucius retorted.
'I came back inside to get a drink, father,' Draco rolled his eyes as if it was clearly obvious.
'Well it'll have to wait for a moment. Your mother and I have some business to attend to in France and we wont be back until after your due to start school again.'
'So what's this got to do with me?' asked Draco getting impatient.
'Your mother hear doesn't want you staying at home by yourself for the last two weeks of holidays. You can decide whether you want to go to either Crabbe or Goyle's house,' Lucius crossed his arms and watched his sons face turn red.
'I'm not going to someone's house and especially not Crabbe or Goyle's. I've stayed at home by myself loads of times, what's so different now?'
'Draco,' his mother decided to join in the conversation. 'You've never stayed at home by yourself for longer than a week. Who knows what you'd do to the Manor, we'll come home and find it in ruins.'
'Mother I'm fifteen. I'm not a little boy anymore I wont destroy anything. Besides why would I want to go to Crabbe or Goyle's house? I see too much of them as it is at Hogwarts.' Draco stood up and waited for his parents' response. There was no way he was staying at one of his "friends" houses - they were both so stupid.
'Very well,' said his father. 'A house elf can take you to Kings Cross Station on September first. And make sure you don't do anything foolish while we're gone.'
Draco turned and left the office. This was something he could look forward to. Parent free for two whole weeks.
The next day they were gone. They said a pitiful 'Goodbye' through the closed door of his bedroom, while he was still asleep that morning.
When Draco slumped downstairs for some breakfast he didn't, at first, remember why today was different, and then it hit him. He smiled and took a bight of toast that a house elf had placed in front of him and leaned back in the chair.
After a few days of wondering the Manor, looking through some of his fathers things that weren't protected by spells, and teaching himself some new moves on the broom, Draco decided to organise a party with his friends.
He sat down and started thinking of every thing he had to do. Get the house elves to arrange some food, get the house elves to write invitations to his friends, get the house elves to find some entertainment, and get the house elves to make everything breakable in the Manor, unbreakable. Draco rested his forehead on one of his hands. This was turning out to be harder than he first expected. Just thinking about ordering the house elves to arrange everything felt like hard work. He again thought about the idea of having a party, and changed his mind. In a little over a week there would be no escape from all his friends in Slytherin, so why bother?
The hours of that day slowly dragged out and the more Draco thought about cancelling the party (that hadn't even come into any existence) the more he realised he wasn't even in the mood for a social get together.
Being alone in the Manor turned out to be more depressing than Draco ever thought possible. Even the house elves avoided him, as his temper cause him to throw them over the upstairs banister for being too happy - as if anyone could be in the Malfoy residents.
Sleeping until late became common over the last few days of the summer holiday for Draco. And this carried on to September the first.
'Young mister Malfoy,' a house elf squeaked while tapping on the closed door of his bedroom. 'You have to get up.'
'Go away,' groaned Draco through his pillow.
'But if young mister Malfoy stays in bed he'll miss his train.'
Draco lied there wondering what the hell the annoying elf was talking about missing a train for. He strained to think what it would be about, then he remembered.
'School,' Draco said sitting straight up and fumbling for his clock. The hands ticked over 10:00am.
It was a mad panic. Draco hadn't even bothered packing his trunk the night before. Books, quills, parchment and clothes were shoved in along with a few other things that he would need for school. There wasn't even time for any breakfast but Draco made sure that his hair was perfect before getting a house elf to take him to Kings Cross.
Getting there only took a few seconds as Draco ordered it to use its magic for them to Apparate in a special form that young wizards and witches were allowed to do.
The station was rather crowded, which made Draco even more furious. The though crossed his mind at why he was so worried about missing the train, but if it happened and his father found out Draco would be labelled incompetent to look after himself.
Coming up to the barrier of Platform nine and three quarters Draco peered down at his watch, he should just make it. Not looking where he was going he ran head long into someone and knocked her over as well as himself and his trunk.
Something made Draco want to lie there and not get up but he had to see what damage he inflicted to the muggle and help her out. (I know rather unMalfoyish, huh?)
He tilted his head to see where she was and he crawled over to her. She seemed to be all right apart from the fact that she was holding her ribs and had grazed knuckles.
'Are you ok?' asked Draco not sounding very worried but that was purely because he had looked up at her face and saw the she was beautiful.
The girl was about the same age as Draco, maybe a bit younger, with long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes. For some reason she looked familiar but from who knows where. He shook his head. He knew that thinking a muggle was pretty totally went against the Malfoy code of conduct, so he focused on the situation.
'You should watch where you're going,' she replied, grimacing a bit at her sore ribs.
'I was running late to for my tr -' Draco stopped when he looked past the girls head at the platform. Due to the heat of the moment both teens hadn't noticed a bright orange mist encircle them, blocking out everyone else around them. No one on the outside seemed to even care a strange substance was situated in the middle of a muggle train station.
Draco's first thought was that his potion bottles had cracked and the elements had mixed together, then he remembered they were charmed so their couldn't break. The girl noticed this mist too.
'What is this stuff we're in?' she asked standing up.
Draco stood up next to her, still looking at it himself. 'I don't know.'
The two then noticed a person on the outside. Because of the mist his outline was all blurry but his movements were clear. He tipped a phial something into the orange substance.
Within seconds the orange turned into a blood red colour and started to swirl towards the two enclosed. There was no escape for them as the now blood red mist covered their faces the passed out due to the fumes.
*
Draco sat up. His head was pounding, as if someone had introduced it to the handle of a broomstick. He went to rub it but found his hands did not want to reach his head - they had been tied behind his back.
Focusing on the dark climate Draco saw he was in a small area, and moving. There were some other things in this small area with him. His trunk, someone's back pack and another person - the girl from the train station. She was lying face down on the floor of what Draco assumed as a muggle transport vehicle.
He had just finished that part of the muggle ways of living in one of his elective subjects, Muggle studies. It was also dark because there were no windows to let light through.
In fact the two teens were inside a van, and it was dark because the mist had knocked them out for a few hours, meaning that night had crept up. There was only one other person in the van with them, the driver, not paying any attention to those in the back.
Shuffling over on his knees, Draco sat down next to the girl. Every time they went over a bump her head would smack against the floor and give off a small thump. Draco figured that's how he got his own headache.
'Hey, wake up,' he half whispered, not wanting the kidnapper to hear him. Of course he couldn't, as the noise of the van was loud enough to cover the boys voice.
'Oy, open your bloody eyes,' he was getting impatient and was sort of a bit worried that she could contract brain damage.
He heard a groan and she lifted her head. 'Where are we?' she asked and groaned again at the feeling of a sore head.
'I dunno,' replied Draco. 'Can you sit up?' She struggled a bit but eventually she was upright and leaning against the inside of the van. Her brain raced remembering all the events that had led up to that moment?
'What was that orange mist? And what did that guy do to it to turn it red?' she asked Draco as he sat down across from her.
'Well its obvious that who ever put us in that mist was a wizard, and I bet it was the same person who turned it red,' he turned to look at where the driver was located. He still didn't know his passenger's were awake, or if he did, was just ignoring them.
When Draco turned back to look at the girl, her face was stunned. 'Did you say "wizard"?'
'Yeah, a magical person,' he decided that there was no point hiding the fact. She had viewed a magical substance and did have the right to know that her captor had magical powers. What the hell, he thought, I should tell her about me. 'I'm one too, but I don't go 'round kidnapping muggles and others of my kind with a mist.'
'What's a muggle? And did you say you were a wizard?'
Draco nodded as an answer of the second question. 'A muggle is what we call someone who doesn't have magic blood.'
He paused for a moment. 'My name is Draco Malfoy. Who are you?'
The girl was startled that she had just learnt there was an existence of magical people and it took her a minute to remember her own name. 'Oh, sorry, I'm Jemma Russell.'
They didn't talk after that. It wasn't really the best place for a nice friendly chat and "get to know to know" conversation.
After what seemed like another three hours driving, they stopped and the guy who brought them there got out. The two hear him walk across a gravel driveway and around to the back door. He opened it and his dark silhouette stood before them with his wand out.
'Come with me you two, and don't try anything . . . or you wont live to see a new sun,' he growled. Jemma trembled at his voice, Draco didn't speak or reveal any outside reaction at all, inside he knew nothing good would come out of doing anything stupid yet he had a strong urge to curse the guy - not that he could.
The man with the wand led them into a two story, wooden house, situated in what seemed to be a forest. The light of the moon was very dim, but enough to show them a path to follow and trees enclosing the area. In the wooden house it was pitch black except for a small light in a room to their right. Somebody in the house must of heard them come in. There were footsteps and the teens were confronted with another person, a lot taller than the one who drove the van.
'Ah good, you got them,' said the one in front of them over their heads.
'Mmm, it was a piece of cake. No one saw a thing,' the one behind them replied.
'You go get their stuff, I'll take them upstairs,' said the first.
The smaller man must have nodded as a response because Draco and Jemma heard him walk back through the door. The man in front grabbed their collars and literally dragged them upstairs. Jemma must have been too scared to move because she allowed it to happen. Draco on the other hand decided to act. He started squirming and kicking every part of the tall guy his feet made contact with.
It didn't do much. The man just rammed Draco into the wall on the stairs, to show it was annoying, and continued walking.
With their hands untied they were shoved into a dusty, dimly lit room where two beds stood. A bathroom was also behind a door to the left. The window at the back of the room had been boarded up yet allowed small slivers of moonlight to filter through.
A few minutes later the driver of the van put their belongings in the room with them. Draco searched his trunk for his wand immediately but it had been taken out along with everything else that had any potential in saving him from this horrid place, apart from one item that he down right refused to use as it had been given to him by his father.
His stomach grumbled and he remembered he hadn't eaten all day, not having time for breakfast in case he missed his train. Well it obviously appeared he did. He sat on one of the beds and thought longingly of the feast he would be consumed in at the moment if he were at Hogwarts.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling coming from the other side of the room. Jemma had picked up her backpack and pulled out a muggle packed of chips. She opened it and started eating a few. Draco heard his stomach rumble. Jemma looked up at him and smiled softly, then offered the chips in his direction. He got up and sat next to her, both eating in silence.
As the night prolonged Draco learnt of Jemma's family. She had two older brothers and lived with her mother. Her dad died two years before and apparently they had been very close.
It calmed Jemma down when Draco talked of quidditch and other things he was used to. He didn't mind though, it took his mind off the situation they were in. Jemma fell asleep on Draco's shoulder and he didn't even notice. After a while his back began to hurt and let her gently fall into the bed. He walked over to the other one and lied down. New thoughts filled his head:
Why was that tall guy expecting us? I mean I've never met Jemma before in my life, have I? Perhaps this has got something to do with my father, who could tell how his sick mind works.
Draco drifted off to sleep.
The two teens got to know each other during the next few days of imprisonment, and Draco couldn't help but admit to himself that he was becoming quite attracted to her. They tried a few escape attempts like busting through the boarded up window, but couldn't move the wood an inch. Draco figured it was held their by magic.
Food was put in their room a few times a day which kept their stomachs satisfied, but other than that, the only people they had contact with was each other.
One night they were talking about some new things to keep their minds off their boredom. Jemma was lying on Draco's chest and he had her arm around her (his excuse was that it was could, but it was only the start of Autumn). (A/N: I'm Aussie so I don't know much about English weather. The start of Autumn for us is really hot, just like the rest of the bloody year *scowls at the boiling hot weather outside*. Sorry if I'm wrong.)
Draco sat there looking down at her while she talked but he wasn't paying any attention. He was focus on her hair and how it shimmered when a thin ray of moonlight fell across it. She looked up at him expecting an answer.
'Well?' she asked.
'Oh sorry, I wasn't paying any attention,' he confessed. Jemma smiled not minding at all.
There was an eternal moment when they both stared into each other's eyes and slowly their lips edged closer to the other. Upon closing his eyes Draco felt the warm presence of her lips on his. She raised her hand and held it against his cheek, he wrapped his other arm around her back to hold her close.
They broke apart and they both looked as embarrassed as the other. Draco hadn't given a damn that he felt this way about a muggle girl, now. His father wasn't here and it is a bit hard to block out these sorts of feelings, even if your family name is said to portray coldness and hatred.
The only thing that kept Draco sane and in control inside that mindlessly boring room was that Jemma was there with him.
One night she fell asleep early and the evil side of him surfaced - he decided to search though her bag to see if she'd been hiding anything from him.
There were muggle sort of things like train schedules and girly make up but one thing did catch his eye. A small purple covered diary lay at the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out and sat on his bed to read.
While skimming through one of the last pages something attracted his attention. Information and ideas under the heading "The Plan".
Draco read the whole thing carefully, his eyebrows permanently raised. When he finished he rushed over to his trunk, pulled out a miniature model of a house elf out and whispered in its ear.
He packed it up and fell onto his bed after also putting away Jemma's diary. Draco lied there not knowing how to feel. Happy for himself and his own plan he just whipped up, or angry at the fact that Jemma had been hiding something.
Jemma didn't notice anything different about Draco the next day. He acted the way he normally did even though his mind kept wondering whether his own plan would work.
That night something happened. Both men whom had been keeping them in there entered to room.
'It is time,' said the taller one.
'Come with us,' said the other.
Draco and Jemma complied. It was no use facing these two while wandless, thought Draco.
Down the stairs and around a corner they were led until they were shown into an underground room. Torch's lined the walls but only a few of them were lit. The room was completely empty, or so Draco thought.
Out of the shadows four ebony cloaked men drifted into view, their faces completely covered. The first two men that escorted them there turned and left.
Jemma trembled beside Draco and found his hand. He clenched back but not as hard. He had a feeling he knew what was under the cloaks.
The four hooded men stared at the two. One of them spoke.
'Draco Malfoy. You have been brought here at the request of your father to see whether you a worthy to become a Death Eater for the greatest dark lord of all time.'
Jemma looked up at Draco. His face showed no signs of shock of disbelief. To her it seemed as though he was expecting this.
'This will be your test . . .'
One of the hooded men grabbed Jemma and tore her away from him, turned her around and made her kneel facing Draco. She looked up at him with pure fear filling her eyes.
Another one of the hoods handed Draco the handle of a sword, which had no blade. At first glance it was clear to him what it was, Lucius had explain that this sort of weapon was extremely dangerous that's why the blade only showed itself when the witch or wizard was ready to use it. A muggle only saw it as a handle and did not have the ability to get the weapon to show its secret. It was called a Illiberal blade.
'And what I'm I supposed to do with this?' asked Draco in what sounded like a drawling voice.
The other five in the room started at this comment. Jemma had begun to tremble.
'You are to . . .' the one who gave him the handle gestured towards Jemma and ran his thumb past his throat.
'Oh so I'm to chop off her head? That's what I have to do to become a Death Eater like my father?' Draco sounded as though this sort of thing happened to him all the time and decapitating an innocent muggle girl was as common as brushing his teeth.
All four hoods nodded.
Draco held the Illiberal blade with his two hands and the blade slowly slid out of the handle. A long, silver weapon ready and waiting for Draco to do the deed.
Jemma looked at Draco with the blade and she started crying. She was beyond screaming, trying to get out of there, and hysterically balling. Tears just rolled down her cheeks knowing what would happen.
To begin with Draco rested the blade on Jemma's shoulder for better aim. He looked into her red, tear ridden eyes and showed her no expression in his own face what so ever. To be ordered to decapitate someone who he'd gotten close to was sick. The person who had thought this up had no life and certainly needed some serious medical attention, thought Draco.
He raised the sword behind his shoulder and without hesitation swung through the air and made contact with his target.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP.
Four heads, still covered in black hoods, fell to the floor. Jemma swung around just in time to see the strange sight. The four headless bodies stood alone for a prolonged number of seconds and also fell to the floor on their backs in a heap.
There was a moments pause only broken by the sound of the Illiberal blade retracting into the handle.
Jemma jumped up and swung her arms around Draco. Instead of hugging her back he stood there and pushed her off, showing her complete discuss.
'What's wrong?' she asked, then she stated rather then questioned: 'You love me.'
'How can I love you? I don't even know you,' he replied.
'Well I know you. I admired you from afar, for years,' she said innocently. Draco seemed a bit put out by this.
'I don't understand how a muggle like you "admired me from afar". I hardly every go to the muggle wor -' Draco was cut off by Jemma.
'I once heard you say to someone "Us Malfoy's have a very sick way in showing love. Our emotions are never revealed so we never know how we feel about each other.".'
Draco did indeed remember saying that but it had been a while and he couldn't remember who to. Jemma continued.
'But I didn't believe it. I knew that somewhere deep down you could love a muggle, you only needed to -'
'I COULD NEVER LOVE A MUGGLE AND ESPECIALLY NOT ONE AS SICK AS YOU,' Draco yelled back.
'But what you said to that girl . . .' tears again rolled down her cheeks. '. . . "Malfoy's have a sick way of showing love." No emotions, no visible feelings of content. I showed to you that you could care for someone like me, even if I had to result in extreme measures.'
Jemma gasped and stepped back realising she had said too much. Draco wasn't shocked at all.
'I could never love a muggle,' he repeated but much calmer.
'Don't you see? You killed four wizard men just to save me from death.'
Draco smirked. This is what he'd been longing to show her ever since they'd entered that underground room. He snapped his fingers and the four headless corpses began to move.
Jemma watched them. Fear and confusion flooded her red eyes. Draco remained fixed on Jemma. He wanted to see her facial reactions to what he already knew.
Slowly one by one the torsos of the bodies opened like doors. From out of each two house elves appeared and stood together waiting for their young masters next orders.
'What's going on?' asked Jemma in sheer surprise.
'I could have asked you the same thing, if I hadn't read your diary.'
Jemma snapped her head back to Draco. 'You read my diary?'
'Yes, and I found out all about the little plan of yours.'
The two stood silent facing each other.
'You knew?' she asked. 'Since when?'
'Since last night. I found out that it was you who got us both kidnapped from the train station, you who had me held captive against my will and you who have a twisted mind, especially when it comes to what you call "love".'
Jemma broke eye contact with Draco and looked down at his hands. She moved slowly and took the Illiberal blade out of his hands and looked at it.
'Instead of confessing to you,' continued Draco not paying any attention that Jemma now possessed the blade, what could she do with it? 'I allowed my brilliant mind to work and conceive a plan of my own.'
Staying completely silent Jemma dropped her arms to her sides and kept listening with mixed feelings.
'As you can see I called upon the family house elves and I therefore killed no one.'
'You had me on, and never said anything,' Jemma said with a calm fury. 'You let me go on acting how I did . . . for nothing?'
'I must admit it was extremely convincing. I wondered for a moment whether you did in fact write that entry into your diary, but my plan was set and I wasn't going to back out now.'
Jemma looked to the ground and smiled a weak, strange smile. 'I loved you Draco Malfoy. Nothing could have changed my feelings for you. I was prepared to die for you.' Her eyes again fell on the blond teen she was so sure she loved, her small grin still in place. 'I just wanted you to know that.'
Draco just stared at the girls smile as a trickle of thick red blood left its corner. He looked down at her hands and they both clasped the handle of the Illiberal blade, resting against her stomach. He had not heard its distinct sound of appearing and impaling the girl.
She fell to her knees, eyes fixed on Draco, then onto her side. Her eyes slowly closed and she was no more. As she lied there, Draco clearly saw the other end of the blade covered in blood and sticking out of her back. Jemma was a witch.
Something, who knows what, attracted the attention of the two original men. They entered the basement and their eyes immediately fell on Jemma.
'Jemma,' one of them gasped.
'That wasn't supposed to happen,' said the other.
The two men tried their hardest to revive her, but it was hopeless. When the realisation finally hit, the taller one turned on the silent Draco.
'THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!' he stormed advancing on the still shocked blond. 'She loved you, you were only thing she ever talked about.'
Draco's brain fast forward and he suddenly remembered something Jemma had said when they first met. "I have two older brothers and I live with my mother . . ."
'Two older brothers . . .' Draco repeated out loud.
'That's right,' said the shorter man as he removed his hood. He revealed exact replicas of Jemma's sapphire eyes and the dark hair that Draco had once saw moonlight filter across, yet shorter. 'We are her older brother's and we loved her very much. We would have . . . or did do anything for her, just so she could be happy.'
The taller man spoke, his hood removed too. 'We knew that this would turn out bad, but she insisted that you would show your "true" feelings and protect her from . . .' the man then noticed the eight house elf standing next to the torso suits. 'Where are the guys we payed?'
'They are ok sir,' a lone elf spoke up. 'They are roamings the woods not knowing who or wheres they are.'
'That wasn't part of the plan.'
'No it wasn't,' Draco said in what would be a proud voice, but he couldn't bring himself to sound like that with a dead girl lying in front of him. 'I happened to learn of part of Jemma's plan, and in turn I arranged one myself.'
'How?' the shorter guy asked, then he shook his head. 'Never mind, I don't want to know how your sick mind works.'
'MY SICK MIND,' Draco didn't appreciate this remark. 'Look at what measure your own sister took just to prove that I could love a mudblood, and you say I have a sick mind?'
'Jemma wanted to prove that you Malfoy's do show your affectionate emotions, and for a moment it you did. She wanted to show you in a way that would forever be remembered in your mind.'
'Well I can assure that that part of her plan worked,' Draco spat. 'I doubt I will ever forget this.'
Feeling sick and tired of this conversation Draco walked over to one of the house elves. 'Take me home,' he ordered to it, and for the other ones to collect his things.
'Hey you're not getting away so easily,' the taller brother reached out to grab Draco, but he disappeared and the man snatched at thin air.
Draco never told anyone of that experience he had. In one way he did feel like it was his fault, in another way it made him fill ill to the stomach when he thought about how this girl had tried to show him love. Somehow he learned that Jemma's brothers were wizards themselves and the three siblings had all been muggle born.
Sleepless nights reminded Draco of things Jemma had told him of his past. She looked familiar to him as she was a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts in the year below Draco. The girl he had told about the Malfoy's sick way of showing love was a fellow Slytherin whom he turned down to the Yule ball the year before.
This event showed Draco Malfoy something about people. Judging a fellow person creates certain attitudes and feelings towards them that are usually a waste of time and in some situations, can be deadly. Whether Draco put this new view of people into action is for you to decide.
For the first four years of school that was all he did. He only saw Hermione as a muggle born mudblood who didn't deserve the amount of brains she possessed, Ron as a stupid, funny sidekick with red hair and no money, and Harry as the famous scarhead who survived an attack from the dark lord. All of these things Draco saw in these Gryffindor's never connected with their feelings and attitudes.
But then again how was a Slytherin supposed to think about a Gryffindor?
The annoying Potter, an abusive father, hating Potter, being second smartest in the year after a mudblood, and down right killing Potter.
Draco clenched his fists and stood still. He was always beneath someone, always. It just wasn't his nature to be second.
Well ok, below his father, that was tolerable. It was how he'd grown up. His father had had more experience being evil, being controlling, being alive - perhaps.
Against his peers at school, well that was another story. Everyone loved "them" - the little group of Gryffindor. Annoyingly brilliant Granger, obsessively funny sidekick Weasley and the famous scarhead Potter.
Anger boiled up inside Draco. He took a calming breath and decided to go for a fly on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One outside. Like that was supposed to calm him down - HA.
Collecting his broom from the corner of his room kept the insulting memories of his archenemy coming. Even though Potter had no family he still got a better broom, he still always caught that bloody golden ball, he had fame flooding him from all sides.
Draco walked downstairs for the back door. He found he almost swung his broomstick at a few extremely valuable objects littering the Manor as he past. The only thing that stopped him was the resulted "punishment" he would of got off his father.
Being in the air was a refreshing change from his enclosed space of his room. There was nothing that could touch him while he was on his broomstick, a sanctuary for the mind and body - exactly what he needed.
The hour long flight did have a positive effect. When Draco landed and walked back into Malfoy Manor he didn't even kick the house elf that got in his way, he just let it run off covering its head with its arms.
'Draco,' his father called from his office. 'Get in here now. Your mother and I need to speak with you.'
Draco trudged through the hall and entered the room that was his father's office. He sat down in a leather upholstered chair directly across for his father and stared at him. His mother was sitting on the end of the large wooden deck but wasn't paying attention to either male.
'What is it father?' Draco drawled. 'I was just about to go for a fly.'
This was of course a lie, but Malfoy family meetings were always like some sick torture for all who was there.
'You've been flying that bloody broom for the last hour. You weren't just about to go for a fly,' Lucius retorted.
'I came back inside to get a drink, father,' Draco rolled his eyes as if it was clearly obvious.
'Well it'll have to wait for a moment. Your mother and I have some business to attend to in France and we wont be back until after your due to start school again.'
'So what's this got to do with me?' asked Draco getting impatient.
'Your mother hear doesn't want you staying at home by yourself for the last two weeks of holidays. You can decide whether you want to go to either Crabbe or Goyle's house,' Lucius crossed his arms and watched his sons face turn red.
'I'm not going to someone's house and especially not Crabbe or Goyle's. I've stayed at home by myself loads of times, what's so different now?'
'Draco,' his mother decided to join in the conversation. 'You've never stayed at home by yourself for longer than a week. Who knows what you'd do to the Manor, we'll come home and find it in ruins.'
'Mother I'm fifteen. I'm not a little boy anymore I wont destroy anything. Besides why would I want to go to Crabbe or Goyle's house? I see too much of them as it is at Hogwarts.' Draco stood up and waited for his parents' response. There was no way he was staying at one of his "friends" houses - they were both so stupid.
'Very well,' said his father. 'A house elf can take you to Kings Cross Station on September first. And make sure you don't do anything foolish while we're gone.'
Draco turned and left the office. This was something he could look forward to. Parent free for two whole weeks.
The next day they were gone. They said a pitiful 'Goodbye' through the closed door of his bedroom, while he was still asleep that morning.
When Draco slumped downstairs for some breakfast he didn't, at first, remember why today was different, and then it hit him. He smiled and took a bight of toast that a house elf had placed in front of him and leaned back in the chair.
After a few days of wondering the Manor, looking through some of his fathers things that weren't protected by spells, and teaching himself some new moves on the broom, Draco decided to organise a party with his friends.
He sat down and started thinking of every thing he had to do. Get the house elves to arrange some food, get the house elves to write invitations to his friends, get the house elves to find some entertainment, and get the house elves to make everything breakable in the Manor, unbreakable. Draco rested his forehead on one of his hands. This was turning out to be harder than he first expected. Just thinking about ordering the house elves to arrange everything felt like hard work. He again thought about the idea of having a party, and changed his mind. In a little over a week there would be no escape from all his friends in Slytherin, so why bother?
The hours of that day slowly dragged out and the more Draco thought about cancelling the party (that hadn't even come into any existence) the more he realised he wasn't even in the mood for a social get together.
Being alone in the Manor turned out to be more depressing than Draco ever thought possible. Even the house elves avoided him, as his temper cause him to throw them over the upstairs banister for being too happy - as if anyone could be in the Malfoy residents.
Sleeping until late became common over the last few days of the summer holiday for Draco. And this carried on to September the first.
'Young mister Malfoy,' a house elf squeaked while tapping on the closed door of his bedroom. 'You have to get up.'
'Go away,' groaned Draco through his pillow.
'But if young mister Malfoy stays in bed he'll miss his train.'
Draco lied there wondering what the hell the annoying elf was talking about missing a train for. He strained to think what it would be about, then he remembered.
'School,' Draco said sitting straight up and fumbling for his clock. The hands ticked over 10:00am.
It was a mad panic. Draco hadn't even bothered packing his trunk the night before. Books, quills, parchment and clothes were shoved in along with a few other things that he would need for school. There wasn't even time for any breakfast but Draco made sure that his hair was perfect before getting a house elf to take him to Kings Cross.
Getting there only took a few seconds as Draco ordered it to use its magic for them to Apparate in a special form that young wizards and witches were allowed to do.
The station was rather crowded, which made Draco even more furious. The though crossed his mind at why he was so worried about missing the train, but if it happened and his father found out Draco would be labelled incompetent to look after himself.
Coming up to the barrier of Platform nine and three quarters Draco peered down at his watch, he should just make it. Not looking where he was going he ran head long into someone and knocked her over as well as himself and his trunk.
Something made Draco want to lie there and not get up but he had to see what damage he inflicted to the muggle and help her out. (I know rather unMalfoyish, huh?)
He tilted his head to see where she was and he crawled over to her. She seemed to be all right apart from the fact that she was holding her ribs and had grazed knuckles.
'Are you ok?' asked Draco not sounding very worried but that was purely because he had looked up at her face and saw the she was beautiful.
The girl was about the same age as Draco, maybe a bit younger, with long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes. For some reason she looked familiar but from who knows where. He shook his head. He knew that thinking a muggle was pretty totally went against the Malfoy code of conduct, so he focused on the situation.
'You should watch where you're going,' she replied, grimacing a bit at her sore ribs.
'I was running late to for my tr -' Draco stopped when he looked past the girls head at the platform. Due to the heat of the moment both teens hadn't noticed a bright orange mist encircle them, blocking out everyone else around them. No one on the outside seemed to even care a strange substance was situated in the middle of a muggle train station.
Draco's first thought was that his potion bottles had cracked and the elements had mixed together, then he remembered they were charmed so their couldn't break. The girl noticed this mist too.
'What is this stuff we're in?' she asked standing up.
Draco stood up next to her, still looking at it himself. 'I don't know.'
The two then noticed a person on the outside. Because of the mist his outline was all blurry but his movements were clear. He tipped a phial something into the orange substance.
Within seconds the orange turned into a blood red colour and started to swirl towards the two enclosed. There was no escape for them as the now blood red mist covered their faces the passed out due to the fumes.
*
Draco sat up. His head was pounding, as if someone had introduced it to the handle of a broomstick. He went to rub it but found his hands did not want to reach his head - they had been tied behind his back.
Focusing on the dark climate Draco saw he was in a small area, and moving. There were some other things in this small area with him. His trunk, someone's back pack and another person - the girl from the train station. She was lying face down on the floor of what Draco assumed as a muggle transport vehicle.
He had just finished that part of the muggle ways of living in one of his elective subjects, Muggle studies. It was also dark because there were no windows to let light through.
In fact the two teens were inside a van, and it was dark because the mist had knocked them out for a few hours, meaning that night had crept up. There was only one other person in the van with them, the driver, not paying any attention to those in the back.
Shuffling over on his knees, Draco sat down next to the girl. Every time they went over a bump her head would smack against the floor and give off a small thump. Draco figured that's how he got his own headache.
'Hey, wake up,' he half whispered, not wanting the kidnapper to hear him. Of course he couldn't, as the noise of the van was loud enough to cover the boys voice.
'Oy, open your bloody eyes,' he was getting impatient and was sort of a bit worried that she could contract brain damage.
He heard a groan and she lifted her head. 'Where are we?' she asked and groaned again at the feeling of a sore head.
'I dunno,' replied Draco. 'Can you sit up?' She struggled a bit but eventually she was upright and leaning against the inside of the van. Her brain raced remembering all the events that had led up to that moment?
'What was that orange mist? And what did that guy do to it to turn it red?' she asked Draco as he sat down across from her.
'Well its obvious that who ever put us in that mist was a wizard, and I bet it was the same person who turned it red,' he turned to look at where the driver was located. He still didn't know his passenger's were awake, or if he did, was just ignoring them.
When Draco turned back to look at the girl, her face was stunned. 'Did you say "wizard"?'
'Yeah, a magical person,' he decided that there was no point hiding the fact. She had viewed a magical substance and did have the right to know that her captor had magical powers. What the hell, he thought, I should tell her about me. 'I'm one too, but I don't go 'round kidnapping muggles and others of my kind with a mist.'
'What's a muggle? And did you say you were a wizard?'
Draco nodded as an answer of the second question. 'A muggle is what we call someone who doesn't have magic blood.'
He paused for a moment. 'My name is Draco Malfoy. Who are you?'
The girl was startled that she had just learnt there was an existence of magical people and it took her a minute to remember her own name. 'Oh, sorry, I'm Jemma Russell.'
They didn't talk after that. It wasn't really the best place for a nice friendly chat and "get to know to know" conversation.
After what seemed like another three hours driving, they stopped and the guy who brought them there got out. The two hear him walk across a gravel driveway and around to the back door. He opened it and his dark silhouette stood before them with his wand out.
'Come with me you two, and don't try anything . . . or you wont live to see a new sun,' he growled. Jemma trembled at his voice, Draco didn't speak or reveal any outside reaction at all, inside he knew nothing good would come out of doing anything stupid yet he had a strong urge to curse the guy - not that he could.
The man with the wand led them into a two story, wooden house, situated in what seemed to be a forest. The light of the moon was very dim, but enough to show them a path to follow and trees enclosing the area. In the wooden house it was pitch black except for a small light in a room to their right. Somebody in the house must of heard them come in. There were footsteps and the teens were confronted with another person, a lot taller than the one who drove the van.
'Ah good, you got them,' said the one in front of them over their heads.
'Mmm, it was a piece of cake. No one saw a thing,' the one behind them replied.
'You go get their stuff, I'll take them upstairs,' said the first.
The smaller man must have nodded as a response because Draco and Jemma heard him walk back through the door. The man in front grabbed their collars and literally dragged them upstairs. Jemma must have been too scared to move because she allowed it to happen. Draco on the other hand decided to act. He started squirming and kicking every part of the tall guy his feet made contact with.
It didn't do much. The man just rammed Draco into the wall on the stairs, to show it was annoying, and continued walking.
With their hands untied they were shoved into a dusty, dimly lit room where two beds stood. A bathroom was also behind a door to the left. The window at the back of the room had been boarded up yet allowed small slivers of moonlight to filter through.
A few minutes later the driver of the van put their belongings in the room with them. Draco searched his trunk for his wand immediately but it had been taken out along with everything else that had any potential in saving him from this horrid place, apart from one item that he down right refused to use as it had been given to him by his father.
His stomach grumbled and he remembered he hadn't eaten all day, not having time for breakfast in case he missed his train. Well it obviously appeared he did. He sat on one of the beds and thought longingly of the feast he would be consumed in at the moment if he were at Hogwarts.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling coming from the other side of the room. Jemma had picked up her backpack and pulled out a muggle packed of chips. She opened it and started eating a few. Draco heard his stomach rumble. Jemma looked up at him and smiled softly, then offered the chips in his direction. He got up and sat next to her, both eating in silence.
As the night prolonged Draco learnt of Jemma's family. She had two older brothers and lived with her mother. Her dad died two years before and apparently they had been very close.
It calmed Jemma down when Draco talked of quidditch and other things he was used to. He didn't mind though, it took his mind off the situation they were in. Jemma fell asleep on Draco's shoulder and he didn't even notice. After a while his back began to hurt and let her gently fall into the bed. He walked over to the other one and lied down. New thoughts filled his head:
Why was that tall guy expecting us? I mean I've never met Jemma before in my life, have I? Perhaps this has got something to do with my father, who could tell how his sick mind works.
Draco drifted off to sleep.
The two teens got to know each other during the next few days of imprisonment, and Draco couldn't help but admit to himself that he was becoming quite attracted to her. They tried a few escape attempts like busting through the boarded up window, but couldn't move the wood an inch. Draco figured it was held their by magic.
Food was put in their room a few times a day which kept their stomachs satisfied, but other than that, the only people they had contact with was each other.
One night they were talking about some new things to keep their minds off their boredom. Jemma was lying on Draco's chest and he had her arm around her (his excuse was that it was could, but it was only the start of Autumn). (A/N: I'm Aussie so I don't know much about English weather. The start of Autumn for us is really hot, just like the rest of the bloody year *scowls at the boiling hot weather outside*. Sorry if I'm wrong.)
Draco sat there looking down at her while she talked but he wasn't paying any attention. He was focus on her hair and how it shimmered when a thin ray of moonlight fell across it. She looked up at him expecting an answer.
'Well?' she asked.
'Oh sorry, I wasn't paying any attention,' he confessed. Jemma smiled not minding at all.
There was an eternal moment when they both stared into each other's eyes and slowly their lips edged closer to the other. Upon closing his eyes Draco felt the warm presence of her lips on his. She raised her hand and held it against his cheek, he wrapped his other arm around her back to hold her close.
They broke apart and they both looked as embarrassed as the other. Draco hadn't given a damn that he felt this way about a muggle girl, now. His father wasn't here and it is a bit hard to block out these sorts of feelings, even if your family name is said to portray coldness and hatred.
The only thing that kept Draco sane and in control inside that mindlessly boring room was that Jemma was there with him.
One night she fell asleep early and the evil side of him surfaced - he decided to search though her bag to see if she'd been hiding anything from him.
There were muggle sort of things like train schedules and girly make up but one thing did catch his eye. A small purple covered diary lay at the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out and sat on his bed to read.
While skimming through one of the last pages something attracted his attention. Information and ideas under the heading "The Plan".
Draco read the whole thing carefully, his eyebrows permanently raised. When he finished he rushed over to his trunk, pulled out a miniature model of a house elf out and whispered in its ear.
He packed it up and fell onto his bed after also putting away Jemma's diary. Draco lied there not knowing how to feel. Happy for himself and his own plan he just whipped up, or angry at the fact that Jemma had been hiding something.
Jemma didn't notice anything different about Draco the next day. He acted the way he normally did even though his mind kept wondering whether his own plan would work.
That night something happened. Both men whom had been keeping them in there entered to room.
'It is time,' said the taller one.
'Come with us,' said the other.
Draco and Jemma complied. It was no use facing these two while wandless, thought Draco.
Down the stairs and around a corner they were led until they were shown into an underground room. Torch's lined the walls but only a few of them were lit. The room was completely empty, or so Draco thought.
Out of the shadows four ebony cloaked men drifted into view, their faces completely covered. The first two men that escorted them there turned and left.
Jemma trembled beside Draco and found his hand. He clenched back but not as hard. He had a feeling he knew what was under the cloaks.
The four hooded men stared at the two. One of them spoke.
'Draco Malfoy. You have been brought here at the request of your father to see whether you a worthy to become a Death Eater for the greatest dark lord of all time.'
Jemma looked up at Draco. His face showed no signs of shock of disbelief. To her it seemed as though he was expecting this.
'This will be your test . . .'
One of the hooded men grabbed Jemma and tore her away from him, turned her around and made her kneel facing Draco. She looked up at him with pure fear filling her eyes.
Another one of the hoods handed Draco the handle of a sword, which had no blade. At first glance it was clear to him what it was, Lucius had explain that this sort of weapon was extremely dangerous that's why the blade only showed itself when the witch or wizard was ready to use it. A muggle only saw it as a handle and did not have the ability to get the weapon to show its secret. It was called a Illiberal blade.
'And what I'm I supposed to do with this?' asked Draco in what sounded like a drawling voice.
The other five in the room started at this comment. Jemma had begun to tremble.
'You are to . . .' the one who gave him the handle gestured towards Jemma and ran his thumb past his throat.
'Oh so I'm to chop off her head? That's what I have to do to become a Death Eater like my father?' Draco sounded as though this sort of thing happened to him all the time and decapitating an innocent muggle girl was as common as brushing his teeth.
All four hoods nodded.
Draco held the Illiberal blade with his two hands and the blade slowly slid out of the handle. A long, silver weapon ready and waiting for Draco to do the deed.
Jemma looked at Draco with the blade and she started crying. She was beyond screaming, trying to get out of there, and hysterically balling. Tears just rolled down her cheeks knowing what would happen.
To begin with Draco rested the blade on Jemma's shoulder for better aim. He looked into her red, tear ridden eyes and showed her no expression in his own face what so ever. To be ordered to decapitate someone who he'd gotten close to was sick. The person who had thought this up had no life and certainly needed some serious medical attention, thought Draco.
He raised the sword behind his shoulder and without hesitation swung through the air and made contact with his target.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP.
Four heads, still covered in black hoods, fell to the floor. Jemma swung around just in time to see the strange sight. The four headless bodies stood alone for a prolonged number of seconds and also fell to the floor on their backs in a heap.
There was a moments pause only broken by the sound of the Illiberal blade retracting into the handle.
Jemma jumped up and swung her arms around Draco. Instead of hugging her back he stood there and pushed her off, showing her complete discuss.
'What's wrong?' she asked, then she stated rather then questioned: 'You love me.'
'How can I love you? I don't even know you,' he replied.
'Well I know you. I admired you from afar, for years,' she said innocently. Draco seemed a bit put out by this.
'I don't understand how a muggle like you "admired me from afar". I hardly every go to the muggle wor -' Draco was cut off by Jemma.
'I once heard you say to someone "Us Malfoy's have a very sick way in showing love. Our emotions are never revealed so we never know how we feel about each other.".'
Draco did indeed remember saying that but it had been a while and he couldn't remember who to. Jemma continued.
'But I didn't believe it. I knew that somewhere deep down you could love a muggle, you only needed to -'
'I COULD NEVER LOVE A MUGGLE AND ESPECIALLY NOT ONE AS SICK AS YOU,' Draco yelled back.
'But what you said to that girl . . .' tears again rolled down her cheeks. '. . . "Malfoy's have a sick way of showing love." No emotions, no visible feelings of content. I showed to you that you could care for someone like me, even if I had to result in extreme measures.'
Jemma gasped and stepped back realising she had said too much. Draco wasn't shocked at all.
'I could never love a muggle,' he repeated but much calmer.
'Don't you see? You killed four wizard men just to save me from death.'
Draco smirked. This is what he'd been longing to show her ever since they'd entered that underground room. He snapped his fingers and the four headless corpses began to move.
Jemma watched them. Fear and confusion flooded her red eyes. Draco remained fixed on Jemma. He wanted to see her facial reactions to what he already knew.
Slowly one by one the torsos of the bodies opened like doors. From out of each two house elves appeared and stood together waiting for their young masters next orders.
'What's going on?' asked Jemma in sheer surprise.
'I could have asked you the same thing, if I hadn't read your diary.'
Jemma snapped her head back to Draco. 'You read my diary?'
'Yes, and I found out all about the little plan of yours.'
The two stood silent facing each other.
'You knew?' she asked. 'Since when?'
'Since last night. I found out that it was you who got us both kidnapped from the train station, you who had me held captive against my will and you who have a twisted mind, especially when it comes to what you call "love".'
Jemma broke eye contact with Draco and looked down at his hands. She moved slowly and took the Illiberal blade out of his hands and looked at it.
'Instead of confessing to you,' continued Draco not paying any attention that Jemma now possessed the blade, what could she do with it? 'I allowed my brilliant mind to work and conceive a plan of my own.'
Staying completely silent Jemma dropped her arms to her sides and kept listening with mixed feelings.
'As you can see I called upon the family house elves and I therefore killed no one.'
'You had me on, and never said anything,' Jemma said with a calm fury. 'You let me go on acting how I did . . . for nothing?'
'I must admit it was extremely convincing. I wondered for a moment whether you did in fact write that entry into your diary, but my plan was set and I wasn't going to back out now.'
Jemma looked to the ground and smiled a weak, strange smile. 'I loved you Draco Malfoy. Nothing could have changed my feelings for you. I was prepared to die for you.' Her eyes again fell on the blond teen she was so sure she loved, her small grin still in place. 'I just wanted you to know that.'
Draco just stared at the girls smile as a trickle of thick red blood left its corner. He looked down at her hands and they both clasped the handle of the Illiberal blade, resting against her stomach. He had not heard its distinct sound of appearing and impaling the girl.
She fell to her knees, eyes fixed on Draco, then onto her side. Her eyes slowly closed and she was no more. As she lied there, Draco clearly saw the other end of the blade covered in blood and sticking out of her back. Jemma was a witch.
Something, who knows what, attracted the attention of the two original men. They entered the basement and their eyes immediately fell on Jemma.
'Jemma,' one of them gasped.
'That wasn't supposed to happen,' said the other.
The two men tried their hardest to revive her, but it was hopeless. When the realisation finally hit, the taller one turned on the silent Draco.
'THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!' he stormed advancing on the still shocked blond. 'She loved you, you were only thing she ever talked about.'
Draco's brain fast forward and he suddenly remembered something Jemma had said when they first met. "I have two older brothers and I live with my mother . . ."
'Two older brothers . . .' Draco repeated out loud.
'That's right,' said the shorter man as he removed his hood. He revealed exact replicas of Jemma's sapphire eyes and the dark hair that Draco had once saw moonlight filter across, yet shorter. 'We are her older brother's and we loved her very much. We would have . . . or did do anything for her, just so she could be happy.'
The taller man spoke, his hood removed too. 'We knew that this would turn out bad, but she insisted that you would show your "true" feelings and protect her from . . .' the man then noticed the eight house elf standing next to the torso suits. 'Where are the guys we payed?'
'They are ok sir,' a lone elf spoke up. 'They are roamings the woods not knowing who or wheres they are.'
'That wasn't part of the plan.'
'No it wasn't,' Draco said in what would be a proud voice, but he couldn't bring himself to sound like that with a dead girl lying in front of him. 'I happened to learn of part of Jemma's plan, and in turn I arranged one myself.'
'How?' the shorter guy asked, then he shook his head. 'Never mind, I don't want to know how your sick mind works.'
'MY SICK MIND,' Draco didn't appreciate this remark. 'Look at what measure your own sister took just to prove that I could love a mudblood, and you say I have a sick mind?'
'Jemma wanted to prove that you Malfoy's do show your affectionate emotions, and for a moment it you did. She wanted to show you in a way that would forever be remembered in your mind.'
'Well I can assure that that part of her plan worked,' Draco spat. 'I doubt I will ever forget this.'
Feeling sick and tired of this conversation Draco walked over to one of the house elves. 'Take me home,' he ordered to it, and for the other ones to collect his things.
'Hey you're not getting away so easily,' the taller brother reached out to grab Draco, but he disappeared and the man snatched at thin air.
Draco never told anyone of that experience he had. In one way he did feel like it was his fault, in another way it made him fill ill to the stomach when he thought about how this girl had tried to show him love. Somehow he learned that Jemma's brothers were wizards themselves and the three siblings had all been muggle born.
Sleepless nights reminded Draco of things Jemma had told him of his past. She looked familiar to him as she was a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts in the year below Draco. The girl he had told about the Malfoy's sick way of showing love was a fellow Slytherin whom he turned down to the Yule ball the year before.
This event showed Draco Malfoy something about people. Judging a fellow person creates certain attitudes and feelings towards them that are usually a waste of time and in some situations, can be deadly. Whether Draco put this new view of people into action is for you to decide.
For the first four years of school that was all he did. He only saw Hermione as a muggle born mudblood who didn't deserve the amount of brains she possessed, Ron as a stupid, funny sidekick with red hair and no money, and Harry as the famous scarhead who survived an attack from the dark lord. All of these things Draco saw in these Gryffindor's never connected with their feelings and attitudes.
But then again how was a Slytherin supposed to think about a Gryffindor?