The Seduction of Draco Malfoy
Because of the very little description of Hogwarts in the 7th book, I took a lot of liberty in my own little plot line. Enjoy. (Oh, and, I do not own any characters of the Harry Potter saga or the books themselves. Besides, of course, the OC's appearing in this fan fiction)
Abraham Parker wheezed slightly as he jogged along the blackened street. He was the type of man who had at some point, many fast food breaks ago, been pure muscle, but who had since begun to round. The street in front of him was illuminated only by the beam of his dimming flashlight, and in the eeriness of the night he was beginning to regret not calling in for backup.
His shift had just ended when Mrs. Crow, his elderly neighbor, had flagged him down to inform him of a "suspicious gang of cloak-wearing up-to-no-gooders headed down towards Rosewood Street." Although he and Mrs. Crow were little more than acquaintances, he had learned enough about her over the years to know both that she is a terrible worrier and that Rosewood Street is where her granddaughter lives. Being the noble policeman that he is, he had promised her that he would investigate.
So now here he was, cautiously approaching the group of men Mrs. Crow had informed him of. When he squinted, he could see them through the distance. They were standing in a closely knit pack, their arms raised above their heads as if in prayer, grasping wooden sticks tightly within their clawed hands.
'Lunatics' he sighed, shaking his head. After seven years on the force, he was not one to scare easily, but something about this particular group made him uneasy.
As if on cue, a few turned to inspect him halfheartedly. Abraham grimaced and slowed his pace to fish out a badge from his back pocket.
"Police! Don't move," he cried into the dim night, "don't move. I just want to ask you a few questions."
They didn't so much as glance at him, and he felt his mouth twist into an annoyed scowl.
When a flash of green light came bolting towards him, melting into blackness, the officer didn't have time to form a look of shock, or to even change his expression.
A frown had been etched eternally onto his cold, dead face. And when the cult arrived, moments later, standing in the spot where he had last stood, their laughter pierced the frozen night.
... … … … … … … … … … … … … ...
Many miles away, a mammoth of a train screeched to an unexpected halt.
Its compartments were filled with people, nearly all teenagers, and every single occupant fell silent within seconds of its stop. Fear wafted through the train, swirling into each compartment, and a slow but frantic buzz began to spread. Theories justifying the stop sprouted and built as each group became more desperate than the next to offer a reasonable explanation that didn't involve immediate peril. Wands were slid out of pockets, and young, innocent faces became grim.
They were preparing for the worst and yet hoping desperately, praying to Merlin, that their fears were not reality.
... ...
"I personally think we just ran out of petrol," A brown haired boy reasoned grumpily, licking the remains of a chocolate frog off of his stained fingers.
"You dimwit, we don't run off petrol." To this the boy flashed his dark eyes, exasperated, and reached for a box of lemon drops.
"No, Kat's right. I think they use some sort of spell to get us here and back," a girl put in wearily. She was about seventeen, as well as the others, with big blue-green eyes practiced on her newest book.
"Thank you, Emily," The other girl, Kat, was smirking calmly at the boy, "Oh come off it, Derrick. Stop pouting. It was a good theory."
He opened his mouth to retort but was stopped by the trains doors screeching open.
"Who in the name of Merlin would be boarding now?"
The others had no response.
... ...
The boy in question was pale, paler than most remembered even, with steel eyes. Hot flashes of metal burning in his glare.
He was tall and lean, standing straight even as he boarded the train. Shoulders back Draco, you look like a mud blood.
Hair long, falling in his eyes, his shield from the world. Disgrace. You're an absolute disgrace to the family name.
Cold, so cold.
Disappointment. Look at me, Draco. Look at your father and your mother. Look at our master, and look at yourself. Everyone else is beneath you.
... ...
Emily almost didn't look, Malfoy wasn't worth glancing at.
But a longing hunger to see what he had become was burning her mind, even as the beginning of tears pricked her eyes.
Her book's words blurred and his name became the only thing she could see, lighting her mind like a neon sign.
Draco.
Sighing in the desolate realization that she had lost a battle of will against herself, Emily craned her neck and spotted him climbing up the steps.
She saw the glares of her class mates, the fear contorting their faces. But then she looked on, and she saw what everyone else had missed. He was shaking.
Draco Malfoy was shaking.
... ...
"She's watching you again, Draco."
"Who?" The aforementioned boy glanced up at Crabbe, whose small, beady eyes were darting across the room in a paranoia.
"Pansy. She just keeps glancing at you and- she's coming. Shit. Shit. Shit!"
Confused, Draco continued to stare at his best friend, if you could call him that, unsure of the reason for his crazed reaction to this girl that they'd known since first year.
"Hey boys," she drawled, eyes lingering on Draco, drinking him in.
"Parkinson." He nodded briefly at her, barely acknowledging her presence as Crabbe stuttered a response.
"Goyle," he snapped, "what was it you wanted to ask me before,"
Draco purposely cold shouldered Crabbe, who was, he decided with a grimace, falling for Pansy.
Emotion is for the weak. From love springs defeat. Always remember that, Draco. Always remember.
Shaking out of his thoughts he focused on his friends' questioning stares.
"Pardon?"
"I said," a slightly annoyed Goyle repeated, "Did ya' have anything to do with that weird moon thing tonight?"
"Oh, that? Yes, a very simple concealment charm," Draco replied, bored with the conversation. He breathed a small sigh of relief when the train pulled up to a shaky stop near Hogwarts. Finally.
... ...
"Emily? Are you alright?" Kat asked, concern sparking in her hazel eyes.
Emily observed the emotion carefully before responding with a light, "Oh, of course. Just nervous about the year."
Her two best friends nodded sympathetically.
With Dumbledoor gone, a whole new reign of terror was unleashed and many returning students, save the Slytherins of course, were worried. Were in danger.
A regal voice broke her train of thought and she glanced over to see Malfoy and his cronies parading towards the school. In control at last. Her bitter thoughts shook her, and she tried desperately to wave them off.
Unfortunately, Fate seemed to be against her and snippets of Malfoy's conversation drifted over to where she stood.
"Young man.. Killed.. It gets easier.. Abraham Something.. Avada.. Separate mission.. Sure to be successful.."
Turning her head away, Emily hummed an old muggle song to herself.
If she heard anymore she'd explode. And if she exploded her family, and most likely herself, would have the same fate as the young Abraham-something Draco was so leisurely discussing.
... ...
Draco poked at his dinner, playing with the glob of mashed potatoes on his plate and fighting back the urge to be sick. To tell his friends to shut up. He killed a man.
Shouldn't they be mourning?
Shouldn't the world take a moment of silence for that cop who was just trying to do his job? One of hundreds. Who told his family? His wife? His children?
Fuck. His bangs slid in front of his face and he weakly shut his eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He was drowning, wanting to drown. He prayed to escape the world were he was pain and become a little boy again. When he had still been dreaming of earning his fathers pride. When he could not have even begun to imagine the nightmarish flashbacks of reeking corpses and rotting human remains that now consumed him.
You, my son, will learn. Will except.
... ...
Emily lay in her bed, anxiously reflecting on the day she had had. Her breath was shaky from nerves and fear and she struggled to control her breathing again. In.
Out. In.
Out. In.
Out. In.
She held her breath and closed her eyes. Seconds later the air gushed out of her and she sat up gasping. Damn it. She needed to escape.
.
Emily Copeland was insane.
There was no other word to describe what she doing. Sneaking into the Slytherin common room? There was no reason for her to go there. Why would she even want to go there? She was unwelcome. They would attack her.
With a burst of bravery she opened the door to the dungeons, let them.
.
She wasn't expecting the room to be as cold and musty as it was, but a vague recollection came to her when she saw the hard stone tile and meticulously hung banners. Green and silver paraded proudly above her, and a giant, curling snake displayed on the wall opposite her hissed at the unwanted visitor.
Lowering herself onto the floor she hugged her knees and took a deep breath.
"Emily?"
Her eyes flew open and she sprung from her seated position.
"Hello, Draco."
... ...
Taking a shaky breath, Draco looked into the eyes of his past.
The girl he had hated since the moment he saw her. Who he had teased endlessly.
The girl he had hexed and spat at.
She stood before him now, smaller than he remembered her to be, vulnerable and innocent.
Watching him like she knew him, not his past so much as his future.
"You shouldn't be here," he growled, "it's.. dangerous."
The threat hung in the air.
"You've never hurt me before," she announced proudly before mumbling a soft, "nothing I couldn't recover from."
"I'm not twelve anymore, Emily."
She winced at her name and stayed silent, eyes flickering between his own and a point just to the side of his head. He narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring through him as he realized she was nervous.
People are weak. They scare easily, and die fast. Never show fear, my son. It would be your downfall.
He clenched his teeth and hissed, "I've killed people. I've murdered people with this wand, and for much lesser reasons. You're betting a hell of a lot on past mercies."
And then, so quietly he almost missed it, she mumbled, "I know," before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "You can kill me if you want to. I don't mind so much anymore. It's weird because that's not something I ever thought I'd say. But with.. well, with everything that's been happening.. I've accepted it. It's kind of inevitable, really."
Emily shot him the kind of look that was wrapped in some sort of meaning, and waited a few moments.
Draco clutched his wand so tightly that his knuckles faded white and he was reminded of snow.
Christmas, he thought to himself. Think of Christmas and don't raise your fucking wand.
Presents, little kids, his father. The wand twitched. Fuck.
Abraham, remember Abraham?
His clenched hand remained virtually still at his side and she offered up a weak smile before turning softly on her heel and walking out of the room.
Nothing more had needed to be said between them.
... ... ... ...