Beginning My Purpose
The day I was born, was the same day my father was murdered by Death Eaters. They cornered him on his way to the hospital. He and I never met each other. My mother, god rest her soul, went insane after that, living four, short years in an asylum before joining my father in heaven and I blame the death eaters and the dark lord for that, too. But as for me, well, I went to an orphanage, growing up with hatred and cruelty in my heart.

No one kept my parent's death a secret from me. I knew they'd both died brutally, and because of Voldemort. And I never did recover from it. Had I been raised under any other circumstances, things would have been different. I would have been different. But I was raised under the circumstances of murder. That was me.

My parents were both pure blooded wizards. Most people don't think blood makes any difference but I know better. Blood makes all the difference in the world. But you should know that my father wasn't killed because of his blood. He was killed because of his strong opposition of Voldemort and his powerful place in the Ministry of Magic. My father was no fool.

The day I got my Hogwarts letter was the happiest day of my long, hard life. It meant I could leave the orphanage. Really, I should be a little more appreciative of that orphanage. It was, after all, the only wizard orphanage in Britain, and they didn't treat me too badly. But one can't avenge one's parents' deaths from an orphanage, can they?

I was about seven when the idea of avenging their murder first came to me. I'm not sure how or why but once the thought struck me, I knew it was destiny. My purpose in life was to torture, then maliciously murder the Death Eaters. I had never been a very happy child, but one of my greatest joys was sitting underneath a tree, reading about all of the horrible curses and hexes I could perform upon the people who had done this to me. The people who had made me an unhappy, vicious little orphan girl.

There were four of us dropped off at King's Cross Station that morning in September. Four orphans, ready to seek education, and then a future. Yeah right. All of our parent's had fallen victim to Voldemort's power. It was a sign of the times, and most children of those times were too weak to become anything after suffering through that. Nothing bums who, after barely passing through Hogwarts, would live out the rest of their nothing lives in the muggle world, working toll booths. That wasn't me. My hatred and anger would help me endure. I would achieve my dreams.

I boarded the Hogwarts Express, heart lighter than it had been in years. My life would finally begin moving towards it's purpose. I sat down in a near empty compartment, and closed my eyes. I was almost asleep when the compartment door was flung open. And a noisy group of boys entered.

I didn't dare open my eyes, letting them believe I was still asleep. I was practiced in the art of eavesdropping, and a good eavesdropper does whatever they can to make it look like they aren't listening.

"So the broom's hidden in my trunk and no one will be the wiser," A smooth, young, and boastful voice announced. It was an enjoyable voice. Naughty, naughty, I thought to myself. First years aren't allowed their own brooms you silly boy who I'm guessing is...eleven? I practically grinned at the ease of figuring it all out.

"Gimme a chocolate frog, Goyle." A low voice slowly demanded. Suddenly I began to sweat. Goyle was a familiar name. The name of a death eater.

Whenever I asked questions at the orphanage-particularly questions about Voldemort-no one would give me a straight answer. At least, no one but the cook. James was a round, rosy colored wizard who had never amounted to more than a potato skinning, fish gutting, chicken frying man. But James told me everything I ever wanted to know about life, death, and in between. And if James didn't already know, he'd ask around the pubs and the alley ways until he found out. James was the greatest mentor I ever had. It was from him that I first heard the name Goyle.

"Shut up, Crabbe, you've had enough to eat already." Another slow and somewhat stupid sounding voice scolded. Crabbe. Another name to add to my steadily growing list. These boys, I thought to myself, must be the sons of death eaters.

"Why don't both of you shut up? I'm tired of listening to your stupid mouths." The smooth voice declared. I smiled. That makes two of us, I thought.

Remembering what James had once told me, about death eaters traveling in packs, I began to question the identity of the first smooth voice, that positively oozed with vanity. What great death eater had spawned that little fox? I was tempted to turn and look, but knew it would just take me longer to find out if I did.

You could just ask, I told myself, but then dismissed the idea immediately. Asking would be like declaring myself a friendly soul, which I was not. At the moment, I wanted to remain as distant as I could from everyone.

"Come on," The smooth voice prodded. "Let's go somewhere else. It's boring in here." I listened carefully for their complete departure before opening my eyes, and following them.

I was hell bent on discovering the identity of that one boy. My curiosity had been aroused, and only his name could settle it. I spotted the group immediately, recognizing them by their voices. Two big, meat-headish looking boys, and a smaller, fit looking, blonde boy with eyes a piercing blue. I sat myself in the back seat of the corridor, staying out of sight, while hanging on their every word.

"Harry Potter?" The blonde said the name as if spitting out something nasty. "On this train? Where?"

"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle." This time they left quickly and without warning. This boy must be from a dark family, I thought. If he thinks so lowly of Harry Potter. I quickly left my seat, but was caught in the aisle by a witch with a cart of treats.

"Want anything, dearie?" The plump old lady asked.
"No," I replied coldly, darting around her. But I was too late. The boys had already ran into another compartment, making their way to the end of the train. I followed, checking each time to make sure they weren't in the compartment I was about to burst into. I didn't need anyone suspicious of me. Not yet.

Finally, I could hear them again. I waited outside the door of the next corridor and listened carefully.

"Is it true?" The smooth voice asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment.

"Yes," another voice replied, sounding a little unfriendly.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle." The smooth voice said, casually. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

I drew in a sharp breath, and fell to my knees outside the door. Malfoy. As in Lucius Malfoy. As in, the very man who plotted, and then set forth in murdering my father. My skin turned cold and clammy, and I struggled for air. Inside the compartment I could head Draco provoking a fight.

"Now that Lucius," I suddenly recalled James once telling me. "I knew him back in school. Always loved to fight, he did. Was a real slick blonde feller, loved to boss and bully people around."

Blonde. Malfoy. Draco. Lucius. It made perfect sense. The conversation in the compartment was coming to a close. I had to leave before I got caught. I leapt to my feet and ran from one end of the train to the other, where I had been "sleeping" earlier. I sat down, and waited for Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle to come back. When they did, I didn't even bother closing my eyes. Draco glanced at me briefly. I looked away, and began devising my plan.
Blood Is Everything
Hogwarts was amazing. When we first caught sight of it on our voyage across the lake, it wasn't only the muggle-borns gasping. I was surprised at my own awe. It was, after all, just a silly castle. But then it was so much more. It was a winding, spiraling, towering building that made me feel alive for the first time. Like I had been living in a mist, and finally I was opening my eyes. Everything seemed so much more real, once I saw Hogwarts.

Once across the lake, we were ushered into the castle, lectured by a stern looking woman, and then lined up for sorting. James had always been honest with me about everything that would happen at Hogwarts, all of the processes. So I knew what was going to happen. Some of the other first years were whispering about wrestling trolls, pain, and a test. I nearly laughed at them, but caught myself.

We stood there, in the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted. I knew what house I wanted to be in. What house I had to be in. Slytherin was the only house that would allow me to carry out my carefully crafted plan. It was then I realized how much my blood really did matter.

It was well known that the Slytherin House was open only to pure bloods. Had I not been pure blood, my plan would have been foiled from the beginning. It was also well known that the Malfoys only associated with pure blood families. My plan included becoming very well associated with the Malfoys. Lucky, Lucky, me, I whispered.

Then all I had to worry about was whether or not I was ambitious enough for Slytherin. Then I really did laugh out loud. An eleven year old girl who had spent her life plotting to avenge the murder of her parents. An eleven year old who knew exactly what curse she would use to kill the filthy death eater. An eleven year old who did nothing but prepare for the murder she would someday commit. If that wasn't Slytherin, I didn't know what else it could be, except maybe hell.

The sorting hat was brought out, and placed upon a stool in front of the great hall. It sang a little song that was very clever, and that I would have found quite amusing had I not been in such a great hurry to begin.

The stern looking professor began calling names from a long roll of parchment. Crabbe and Goyle were put immediately in Slytherin. Terry Boot from the orphanage went to be a Ravenclaw, and several others were called before...."Lewis, Adrian"

I stepped forward thinking only of how desperately I needed Slytherin. Sitting on the stool, and placing the hat on my head, I waited.

"I see, yes." The hat spoke to me. "Hufflepuff won't do, no. And not Ravenclaw. You are a very strong person. Very strong, wise and..."

"Slytherin," My mind hissed. "I belong in Slytherin."

"Do you think so? Well, you certainly have the makings of greatness. If you say so...SLYTHERIN!"

I exploded off the stool, set the hat down, and trotted to the Slytherin table. There was a small applause. No more than I expected as no one knew me, but I was pleased to see Draco was clapping. He would make this much easier than I ever expected.

I ate a large dinner, filling up on all that Crabbe and Goyle left. But as I munched I listened carefully. Draco was comparing his weekly pocket money with an older boy. Money seemed to be important to him. I smiled. When you lived in an orphanage your whole life, having no access to your parent's account, you learned to treasure money as well.

The Slytherin prefect led us to our house. We traveled down staircase after staircase, through door after door, going so deep into the earth I expected Lucifer to greet us at the common room door.

"Girls through there, boys through there!" The prefect directed us through separate doors. There were three other girls in the first year dormitory. I immediately dragged my trunk to the bed by the window and went to sleep.

A New Crowd
Over that year, I befriended the girls from my dormitory, not really liking any of them, but not really having much of a choice. I studied hard and got top marks out of all the Slytherin first years, probably the best student right after that Hermione Granger.

I was always watching Draco, listening to him. I knew all of his likes, dislikes, and habits. He was purely a brat. It seemed his greatest joy in life was giving other people trouble. Especially Harry Potter.

Let me explain my stand on Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and the Hermione girl. I admired all of them, and knew they would be good people. If I was a different kind of person with a different purpose in life, they probably would have been my best friends. But I wasn't a kind, good person. I was evil in my own, justified little way.

And Harry Potter...it angered me the way people called him the Boy Who Lived. What were the rest of the orphans who's parents were victims to dark magic? What did they call Terry Boot, and Angelicka Flick, and Franky Bullstrom? What was I? Just because some force of luck had caused the dark lord to fall at Harry's little feet, didn't make him any more remarkable than the rest of us. Or maybe it did, and I just resented him.

Often I would remind myself that someday I would be credited with the downfall of one of the most terrible Death Eaters out there. That would be my great feat, and how surprised everyone would be when the little Slytherin girl turned against Slytherin's own!

I turned twelve in May, the summer after my first year at Hogwarts. James was waiting for me at the gate when I returned to the orphanage. He and I talked for hours the day I got back. He had lots of gossip to share, and so did I, after the Sorcerer's Stone incident involving, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Of course, even James had trouble believing that the Dark Lord was really a part of it. But I knew the truth. Voldemort was back, and biding his time until he could regain power.

Halfway through the summer, I woke, and went as usual, straight to the kitchen to spend the day with James. But when I got there, he was sitting on his stool, motionless.

"I've got some news for you, Adrian." He gave me a weak smile. "A family has come to adopt you."

I stared at him blankly for nearly a minute. "Adopt me?"

"Yes, they called this morning."

"But I haven't met any couple. How do they know they want me?"

"You're a great student, Adrian. And a Slytherin. A childless couple was interested."

"James..."

"Their names are Norris and Harriet Lawrence." He told me, taking my small hands in his great, meaty palms. "And they're very close with...the Malfoys." I was shocked, speechless, numb.

"Now Adrian," James began quickly. "I know you. And I know you've been entertaining the idea of someday killing him but I beg you, not yet. I know I can't talk you out of killing him entirely, but please promise you won't try anything until you're older."

"Of course not, James." I blinked, still blown away. "I'm not daft."

"You promise?"

"I promise, James. I won't try anything."

I went back to my room then, and waited for the orphanage headmistress Betsy, to come and deliver the news herself. And the next day, Mr. And Mrs. Lawrence were waiting outside the front gate to take me home. James was there to bid me farewell, and so was Betsy.

"Goodbye, lass," Betsy gave me a quick hug. "We'll all miss you round here."

"I'll miss you too."

James smiled at me, then collected me in a massive hug. "Goodbye, Adrian. You will be desperately missed." He set me loose, then whispered, "You may be a Slytherin, and your surname may be Lawrence, but you are a good girl."

I smiled at James and left then, knowing he was wrong. I wasn't a good person. I was mean with cruel intentions. And my being adopted by the Lawrence's was just another bout of luck.

As soon as I stepped out of the gate, Harriet Lawrence rushed forward. "Norris, she's so beautiful. I've never seen such a beautiful child before." She gushed on and on. "And so smart. You know, she got top marks in school this year."

"And more importantly," Norris interrupted his wife's endless prattle. "She's a Slytherin. Best of them all."

You mean most dangerous, violent, and cruel I mentally corrected him, but smiled on the outside. "Thank you both, so much."

"Oh dear, thank you." Harriet's eyes grew wide, and she was almost frightening. "Your presence will be a delight in our home."

I'm sure, I thought to myself, intending to please Harriet in every way I could. I needed only good things passed on to the Malfoys about me. The less suspicious of me people were, the easier it would be for me to achieve my life goal.
In With the Right People
Within a week Harriet had me made over into a star. She taught me spells to braid my hair, that I could use at school, and she showed me how to look my best. I was grateful for this. Looking good would be an asset in the road ahead, and I knew it.

Once she had me looking just the way she liked, and behaving like a perfect lady, Harriet began planning a grand party in order to introduce me to all of the best families. I knew when she said "best" that she meant families like the Malfoys; rich, and well known, and of the same social class as Harriet and Norris. And most likely Death Eaters, as I assumed Norris was.

I was excited, and nervous, and afraid. I often worried that a death eater would recognize my background, and know what I was playing at, living with the Lawrence's. But that was stupid. If anyone did suspect my background, they would realize I had drastically changed if I was willingly living with death eaters.

Either way, my adrenaline was rushing as the guests began arriving on a Saturday afternoon. One by one, they showed up on our doorstep coming in flying carriages, on brooms, and some just apparating out of no where. All of them were dressed very richly.

I was dressed in a dark blue sleeveless gown with a huge bustling skirt, and white gloves that came past my elbows. I looked every bit as elegant as Harriet wanted me to. My long, dark hair was coiled on top of my head. It's a wonder I'm not wearing a bloody tiara, I thought, black eyes blinking at my reflection.

But whatever Harriet wanted Harriet got. She was a social queen, and she knew how to make me fit in with her "crowd" and that's what I wanted-what I needed-desperately.

Harriet began introducing me to the couples as they came through our door. They all seemed the same, smelled the same, looked the same to me. I was, after all, waiting for just one family to arrive. And arrive they did, in a grand carriage from the sky. And as the man stepped out of his carriage I knew immediately-Lucius Malfoy.

His long, blonde hair was tied back with a green silk bow, and he wore a green jacket with gold buttons. It looked like money. A woman stepped from the carriage next-she was particularly snobby looking. That's what I remember most about her. Draco came next, wearing a suit like his father's. But his hair, not being near long enough for a ponytail, was slicked back, flawlessly.

"Ah, the Malfoys!" Harriet exclaimed.

"Good evening Hattie." Lucius gave a quick bow. His wife stood behind him, and gave what I presume to be a smile, though it looked more like a grimace than anything. Draco came up beside his father and bowed in precisely the same fashion. The resemblance between he and his father was fascinating. Alike in all but their voices.

"And who is this charming young lady?" Lucius turned to me. His eyes were like Draco's, too, except rather lifeless.

"This is our Adrian." Harriet held onto my shoulders, proudly.

"You don't say!" Lucius raised his brow, as if he was truly shocked. "Why Harriet, you didn't tell us she was such a beauty!"

"Thank you, Governor Malfoy," I gave my best curtsy.
"And so polite." He added. I can't wait to kill you, I thought. Charming, a beauty, and polite; I was ready to shoot us both.

Draco peered at me from his father's side. I glimpsed slight recognition in his eyes, as if he knew who I was but didn't know quite why. I never spoke in class unless I had to, and for the most part, I had stayed out of his way. He had no reason to know me.

All through dinner, Draco kept glancing up at me, sometimes staring. I was very pleased, though I knew that at twelve, Draco's interest in girls was little. My time was coming, sooner than I had thought, too.

After supper, Harriet charmed a harp to play in the sitting room. All of the adults sat down, and I noted two sofas that had never been there before, in the corner. Draco and I were the only children present. I stood quietly in the corner, waiting for Draco to approach me.

He stood at his father's side for a long while, looking over every now and then. Finally I made eye contact with him and smiled, flirtatiously. He slowly strutted across the room.

"Hello," I greeted him, giving a tiny curtsy.

"Hi," He returned with a sharp bow. "You're in my house at school, aren't you?"

I nodded shyly. "Yeah,"

"It's funny, I never realized it before."

"I'm kind of quiet."

"I noticed that." Draco smiled. I looked around and realized I rather enjoyed trying to ensnare him. "So, um, do you like it with the Lawrence's?

"Oh yes, they're very pleasant people," I told him. They weren't pleasant, but they did have connections. That was the truth I was dying to share with him.

"They're pretty well to do, too." Draco noted, eying the lavish sitting room.

"Yeah," I agreed, knowing Draco's favorite topic. "Lots of money in the family."

"Like the Malfoys, almost." Draco commented. "Our manor is just a little larger but-,"

"Adrian?" Harriet called for me. I found her standing by the piano. "Adrian, would you grace us with a song?" She asked, then turning to the surrounding people she bragged, "Adrian is very talented with music."

I daintily walked towards the piano, sat down and smiled at them all. They smiled their fake, rich, murderer smiles back, and I began shuffling through the songs on the piano, trying to find a suitable one for the occasion. I finally found one I had been working on for weeks, that was beautiful, simple, romantic, and everything I was not, but that Harriet wanted me to be. It was perfect.

I began to play, and sing:
They're playing the song
That made us one
The song
That bound our hearts.
You're kissing the kiss
That made me yours
The kiss
That wooed me over
We're being the pair
That made it through
The pair
Everlasting

As I finished on that last high note, all of them clapped their dainty little claps and smiled at each other and Harriet. I turned on the bench and met Draco's gaze, my painted lips curling into a deviously sweet smile. I had set a role for myself.

From then on, Draco understood that I was a sweet little rich girl on the outside, but someone else entirely within. We saw each other on several other occasions that summer, at balls or social affairs, and we talked a little. I was still proper with him, minding my manners and being a lady. But even a lady was allowed to make remarks-clever comments that caused Draco to sneer or laugh with me.

I honestly enjoyed it too. And not just because I knew that with every smile he gave me, that with every wisecrack I made I was getting closer to my real target, Lucius. But also because we were both a little bit mean, and a little bit clever.

Dark Times
Over the next couple of years, there were more and more signs of Voldemort and his possible return into the world of magic. I believed-no, I knew he was out there. And the events that took place at Hogwarts just firmly assured my beliefs.

Like the Chamber of Secrets. It was opened in my second year, and many students were petrified by the basilisk, set upon them by Tom Marvelo Riddle (Voldemort) acting through a first year named Ginny Weasley. At one point, Ginny was kidnapped and taken into the Chamber, where Harry Potter promptly rescued her, with his brother Ron.

And I was reading about odd things in the daily prophet. Strange sightings by muggles, weird behavior of certain animals considered able to "see" the future. Not very many people were concerned, but those of us who were began searching for answers. Being only a student, I had to satisfy my curiosity in the school library, reading up on the events of the previous reign of the dark lord. Much of this was in the restricted section, but being an attentive student in his class, Professor Snape gave me all the passes I needed.
Over the summers, I saw a lot of the Malfoy family. Lucius and Norris were very close, and they visited one another constantly, taking their family along as well. I was not, however, fond of the Malfoy manor. Filled with dark and mysterious rooms, it proved to be rather uncomfortable. But I always behaved as though I was greatly impressed with the place, to please Draco.

Third year was the beginning of a frightening, and interesting time. Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and was on the loose. Since Norris, my adopted father, was a death eater himself, I knew Sirius Black was not on the side of Voldemort. Norris and Lucius talked about it constantly, and laughed at how well Peter Pettigrew had covered for himself. But I was still terrified. So many years in Azkaban really could drive a man to murder. Thirteen years of being an orphan had done it for me.

I felt sorry for Sirius Black knowing that if anyone ever caught him he would be killed immediately, because no one else knew of his innocence. But what was I to do? There were several times I considered sending an anonymous letter to the Ministry of Magic with the real story of Peter Pettigrew's "death" but then realizing I could be traced by ministry officials. The last thing I needed was to be linked with good doings.

Because things were going well, as far as Draco was concerned. I could tell that he truly enjoyed my company and in my fourth year at Hogwarts, I honestly expected that he'd ask me to be his date to the Yule Ball. It came as a nasty shock to me when he asked Pansy Parkinson instead, but she immediately improved the situation by becoming possessive and demanding and causing Draco to hate her.

And that is where I stepped in. With help from Harriet (I had carefully explained to her how much I fancied Draco to recruit her assistance) I could look stunning almost constantly. Draco appreciated things that looked beautiful and costly and so I made a great effort to attract his attentions. It was not difficult.

A Nasty Interval
By the end of the fourth year it was official. Voldemort had made his return in the world, and was gaining power everywhere. The death of Cedric Diggory and the near escape of Harry Potter at the finale of the Triwizard Tournament had shaken me up badly, and I often woke during the nights in cold sweats, dreaming of murders by the dark lord and the white masked villains whose forearms bore the sign of the death eaters.

Norris would leave home for extended amounts of time, and return looking fatigued. He would snap at Harriet and myself, and startle at the slightest sounds. And visitors frequented the Lawrence estate often and without explanation. I could be playing the piano in the parlor, when suddenly a knock would come at the door, and Norris would send me to my room, with strict orders to be still. Then he would sit in his office with the visitor for hours, talking in harsh whispers. It was nerve racking.

The brightest hours of the steadily darkening times were when Lucius would grace our humble abode with a visit, and bring along Draco. Draco and I could talk for hours, sharing the same demonic sense of humor. He was Lucius' son, but I did come to like being near him.

There were times, though, when he, too, would arrive at our manor looking exhausted. If his home life was anything like mine was coming to be, I could understand why. Near the end of the summer, strange shrieks might emit from the cellar during the night, and odd characters were often about. The type of people who sent cold fear through your blood, pulsing within you like ice.

Draco's Secrets
A week before our return to Hogwarts, Draco told me that he "greatly admired me" and found me to be "remarkable". We were officially an item that fifth year. It was almost funny, me dating the son of the man who had murdered my father. But it was all apart of something bigger, and I can't say I didn't enjoy the look on Pansy Parkinson's face when she found out. Besides, it brought great joy to Harriet when I told her I was going out with a Malfoy, since the Malfoys were the wealthiest wizarding family in Britain.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle accompanied me everywhere at school, unless Draco wanted us to be alone, in which case he would tell them to move on. But even in private, all we did was talk for a long while. Draco would tell me about all of the expensive things in his manor or tell me about the riches that would someday be his, or complain about Harry Potter and his friends.

But the most important, informational day of our relationship that year, came in November. Draco took me walking on the grounds. It was important that I let him think everything was his decision, his choice. Draco hated to be bossed, especially by a woman. I hated letting him boss me, and thought him extremely sexist, but I endured it anyways, knowing it was for a greater good.

Anyway, we were walking and I was quite amused with Draco's silence. The boy who loved to talk was quiet, and it felt so awkward, walking with him in the quiet. I knew Draco for his voice, and I spent my life listening to him. But it had stopped and I was quite baffled as to what I should do.

Suddenly Draco's eyebrows drew together in pain, he bit his lip, and stopped walking, hands determinedly stuck in his pockets.

"Are you all right, Draco?"

"Come on," He gestured, and ran towards a cluster of trees. Naturally I followed him. Checking to see that we were well out of site, he said to me, "Adrian, I've been a very bad boy this summer." And pulled the sleeves of his cloak up. There, on his arm, was a tattoo of a skull surrounded by a snake-the sign of the death eaters-a deep black against his pale skin.

I gasped. I'd known it was bound to happen, since Voldemort had been powerful enough to kill someone just months before. Of course he would call for his servants again, call for Draco's dad. But I hadn't expected Draco to...not so soon. I had still thought of him as a boy, but seeing that mark on his arm made him seem suddenly closer to manhood than I'd expected. "Does it hurt?" I asked slowly, my skin suddenly prickling with anxiety and fear.

"It burns like you wouldn't believe." Draco said, frowning again. I brushed over the mark with my fingertips. Draco grabbed my hand and placed it over the fiery tattoo. "Your hands," Draco said quietly, his voice like silk. "Are so cool, and so soft." He had that note to his voice, that charming note he used to draw in prey. I was his prey. I almost smiled.

His blue eyes sparkled, and he leaned over, and kissed me, softly on the lips. I was completely taken aback, and jumped nearly a foot away. Draco just laughed, and threw his arms around my waist. He pushed me back until he had me pinned against a tree, and there he kissed me again. All I could think of was my parents. How his father killed them. How I was kissing the enemy. But I couldn't pull away. Instead I just kissed back, hard, trying to crush him. I kissed so hard my jaw hurt, but he just smiled.

"What a little devil you are, Adrian," He laughed. "I never would have expected it of you." I turned away, ashamed. "Don't look away." Draco pleaded. "You're so beautiful. Not just pretty, you're...grand looking, like noble or something. Royalty. My queen."

"Are you the king, Draco?" I asked, pushing his sleeve back and revealing the tattoo of the Dark Lord. He glanced at it, then looked up at the sky.

"King of my own world, yes." He replied. I left it at that. Taking his hand, I led him back inside, smiling and looking like royalty. But in my soul I was afraid. In all of my plotting I had never imagined Draco would kiss me. It was unnavoidable, really, and I should have known that. But it made me feel weak and vulnerable. It was dangerous. Draco Malfoy was getting to be a danger to me.

Once we reached the castle I whispered, "So you have to meet...him tonight?"

"Yes," Draco answered, looking worried. I rubbed his palm with my thumb, and gave him a reassuring smile. His fear had to be great. I would shiver and shake to my knees if I ever had to stand before the dark lord. I would die, or wish for death. In a way, Draco was brave. A terrible, evil person, but brave nonetheless.

He escaped from the castle as soon as the sky was dark that night. I watched him from my dorm window, just after dinner. Then I got started on my transfiguration assignment. Later that night, when the girls in my dorm were quite asleep, I pulled on a bathrobe, and waited in the common room for Draco to come back. I knew it would please him to see I'd waited for him to return, and perhaps he might tell me what the meeting had been about.

He finally crawled through the common room door at twelve o' four. He almost passed me, sitting on the couch before the fire, but did a double take and smiled.

"Waiting for me, Adrian?"

"I wanted to...make sure...you-,"

"I'm fine." He chuckled, dropping his cloak on the floor and sitting next to me on the couch. The fire reflected in his eyes, making them sparkle.
"What was the meeting for, Draco?" I dared to ask.

"Dark things," He told me, sighing.

"Such as?"

"What," He began, throwing his arm over my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. "Is your curiosity about these things?"

"I just wondered. It's a little frightening sometimes..." I lied, making him feel a little manly and strong.

"You don't have anything to worry about." He smiled, playing with a lock of my hair. I had purposely let it down for him.

"Why not?" I asked, hoping he would confirm what I suspected in my heart.

"You're a pure blood, who lives with a family on His side, and, well," He looked at the fire. "You're my girl, after all."

His girl. That was important. Things were working my way. Draco leaned in and kissed me, grabbing my shoulders and lowering me to my back. He was very smooth, but I was not about to let him lay on me. I squirmed out of his grasp.

He smirked. "Yes, well," He stood up and straightened his robes. "Another time then." As he stepped into the boy's dormitory I rolled my eyes. It was easy to go on pleasing Draco. And someday he would please me greatly, by placing his father's life in my hands.

The rest of my fifth year went like that, with him attending Death Eater meetings, me waiting in the common room for him to return, and then trying to get any information I could out of him. Most of the time, I would end our nights in the common room, putting up with his kissing me for about fifteen minutes before I would pull away and go to bed.
Honest Affection and Murder
That summer, I realized that I had truly charmed Draco into caring about me. I wasn't just around to flatter him, and make him feel special. But I honestly meant something to him.

This startling revelation came about in June, when he arrived on our door step with two tickets to a Weird Sister's Concert.

"I know they're your favorite," He explained, pale cheeks going slightly crimson. "And I wanted to...please you. You've seemed so quiet and...sad lately, I-"

"Draco," I threw my arms around his neck, feeling honest gratitude. He held me for a moment on the porch, and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek before towing me inside. We were both startled to find that his father had apparated just seconds before, to our parlor. Draco dropped my hand, and stared up at Lucius with matching coldness.
Lucius' lips curled into a false smile and he turned to me. "Adrian, dear," he began. "Is your father around?"

For a split second I forgot that he was talking about Norris. For a split second I thought he had figured out just who I was, and who my real father was. For a split second I thought he was making some cruel implications about the fate my real father had met. I stared back at him, sure that the venomous feeling inside of me showed in my expression. Then, realizing what he was getting at, I laughed it off and replied, "I think he's in his office Mr. Malfoy, would you like me to get him for you?"

"That's quite alright my dear," Lucius replied. "And please do call me Lucius." He turned and sought out Norris, leaving Draco and I alone.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked me. I nodded, reassuringly.

"Are you?" I asked.

Draco laughed, but for a moment the pain and worry that came with being a death eater, was apparent in his blue eyes. Like clouds, drifting across an azure sky.

The concert was two nights later. It was wonderful, and it was then that I came to understand how deep Draco's feelings for me were. I wasn't just a girl to kiss, to claim. I was an anchor, keeping him from totally slipping into the darkness. I could see it in the way he watched me, the way he clung to my hand as we made our way through the masses of witches and wizards at the concert. He truly felt something for me. And perhaps...just perhaps those feelings were mutual.

But reality gave me a swift kick in the stomach, when, the next morning I woke to find Norris gone, and Harriet bawling in the kitchen.

"What's happened?" I asked her. "What's wrong?"

"Norris is..." she cried harder and louder. "He's gone, Adrian. They took him to Azkaban this morning."

"What for?" I wondered aloud, heart beginning to beat faster.

"Well of course you knew, child," She began. "You knew that Norris was a death eater." I nodded. "Well, not even I knew that he was about to," She inhaled sharply. "That he was about to murder anyone."

A murder. My adopted father had murdered someone. Granted, Norris had never been my favorite person in the world, but murder? I couldn't imagine it. Harriet collapsed to the floor in sobs, at which point Lucius and his wife apparated out of thin air, and began comforting her. I slowly backed away, turning and leaving the horrendous scene for the comforts of a room I controlled. Minutes later, the owl post arrived through my bedroom window. A copy of the Daily Prophet was among the contents, and I quickly began scanning the paper for some idea of what had happened.
I found it in an article entitled Death Eater Puts End To Potions Master: The Murder Of Severus Snape. The rest of the article explained how Norris had killed Snape, who was taking a holiday in Paris, and then told of Norris' swift apprehension by Ministry Officials. Since the curse used to kill the professor had been an unforgivable curse, Norris would be granted life in Azkaban, though we all knew that no life existed in Azkaban. Only terrible anguish and death.

By the time Draco arrived by broomstick, I was in a terrible state. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, and I felt so cold that breathing was made difficult. Draco stepped quietly through my bedroom door, and slowly approached me.

Placing a hand on my shoulder he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Did you know about this?" I asked him, pulling away from his touch. "Did you know they were going to kill Snape?"

He sat down beside me, and whispered, "It was to be expected, yes."

"Why?" I asked, my voice breaking, betraying me my weakness.

"He was a traitor to the Dark Lord."

I was quiet, unmoving, for a moment. "Who else will die? What else is 'to be expected'?"

"The dark lord does not plan to move until winter comes. He won't kill anyone until then."

"Draco." I began, sternly, full of hatred. "From now on, you will be completely honest with me about who will die and who will not and when. You will tell me these things, or you will not keep me."

"Adrian..."

"I mean it, Draco." I turned away from him.

"I promise, Adrian," Draco rested his head on my shoulder, and took my hand. "I promise I'll tell you."

No Line Between Good and Evil
I was not happy to be returning to Hogwarts that fall. Draco had not lied to me about the murders and there had been no new deaths. But my adopted father, Norris, had killed a respected Professor at Hogwarts. And I felt guilty, as though Norris' crimes were my own. I felt like I didn't belong-didn't deserve to be there. And that first evening of my sixth year, Dumbledore called me to his office, and I knew that he agreed-I shouldn't have been there.

Professor Vincent-Snape's replacement and the head of Slytherin-left me in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat in a plush chair in front of the fireplace. "Please sit down, Adrian." He motioned towards the chair next to him. I sat.

"Adrian, given the terrible circumstances of this summer, I felt it was appropriate for the two of us to have a small chat."

I nodded.

"You see," He began again. "I in no way hold you responsible for the actions of Norris Lawrence. And you will not be punished or treated any differently."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"But that's not what I wanted to talk about, Adrian." He told me, glancing over his shoulder at the phoenix on a perch behind his desk. "Because it is my opinion that you feel worse about the murder of Severus than the loss of your adopted father. I know your true identity Adrian. I know who your parents were, how they died, and a very wise old cook," Dumbledore smiled at me. "Told me your intentions with Lucius Malfoy."

James, I thought to myself, grinning as well.

"And I have paid close attention to you over the last few years, Adrian, and I have watched you surround yourself with dark people. Influential people. And it was very cunning of you to ensnare Draco as you have done. But has it ever occurred to you that purpose you have other purposes with the Malfoy family?"

"Such as what, sir?" I asked.

"Well, Adrian, I assume you know how strongly Draco admires you," He told me. "And how willingly he will disclose certain...information."

"About the death eaters..." I whispered, realization setting in.

"Precisely." Dumbledore nodded. "And you may feel guilty about using Draco in that way, I don't know. But I must say, he is not really all that supportive of what the death eaters are doing, either. And perhaps you could...bring him around."

I nodded again.

"It is up to you, Adrian." Dumbledore stood and brushed off his robes. "I am just trying to help you see that you have a choice. You don't have to stand by and watch the innocent be slaughtered."

"Thank you, Professor." I turned to leave, but then had to ask, "Professor, if you know that the Malfoys are death eaters, then why--?"

"Some things are not up to me, Adrian my dear." He sighed. "And believe it or not, there are people in this world who think I'm a crack pot old fool." He smiled at me as I left the office, feeling relieved and scared all at once.
I knew what he was suggesting. He was suggesting I be a spy, suggesting that I put myself at risk of being killed by Voldemort. It was a good suggestion, and yet frightening.

"Ah, well." I told myself. "I have until the winter to think about it."

And So Begins the End
And the murders rolled in. I waited nights in the common room, for Draco to return from the meetings. Then he would tell me who was to be killed and when. He never asked why I needed to know. Either he thought it was to keep myself from being shocked, or he knew I was trying to prevent murders from happening, and just didn't care. Wanted them to be prevented.

But Dumbledore was right. Draco wasn't proud of what he was doing. He hated it, hated himself for it, and it made him miserable. After the very first meeting he went to that December, he came back to the common room looking badly shaken. "Arthur Weasley." He told me. He slung his cloak over a chair and say down next to me on the couch.

"A bad meeting?" I asked him, feeling sick myself.

"Just...frightening is all." He said, leaning in, pulling me towards him. He kissed me, I kissed him back. Within seconds he was leaning against the arm of the couch, me in his arms.

"You're so special to me," He began. "You mean more to me than anyone else in my life. And so I can tell you things...can't I?"

"Of course, Draco" I replied. "Anything."

"Sometimes-sometimes I feel guilty. I feel wrong for doing what I'm doing. And Adrian, I'm not a nice person, you know that. I'm a total jerk. But I feel like..." He took a deep breath. "I feel like I'm not a murderer. I know it's wrong, I feel that it's wrong and sometimes..." another deep breath. "I wish I was born someone else, or not born at all. You understand?"

God, did I understand. I understood so well that I wanted to hold him tightly in my arms, wanted to cry to him, wanted to kiss him badly. Desperately did I want to be someone else, born into another family, a happy family like the Weasleys. I wanted...wanted not to be possessed by hatred and murder. Wanted my life to be simple and honest. But I couldn't tell him any of that, so I simply muttered, "Mmhm."

"And you don't think I'm cowardly?"

"No." I told him honestly. "There is nothing cowardly in feeling badly for killing.

"Adrian," Draco said breathlessly. "I love you."

"I...love you, too." I replied, frightened at the truth in the statement. Then, Draco slipped quietly from the common room, into his dorm. I ran a hand through my long hair. It was damp...with Draco's silent tears.

The next year was long and hard. Draco told me of every murder the death eaters plotted-or at least all that he knew of. And I would try desperately to prevent it from happening. Molly and Arthur received four hundred galleons from me, and a letter from Dumbledore urging them to go on a nice little "holiday" the day after I learned of the plan to kill them. Of course, they naturally assumed that the money was from Dumbledore, but that was how I wanted it.. No one could know there was a spy.

And others received letters and money or invitations to Hogwarts, out of the blue. Because I reported everything I heard to Dumbledore who would find some way to keep the victims out of reach, or report the death eater who would commit the crime to the Ministry, who would then arrest the murdering filth before they could harm anyone.

But sometimes it was too late. Sometimes the death eaters would move too fast, or find other ways. Arthur and Molly were targets constantly, and it was hard to keep them away from home and work. Finally, Dumbledore suggested they go into hiding. He was their secret-keeper, and the official guardian of their children while they were gone.

The point is, people did die. There was nothing I could do about it, it was a fact of life. In my sixth year, Harry got into another scrape, narrowly missing death. And Hermione was near fatally injured, too. That was when Ron came out about loving her. I was in the nurse's office at the time, with a sprained wrist, when Ron's lips met Hermione's. She was asleep at the time. I smiled where I was, knowing that Ron would make her very happy when she woke, and at the same time knowing it was partially my fault she was hurt to begin with.

One day, a particularly frightening day, Draco collapsed into my arms and sobbed, his entire body heaving. He was afraid, I was afraid, we were all afraid. So far, he had not been called upon to commit a murder, but he was petrified that the orders would soon come.

"Why did you join, Draco?" I asked, holding his thin body in my arms.

"My father." He replied.

"Do you love your father?" I asked him, fearing his answer. Draco was quiet for a moment.

"No," he finally said, sitting up on his own. "No, I despise the man, I hate him he's a murderer." I was relieved. It would make the task-my task which was coming quickly-much easier.

It's All Over
My worst fears came to light one night in April. Draco came back...with orders to kill. He was to finish Ron and Hermione, by sundown the following day. I sat on the couch in silence.

"Adrian," He turned to me, eyes wide. "I hate them. I have always hated that redhead and his mudblood girlfriend. But I can't kill them. I can't kill anyone. I'm a horrible person, and sometimes I wish they were dead, but I don't have the guts to do it myself. I can't."
I sighed, and shook my head. "I know." I told him. "You can't."

"But he'll kill me if I don't." He said.

"I know." I answered again. "But I'll be with you."

We didn't worry. And the next day we went to all of our classes as usual. But after lunch, Harry Potter turned up missing. He had been kidnapped.

Everyone spent the rest of the day in the great hall, waiting for some news. There was none. No one knew where he had been taken, or how he was, or when. But we all knew who. Voldemort had taken The Boy Who Lived. Had stolen him from us, and we were silent with fear. Even Draco was pained and worried for a boy he hated. For a boy he couldn't stand, had wished death upon thousands of times before.

And then, half past four, the doors of the great hall were flung open, and who should be standing there but Harry himself. He was bloody and bruised, and pale-looking like death itself, but he was standing there in front of us. And then he said the three greatest words of over a century.

"Voldemort...is...dead."

And then he collapsed, face first onto the floor. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher and accompanied Harry up to Madame Pomfrey. After hours of quiet, Draco began to clap. And then we all clapped, and cried and cheered.

A week later Harry came back to conscious, and explained everything that happened. Basically, Voldemort and Harry had dueled. Harry won.

The next few days were full of arrests. Nearly all of the reaming death eaters were dragged to Azkaban. Molly and Arthur Weasley came out of hiding after nearly two years, and Sirius Black's name was cleared. It was like the sun shining again, after hundreds of dark days.

Unfortunately, they did not arrest Lucius Malfoy. I wish they had, because if they had I would not have had to kill him, and Draco and I would still be together. But they did not, and after school had ended, I returned to Harriet's, knowing that I had to do it. I had to kill Lucius Malfoy.

I decided to call upon the Malfoy house one day in early June. I was nervous, not only because I had to kill Lucius, but because I had to deliver some very important news to Draco. News that had caused me to reconsider murdering Lucius, for the sake of Draco and I, but that in the end, would not prevent me from killing him. News that was a result of my deep love and trust for Draco.

Draco met me at the door, and took me into his arms. His embrace was warm, and for the first time in a long time he looked healthy. For a moment I was comforted, but just as suddenly remembered what I was there for.

"I know you have something to tell me, Adrian." Draco said. "But I have something to ask you first. He got down on his knees. "Adrian Lawrence, be my bride?"

I looked down at him, and saw the pride, the hope, and the love in his eyes. Tears filled my own, and I simply nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you." I told him, knowing that when the afternoon was through he wouldn't want anything to do with me.

Draco stood, took my hand, and dragged me inside. "We have to tell my parents."

I wanted to say no, throw his hand from my wrist and run away. But I couldn't. He led me into his father's office, where Lucius was pacing across the floor.

"Dad," Draco began. "I have some important news to share with you."

"Yes, Draco?" Lucius looked up and smiled. Suddenly I was enraged. How dare he still be smiling after all those people had died. How dare he be happy. How dare he be alive! I gripped my wand tightly.

"Adrian and I are going to be married."

Lucius smile false smiled just spread further across his face, though his eyes showed no emotion. "Congratulations." He shook Draco's hand and reached for mine.

"There is something you should know about me first, Lucius." I told him. "Something important.

"Yes, my dear?"

"You-filthy scum that you are-you killed my parents. You made me an orphan. It is your fault. And it is your fault that so many others are alone now. Me. Charlie Weasley's wife. Terry Boot. Countless other orphans."

Lucius backed away, looking startled. Within a second he had regained himself. I should have killed him then. But I couldn't. There were things to be said yet. I should have, but I didn't.

"I never expected to see you in my office," Lucius sneered, leaning against the fireplace. "Most people who's loved ones were victims stay far away from me." I smiled back at him, my most sincere grin.

"I bet you didn't. expect me." I replied.

"What the devil is going on?" Draco asked, panic rising through his smooth, delicious voice.

"Especially not after Harry killed Voldemort, eh Lucius? You thought you were off the hook....and who would have guessed your son's fiancé was the daughter of a man you killed, of a woman you drove to insanity?" I watched as Lucius' eyes lit with realization. I continued. "Who would have guessed that your close friends, the Lawrence's would have adopted the very same girl..."

"I shall kill you in the same way I killed your father, then..." Lucius spoke casually. "Slowly and painfully."

"No. She's my fiancé!" Draco protested. "I'll murder you with my bare hands if you even dare to-"

"Shut UP Draco!" Lucius flicked his wand and sent his heavy oak desk flying towards his son, pinning Draco's lower half to the wall. "This is YOUR fault!"

"Draco!" I screamed in horror, and at the same time turned to Lucius. Pointing my wand at him, I screamed out with all my strength, "Avada KEDAVRA!"

As I turned and ran to Draco, I could hear Lucius Malfoy crumple to the floor. Pushing the desk away, I lowered Draco to the ground. He groaned piteously.

"Oh Draco, this is my fault. I'm so sorry!" I lay my head on his chest and sobbed. Because through my malicious plotting and scheming I had come to love him. And that was why I allowed things to get so carried away. That was why I was crying my eyes out as the life left him.

"Adrian," Draco whispered. "Don't blame yourself. My father," he drew a sharp, painful breath in. "My father was a murderer and he killed me. It's not," another sharp breath. "It's not your fault."

"I really do love you, Draco." I told him. "It's not all a plot."

"I really love you, too, Adrian." Draco grinned, and then chuckled, "Damn, that's a heavy desk. Worth a lot, I reckon."

"Oh Draco," I smiled through my tears. And then I knew what I had to tell him. "I'm going to have a baby."

"My baby?"

"Yeah yours. You got me pregnant you bum." I laughed.

Draco smiled. "Make sure the baby is always happy, Adrian." I nodded. "And Adrian," he added slowly, weakly. "Remember me, and take care of yourself."

Draco left me then. I kissed his soft, pale lips once more, before the Ministry Officials showed up. I explained what happened, and watched as they hauled Draco and Lucius away.

Lucius was buried in Azkaban. But convincing Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley that Draco had committed no real crimes, he was buried in the Malfoy cemetery.

I took the name Malfoy, and lived in a small cottage by myself, making things as warm and comfortable as I could before the baby came. Surprisingly, Harriet showed up and took care of me during my long months of pregnancy. I had always known Harriet wasn't too bad of a woman.

She was born in January. A pale, blonde, little girl with icy blue eyes. I named her Deolinda Malfoy, and raised her to be a happy, ornery little girl. Draco would have wanted that.