Year 6 at Hogwarts and there have been some major changes. Voices in their heads. Memories missing. And a Dumbledore that wasn't so great after all. The forces of the dark are closing in and they need the help of an ancient group to win this war. From the Slytherin perspective.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter One: "Test my reality"
Sunday, September 1, 1996.
~At Malfoy Manor~
"STUPID, PURE-BLOOD SUPREMACY MINDED FAMILY!", he yelled out once he was in the comfort of his room.
He had hastily cast a Silencing Charm beforehand and was now free to curse his relatives behind their backs. He paced back and forth angrily wondering how he got himself in that mess. Not finding a good enough answer after thinking for a while, he cast the Exploding Charm on nearly everything in his sight, using it as a way to release his pent up anger and confusion.
Draco Lucius Malfoy had a piss poor day training with the other young Death Eaters and a certain beast, hoping that when he came home, he'd be able to relax. But he really should've known better. As soon as he entered his home, he was engulfed in conversation regarding the punishment of those who were captured and sent to Azkaban.
'Why didn't I take the side entrance?', he groaned in his thoughts when he heard them.
He could have just turned and exited the house, waiting this out. But NOOOOOO! The Dark Lord had to see him and decide to ask him of all people what punishment they deserved. When he took too long to respond, Rodolphus Lestrange said some disrespectful things about his father and Bellatrix Druella Lestrange nee Black exclaimed that he was thinking of lenient punishment for Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Oh! How he wanted to curse them there and then! But a hand on his shoulder prevented him. Rather, a scaly hand.
'The fu-?', he thought for a split second.
His white-hot anger was the cause of him shrugging off his master's hand and sneering at him. He then realized his mistake and watched with horror as his Lord's empty wand hand twitched. A violent nonverbal, wandless Crucio raked through his body and throwing him on the ground, having him slip in and out of consciousness for a whole minute. His mother begged on his behalf and had a house elf escort him upstairs before he told it he could get to his room on his own. Didn't stop it from following him though.
Draco paused his destructive spell casting and sour moment of remembrance when an old watch on the floor caught his eye. "Bellatrix's", he snarled out loud. His mother had chosen to give it to him two years ago and a new wave of fury hit him as he glared at it. He pointed his wand at the object, "Bombarda!" He watched with mild pleasure as it shattered, before throwing his wand across the room in frustration. His familiar screeched as the wand almost hit him, to which Malfoy snappily responded with "Shut up!" Draco marched over to his bed and dived into the pillows before letting out a series of screams, kicking his legs about and hitting the bed with his fist. He then paused a moment when he heard a familiar sort of sound. He lifted up his head, looking towards Oblem, his short-eared owl. The bloody owl was there, screeching its birdy laugh at him.
'How dare that-!'
The glare he sent Oblem would've earned him an approving look from his father, but now wasn't the time to think about the man that messed up his life.
"Ooooh! You find my tantrum sooo amusing?!" Draco grabbed a pillow. "Well, tell me if this is amusing!", as he chucked the pillow at his owl. Oblem ducked its head and the pillow missed. He let out a sound resembling a 'hmph!' and flew from its unharmed perched to Draco. His owner had resumed screaming into the pillows, and honestly, it was annoying. If owls could roll their eyes, then Oblem certainly did. A hoot for his owner's attention and Draco tilted his head to look up at the bird. The owl stared at him expectantly, receiving a frustrated yell from his owner.
"Oh! The nerve of those-! Those-! Urgh! Them! I sooo badly wanted to curse the ears off that Greyback!" He hissed out the name with so much venom that even Salazar Slytherin's basilisk would be proud. Oblem flinched at this and Malfoy continued to rant. "And my parents! Bellatrix better be glad she's my aunt because I wanted to hex her into last week! And Rodolphus! That arse of a husband! He had the nerve to dare call my father an embarrassment to the family! I know my father dragged our family into this, but the things he said were just downright awful! Ever since he's been promoted to a high ranked Death Eater because of the failure of others at the Department of Mysteries, he thinks he can go around insulting my father as he pleases! The arrogance of him!"
Oblem gave him a look. The pot was calling the kettle black. He ignored Oblem in favour of continuing.
"WELL, IF MY FATHER IS AN EMBARRASSMENT! Then-! Then-! THEN HIS FACE IS AN EMBARRASSMENT!"
Draco wanted to slap himself...
'And the best insult of the year goes toooo... DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!'
Draco glared at Oblem, knowing very well that the bird thought that, and intended for him to hear. Oblem looked at him innocently, even blinking his eyes, and Draco scoffed. "Don't try to pretend that you're innocent, you guilty little thing."
Oblem was one of those rare, magically bred owls that could mentally talk, allowing the owls to have telepathic communication with their owners and whomever their owner permitted them to talk to. Not that Draco allowed him to talk to people anymore. Once, Oblem told a pure-blood girl, back when he was eight-years-old, that he loved her and wanted to marry-
He felt sad for a moment, thinking about her, but knew better than to mope around, thinking of the cruel past.
Anyways, he sure as hell never let Oblem talk to anyone after that. His dignity and pride were at risk with this bird! And he could go on and on about stupid relatives and his annoying bird, but he knew he had to stop. Or else he'd miss the opening of the Floo that lead directly to the fireplace in front of the Hogwarts Express. Not to mention the fact that his mother would-
A knock on his door caught his attention, and he immediately summoned his wand, catching it, and pointed it at the door. He sat up on his bed, immediately casting a Protego around both him and Oblem. He glared at the door, an Unforgivable on his tongue to cast on the individual behind the door.
'Whosoever it is better be ready to be cursed into oblivion.'
"Come in.", he said as he cautiously watched the door open. He sighed in relief when his mother's head popped in before she put her whole body into the room. She closed the door behind her and walked towards him before stopping a few feet from his bed. The two had a stare-off, faces blank of emotions, then Narcissa Oleander Malfoy nee Black gave a sad smile. "Oh, come here.", she said as she spread her arms for him. Without a moment to spare, he leaped off his bed and launched himself into her arms. She wrapped her arms around tightly around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Draco inhaled her rosemary scent and sighed once more, his anger slowly going away.
'Greater is no feeling than being in a mother's arms.', a quote by a certain Italian fellow.
Yes, Blaise was right indeed. The feeling of being utterly and completely wrapped in your mother's embrace was absolutely wonderful. Draco had no doubt in his mind that he was safe as long as he was in this embrace of love. In the Wizarding World, a mother's love was extremely powerful. It could even be magically converted into powerful spells and complicated guards to ensure her child's safety. He had a theory that it happened with Saint Potter and his mother on that 'fateful day', but could never prove it. It was kind of hard to do so if you weren't present to see it happen.
He gazed at his mother with gratitude for all she had done for him. It's not easy dealing with a spoilt, stubborn, self-centered brat such as he. It was also a wonder he turn out like his father. He resisted the urge to frown at that thought, remembering the birds that resembled their owner. 'The bloody peacocks!'
"I was only downstairs for a few minutes.", she teased to which he quipped, "That was a few minutes too long..." He knew she heard his muffled reply and couldn't help but give him a kiss on the forehead. They stayed like this for a while before they let go. Narcissa stared into the now calm grey eyes of her son; the conflict in her own was clearly visible and he sighed.
"Stop regretting it."
Narcissa seemed a bit taken back by this and she looked away, feeling guilty for what he had been forced to bare and to do. She witnessed her son being given the Dark Mark, his screams of pain echoing in her mind as she remembered how terrified he was when taking the mark. She didn't even realize she was crying until she felt a finger gently brush away the tears. He stared at her with worried eyes and she looked away. "It's my fault you bare the Dar-", she began, but he interrupted her.
"No. It's not your fault father damned us all. It's not your fault that he got himself thrown in Azkaban. It's not your fault that the Dark Lord chose me to replace him. It's not your fault that I love you. And it's definitely not your fault that I am willing to destroy my future by taking the Dark Mark and become a Young Death Eater to save your life!", he said firmly.
"Draco..."
"No! If I lost you, I'd go mad!", he shouted in anger. His shoulder slumped as he whispered the second part. "Or worse, try to go with you through the veil."
"Draco!", she rebuked but he didn't listen. "Or probably get myself killed trying to murder that scaly man.", he said with a dark and dry chuckle. In a wave of panic, Narcissa placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a hard shake to bring him back to sane reality. She watched the dark clouds that had gathered in his eyes slowly disappeared and he looked down in shame.
"I-"
"Couldn't control it. That is not your fault."
His eyes snapped to hers because he knew she was right. Ever since he had taken the Dark Mark, been trained to do the evilest of Dark Arts along with the others, and been taught Occlumecy by his deranged aunt; he felt a sinister feeling slowly consume him. And it grew stronger every day; especially during his summer spent with Death Eaters and a certain pure-blood supremacy minded madman. It would consume him sometimes and everyone knew it. A few assumed he was becoming mad like Bellatrix, and Draco thought so too. He wished his mother would be there with him at Hogwarts to bring him back. He didn't want to go dark like he did for all of July when she was sent to the other side of England, away from Wiltshire, on errands for The Dark Lord. That was an awful month, trapped in his own body, being the object of his Lord's favouritism just for that moment. Even Bellatrix favouritised him that month, calling him 'Drakey' alot.
But that wasn't his biggest problem.
He wanted to kill.
But he couldn't. He was much too afraid of taking a life. One, because it would mean that he was just as horrible as Voldemort. And two, because he didn't want to end up with split souls like his Dark Lord. And even with knowing he could never kill, the nagging feeling was there, waiting to be entertained. It's not like he would, but alas...
'It is my reality.'
Wanting to be distracted from this, he glanced at his large trunk and tsked. "That's going to be heavy to carry." The little humor in his voice was to lighten the mood and it worked, somewhat. Narcissa engulfed him in a hug once more before snapping her fingers to summon a random house elf.
"Now let's get you to Platform 9 and 3/4."