"You understand the importance of this task, do you not?"
Draco Malfoy nodded once, his pale eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight.
"Yes, father."
Lucius Malfoy surveyed him critically, his own pale eyes narrowed. "If you succeed in this, you will bring great honor upon our family. The Dark Lord has gifted you with this opportunity. You will not fail."
Draco swelled with pride, one hand gently brushing against the pale arm on which the black Dark Mark had been burned. "I will show Him that I am worthy, father."
"Your aunt has been preparing you most thoroughly, I hear."
Draco flinched, remembering the hours his aunt Bellatrix had spent training him. Her form of teaching seemed to mostly consist of throwing dark hexes and Unforgivable Curses at him until he was weak and exhausted, wracked with pain and delirium. But he much preferred that to the mental training he received, where Bellatrix ripped through his mind, tearing it to shreds while teaching him Occulmency.
"Yes, she has," he replied dully.
Lucius allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "You will not fail," he said again.
"I will not fail," Draco repeated, determination etched on his proud, cold face.
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He had failed. Draco slammed a fist into the stone wall, fury coursing through him. Everything had begun as planned. Madam Rosmerta, the lusty barmaid down at The Three Broomsticks, was ridiculously easy to Imperius. She had taken the cursed necklace and given it to Katie Bell, with strict instructions to deliver it to Albus Dumbledore and to not let it come in contact with her skin. Bell had then been Oblivated from remembering who had given her the necklace., and she had made her way in a daze back to her friend, insisting they needed to leave. With a bemused glance, her friend had agreed, and the two had stepped out from the warm confines of the pub into the frigid October air.
That's when the plan took a wrong turn to hell.
Apparently the stupid girl had a hole in her glove, and the cursed necklace had brushed against her bare palm. Draco had watched as she was lifted into the air, arms outstretched, before falling to the snowy ground like a sad, broken puppet. To make matters worse, bloody Harry Potter and his motley sidekicks had witnessed the whole event, summoning help before Draco could get the necklace back. And, just as a final heaping of failure, Potter had turned accusing emerald eyes toward blundering oaf, Hagrid, who showed up to help and had declared in a loud, firm voice for all to hear, "It was Malfoy." Luckily, McGonagall was unable to prove he had any involvement in the botched assassination attempt, and Draco was able to slink back to Hogwarts as Potter was, yet again, hailed as a hero.
Dismayed at the failure of his first plan, he had made his way back to the Room of Requirement, where his most prized possession was hidden.
He sighed as he ran a hand down the side of the Vanishing Cabinet. Fixing this would be his crowning achievement, the means to restoring his family's reputation with the Dark Lord. His plan was so simple it was almost ridiculous. His Cabinet had a mate, another one just like it in Knockturn Alley. All Draco had to do was repair the thing, and he would be able to transfer Death Eaters from Knockturn Alley right into Hogwarts. He smirked, imagining the panic and chaos that would be caused as the Dark Lord's most ardent followers rampaged through the sacred hallowed halls, purging the school of the filth that were Mudbloods.
His smirk slipped into a dark scowl, though, as he surveyed the Vanishing Cabinet. Fixing it sounded so easy, and yet it was proving to be far more difficult. He had been working on it for close to a month now and still hadn't made any noticeable progress. He sighed in frustration. The Dark Lord had welcomed him into his ranks early into the summer, branding his smooth forearm with his Mark. His very first order to Draco had been to entrust him with a most important mission: to kill Albus Dumbledore. To do so would repair his family's tarnished reputation in the eyes of the Dark Lord, a reputation that had become all the more stained with his father's failure at the Ministry last August. Potter and his wretched pals had cost the Malfoy family deeply, and here was Draco's chance to avenge his surname and gain his family honor and favor. The only problem was, much like repairing the Vanishing Cabinet, killing Albus Dumbledore was infinitely easier said than done. And if Draco failed, it would be his own life that was forfeit.
Well, at least he still had the lovely Miss Rosmerta under his command. She had proven useful so far, and he had an inkling of an idea that could use her. Perhaps…poisoned mead sent to Dumbledore? Maybe as a Christmas present…from Professor Slughorn? He smirked. Clean and untraceable back to him. It just might work.
With that thought in mind, he returned to his work on the Cabinet with a renewed fervor, visions of power and fortune dancing in his mind.
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Hermione Granger was an incredibly intelligent girl. She understood that her greatest asset was her mind, and she took pride in honing it to a keen edge. She was observant and logical, which was quite the opposite of Harry and Ron's reckless abandon. Her logic was what allowed her calm and pacify the boys when they were ranting and fussing about something utterly preposterous. And usually Hermione was right, and was able to turn the other two to her point of view. However, tonight as she listened to Harry angrily voice his opinions about a certain pale-haired Slytherin boy, she was forced to admit he made some valid points.
"I mean, come on," Harry snarled, his emerald eyes flashing behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "We know for a fact he got the Dark Mark this summer. We saw as much when we ran into him at Madam Malkins' before school started. And you can't tell me he hasn't been acting shifty lately."
Ron agreed, taking a huge bite of potatoes. " 'E has, 'Arry. Bloody right you are. Damn ferret."
"But Harry," Hermione said, amber eyes thoughtful. "Why would he want to curse Katie Bell, of all people?"
Harry shrugged, brushing a lock of shaggy black hair out of his face. "Maybe it was meant for someone else."
Hermione hummed deep in her throat, her brow furrowed as she glanced over the sea of black robes to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy sat, picking at his plate. His cheekbones stood out in stark prominence, his silver eyes shadowed. His shoulders were tense. She noted the dark circles under his eyes and the shaggy blonde hair that used to be sleek and smooth. Malfoy looked…distracted.
"Hermione?"
She jerked her attention back to Harry. "Oh, yes?"
He frowned at her. "I asked if you would keep an eye on him. You know, since you're a prefect and all…and more subtle than Ron."
"Oi!" Ron grumbled, his own Prefect badge glinting under the light of the hundreds of candles floating above the tables. "But he's right, 'Mione. You're better at that kind of thing than I am."
Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think you two are right. He has been acting rather oddly lately."
Harry smiled at her, and she smiled back before turning her attention to her dinner, her mind churning.
She would definitely be watching Draco Malfoy very carefully.
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Hermione revised her prefect schedule and spent days patrolling the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was located. She rarely saw Malfoy, however. After dinner was over, he very rarely was amongst the throng of students meandering back to their common rooms for the night. Which left the very important question of: Where was he going?
Hermione sighed, scanning the crowd of students leaving the Great Hall. Much like the last week and a half, Malfoy was not among them. She couldn't understand how he disappeared so frequently, and for so long. He couldn't be leaving the castle, and she checked the library, Owlery, Quidditch pitch, and kitchens. He was nowhere to be found.
She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she once again lost the Slytherin prince. She finished her Prefect rounds and made her way back up to the Gryffindor tower. But as she turned the corner into the seventh floor corridor, she caught a flash of pale blonde. Could it be…?
She crept forward as quietly as possible, feeling a jolt of triumph as she recognized Malfoy. He seemed uneasy, glancing over his shoulder as he paced back and forth in front of a blank wall. Hermione sighed in exasperation. Of course. The Room of Requirement. Why hadn't she considered that he might be hiding out there?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind before a plain wooden door suddenly appeared in the wall. Malfoy looked behind him once more before slipping through the door, which began to fade. Making a split-second decision, Hermione rushed forward, grabbing the handle before it disappeared. With a yank, she pulled the door open, entering the Room. She quietly pulled the door closed behind her, looking around.
The Room was dim and filled with heaps of clutter. Random items were piled everywhere, some piles reaching all the way up to the ceiling. Hermione made her way through the Room until she came upon Malfoy. He had his back to her and was staring at what looked like a large wardrobe. She narrowed her eyes. What was he doing?
Malfoy drew his wand a conjured and brightly colored canary. The little bird chirped merrily as it perched on Malfoy's pale fingers. Malfoy stroked its feathers for a moment before opening the wardrobe, which Hermione now realized was a very large cabinet. He set the little bird on the top shelf of the cabinet and closed the door. Closing his eyes, he tapped the cabinet with his wand and murmured something lowly, too quiet for Hermione to hear. Curious, she crept a bit closer. Malfoy opened his eyes and took a deep breath before pulling the door open again. Hermione clasped her hands over her mouth the stifle her gasp.
The little canary lay on the shelf, clearly dead. Malfoy cursed and ran a hand through his pale hair in agitation. Hermione backed away, her mind whirling. Without warning, her foot knocked into a small skate. She tripped, falling backwards into one of the huge piles, which shuddered ominously before crashing to the floor. Malfoy spun around, wand drawn. His grey eyes darkened with anger when he saw Hermione.
"What are you doing here?" he snarled, ugly red blotches forming on his pale cheekbones. Hermione stood up slowly, wincing as she rubbed the tender spot on her lower back where she fell.
"I'm a Prefect, Malfoy, and you're out past curfew," she said haughtily, clutching her own wand.
Malfoy advanced on her slowly, like a predator stalking his prey. "Do you know what you just did, mudblood?"
Hermione narrowed her amber eyes, anger coursing through her. "I think I just caught you doing something you most certainly shouldn't be doing. What is that thing, anyway?" She pushed past Malfoy and stared at the cabinet.
"You just couldn't mind your own business, could you, Granger? You just had to stick your filthy little nose where it didn't belong."
Hermione tore her gaze away from the cabinet and turned to face Malfoy.
"Professor Dumbledore will be very interested in this, I think."
Malfoy smirked, raising a brow. "What makes you think I'll let you leave?"
Hermione frowned. "You can't stop me."
Malfoy chuckled, stepping toward her in one fluid, graceful motion. "Wouldn't it be such a shame if you were to just…vanish?"
Unease prickled on the back of Hermione's neck as she took a step back. Malfoy had a dangerous glint in his eyes, and Hermione didn't doubt he would hurt her. She drew her own wand, pointing it at his chest.
"Back off, Malfoy."
He stepped closer. "Too bad, Granger. Won't Potter be sad when you're gone? Do you reckon he'll cry?"
"Last chance, Malfoy. Back off."
Malfoy shook his head slowly. "Too late, mudblood." Without warning, he reached forward and shoved Hermione. She gasped, flailing as she fell backward a second time, this time into the cabinet. Malfoy sneered down at her, malicious glee filling his face. He pointed his wand at her.
"Harmonia Nectere Passus!"
Thinking fast, she reached out and snagged his ankle, pulling him forward on top of her. There was a flash of bright blue light and then she felt as though she were being squeezed through a tube. Panic engulfed her and pain lit up her nerve endings. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, the sensation of falling overwhelming her before darkness hit.