exdreamerx
Disclaimer: Now, do you really think I'm JKR and that I would be writing this instead of book seven? Characters and dialogue from Half-Blood Prince used without permission. The only thing I own is this semblance of a plot. Also, this fic is loosely based on Joy Enriquez's "How Can I Not Love You?" which can be found on the Anna and the King soundtrack.
Author's Notes: I'm such a bad author! I WILL finish this story! I will! …Anyway, this is being rewritten for Half-Blood Prince. And I've also decided this story will be told in five parts. Enjoy!
Oh. And SPOILERS ABOUND.
Summary: How do I not miss you when you are gone? The war is over, but with war comes loss. Among these losses includes a love that was never voiced nor shared. DG-chaptered
---
(One) Fall. A Daunting Task
The gentle breeze was picking up, trees' leaves were browning, and the sun was setting earlier. There was no mistaking it—autumn was approaching England at a time when change was of the utmost importance. Change…
Draco Malfoy sat against the large cedar tree beside the Malfoy Manor, thinking.
"Your task is to kill Albus Dumbledore," a shrill, unnaturally high-pitched voice hissed. "Do so successfully, and you shall become my most decorated and dedicated follower."
A young man, cloaked in black paused. Then—
"Yes, my lord. It will be my honor to please you, Dark Lord," a low voice replied.
"Then you are dismissed, Draco," and Lord Voldemort waved his hand, shooing Draco Malfoy away from his chambers. He shut the door behind him and clutched his left forearm.
Inside the chamber, a high-pitched laugh resounded. "He will pay for his father's mistakes…"
'This…can't be that difficult…can it?' Draco thought darkly.
He had just returned from his shopping excursions at Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley with his mother. He had just devised a brilliant plan. The Death Eaters would infiltrate Hogwarts. And the glory would all belong to Draco, and Draco alone. All he had to do was fix the vanishing cabinet. It was all so simple.
Satisfied with his reasoning, Draco lifted himself from where he had been sitting and started towards the Manor. Auntie Bellatrix would be arriving soon, and Draco would begin his Occlumency lessons.
-----
September first arrived, but Draco felt uneasy. His plan for action began today. His future—his fate—all depended on the success of his plan. He tried to rid himself of such cynical thoughts by pushing his way through King's Cross Station, disgusted by the Muggles surrounding the area. He entered Platform 9 ¾ and caught the trace of a subtle, flowery scent. He looked around, mesmerized by the intoxicating smell, but only saw a flash of red disappearing onto the train. He was distracted by two grunts behind him and found Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle staring at him with lopsided grins.
"Hullo," Draco drawled.
Crabbe and Goyle each grunted in response and followed Draco aboard the train. They made their way through the train corridors and found the sixth-year Slytherin compartment. Inside were a bored-looking Blaise Zabini and a disgruntled-looking Pansy Parkinson.
Pansy stood up the second Draco entered. "I waited for you on the platform, Dray!" she shrieked, hands on her hips.
"Sorry, got her a bit late," Draco replied lazily and insincerely. "I'm here now, aren't I?"
Pansy sat back down without saying another word. Draco sighed. It was going to be a long journey to Hogwarts…
-----
"This is for Blaise Zabini," a small, second-year Hufflepuff squeaked, peering her eyes into the compartment.
Blaise took the letter wordlessly, opened the envelope, and read the note. The Hufflepuff girl waited until, seeing no chance for conversation, she quietly exited. Blaise thought aloud, "hmm…Slughorn?"
Draco looked up in surprise. "Slughorn? My father's told me about him. He's a—" but before Draco could complete his sentence, Blaise had already left.
"Pfft," was his only response. Draco looked around the compartment. Crabbe and Goyle had fallen asleep like logs, and Pansy was looking at Draco intently.
"Draco, you've got something in your hair," piped Pansy, and she gently stroked his hair, easing his head onto her lap. Too tired to resist, Draco submitted to the gesture and pretended to sleep.
-----
Blaise returned to the compartment half-an-hour later. He shut the sliding door behind him with increasing difficulty, and Draco thought he saw a flash of white travel up to the luggage compartment above them. He stared at the spot for a while until realization dawned on him. Potter… He felt rage boil through his veins, but he remained cool.
'Well, if Potter wants to eavesdrop…he'll just have to make do with his consequences,' Draco thought. At the moment, however, curiosity got the better of him, and Draco demanded to know why Blaise was invited to some elite luncheon, and why Draco himself wasn't invited. Grudgingly, Draco demanded to know who had been invited.
"…McLaggen from Gryffindor," said Blaise lazily.
"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry," mumbled Draco, whose hair was still being stroked my Pansy, dully.
"—someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw," Blaise continued.
Draco cringed. "Not him, he's a prat!" cried Pansy.
"—and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl," finished Zabini.
Draco suppressed a snort. Longbottom…surely he had nothing admirable,' Draco thought sinisterly, of course Slughorn would want to see precious Potter, it's sickening, really…but Weasley?'
It was true Draco had suffered the curse of the Bat-Bogey Hex from her last June. It had been hell, seeing his pristine face covered with flapping things, and having nothing to retaliate with. Yet Draco hadn't made her life a living hell after her first year. Something about her struck a chord with him. There was just something about her, the way she carried herself. Draco could only imagine what went on during her first year at Hogwarts with the diary and the Chamber. Still, Draco continued insulting her brother, Ron, but his insults against the Weasleys slowly came to cease. Draco always insisted her obsession with Potter was punishment enough, and that horrible valentine she sent to him was scaring enough, but he could never find it in him to taunt or tease her.
Shrugging thoughts of her from his mind, Draco replied, sitting up and pushing Pansy's hand aside, "he invited Longbottom?"
Blaise stared at Draco. "Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," Blaise replied smartly.
"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?" Draco questioned. Blaise shrugged.
Draco's face contorted into a hint of a scowl. "Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted to look at 'the Chosen One,'" Draco sneered, "but that Weasley girl!" Draco was reminded of Bat-Bogey Hex. "What's so special about her?"
Draco heard Pansy pipe up, feeling her eyes watching his figure. "A lot of boys like her. Even you think she's good-looking, Blaise," Pansy explained, nodding in Blaise's direction uncertainly, "and we all know how hard you are to please!"
Hm…jealous, Pansy? Need a little assurance from another male? Thinking she's put me under her spell too?' Draco thought, amused. He always had a knack for reading peoples' expressions. It was with this talent that he uncovered so many dirty secrets—secrets he used to his best advantage, to hurt, to manipulate. But another chord struck Draco. 'So Weasley was the one all the Slytherin Quidditch players were swooning over,' Draco thought, recalling the many talks that occurred in the locker room following Quidditch practices. Draco could never catch the name the boys uttered in their discussions, only snippets of descriptions about her, and how she seemed to charm much of the male-student body.
Blaise paused to debate. He was rather picky, Draco had noted; the only girls (Draco knew of) he thought were beautiful beyond belief were Cho Chang, a seventh-year Ravenclaw, and the Patil twins in sixth-year. He had a complex with "exotic-looking" girls. "I wouldn't touch a filthy blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," Blaise said finally and Pansy looked pleased. Draco sank back, placing his head on Pansy's lap, allowing her to resume the stroking of his hair.
Draco tried recalling an image of Ginny Weasley. She was small and short, probably more than a head shorter than Draco. She had, in Draco's opinion, way too many freckles and annoyingly bright red hair. Having never given her deep thought, Draco couldn't see what was so beautiful about her. Besides, she had too many older brothers to look over her—any boyfriends' nightmares. Not that he was so interested in becoming her next boyfriend.
Instead, Draco concentrated his energy towards Slughorn's awful company. "Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a big senile," Draco mused. "Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard I his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his," explained Draco. Or maybe he heard about his…stay in Azkaban,' he thought dryly. However, Draco continued, "Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or—"
Blaise interrupted, "I wouldn't bank on an invitation. He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he?" Blaise's face contorted into a sinister smile. "I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters."
'The Dark Lord doesn't want you, anyway, idiot,' Draco thought threateningly. He forced out a laugh. "Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher," Draco paused to fake a yawn. "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year," Draco explained quietly. "What's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"
It was true. Draco wasn't planning on going back to Hogwarts, whether or not he carried out his duty (which, of course, he had to do, otherwise…Draco shuddered). He might have been the top Slytherin of his class, but none of that mattered to him anymore. All Draco wanted was amazing glory, not some silly ribbon of excellence.
Pansy stopped stroking Draco's hair, apparently angry. "What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" she demanded.
"Well, you never know. I might have," Draco replied, smirking, "err, moved on to bigger and better things." 'Or, to worse things,' Draco considered darkly. He tried his best to brush this thought aside. However, his reply was met with four dumbfounded and curious stares.
Pansy asked weakly, "do you mean—Him?"
Draco only shrugged. "Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it…" Draco trailed off. "When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't." Draco paused dramatically. "It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown," he finished.
Blaise sputtered. "And you think you'll," he gave Draco a reproachful look, "be able to do something for him? Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"
Draco was annoyed. "I've just said, haven't I?" replied Draco scathingly. "Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," he answered, masking fear from his voice.
It was silent for a few moments, everyone in the compartment taking the information in and processing it. "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on," Draco said instead, trying to relinquish any more talk of this particular conversation. 'After all,' Draco mused to himself, 'we have an unwelcome visitor.'
-----
Draco stood alone in the train's compartment, hand reaching into his black robes, looking as if he was planning something. Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise had already left, and Draco had successfully shooed Pansy away. He knew he heard a grunt from up above earlier, before they all changed into their school robes. Draco was only waiting until all of the train occupants filed out.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he roared, pointing his wand above him. Out spilled a paralyzed Harry Potter, bringing along his Invisibility Cloak. Draco sneered, resentment boiling inside of him.
"I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back. You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter," Draco retorted, staring down at his eavesdropper. "But while I've got you here…" he trailed off, the rage inside of him reaching its full potential.
Draco stamped as hard as he could on Harry's face, no regrets in his mind. "That's from my father. Now let's see," and he pulled the Invisibility Cloak from under Harry and draped it over his paralyzed figure. "I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London. See you around Potter…or not."
Satisfied, Draco shut the sliding door behind him and headed towards the school grounds.
-----
"Dray," Pansy drawled, apparently waiting for Draco to enter the Great hall, holding her hand out for him to hold. "Where were you?" she chided.
"Just taking care of some business," he replied coldly, ignoring her hand.
"Oh," replied Pansy wistfully, and she walked towards the Slytherin table, leaving Draco behind.
Draco followed and glanced over to the Gryffindor table, amused by Ron Weasley's and Hermione Granger's worried faces. It was about time Potter got what was coming to him. Draco's eyes lingered across the table and saw Ginny Weasley laughing with Dean Thomas, her brown eyes lit and her smile wide.
Unconsciously, Draco glowered, an odd feeling of resentment pumping through his veins.
TO BE CONTINUED.
-----
Author's notes: Well, there's chapter one! My old chapter one won't be to scraps though…I think I'll incorporate that into the next chapter, winter. (See? Got the seasons thing going on, eheh.) Anyway, I feel like I used too much of the dialogue from The Slug Club, but I really think it needs to stay so I could add Draco's thoughts to it. Yes, I'm in that bunch that thinks Draco Malfoy is redeemable. Or at the very least, misunderstood. Anyway—
Thank you, thank you for reading. Comments are lovely, constructive criticism is loved, and flames are just…funny. So take your pick, please. v