The Death of Draco Malfoy
Summary: Hermione Granger Weasley is asked to give an account on the missing details of the life of Draco Malfoy ten years after his death.
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. IT ALL BELONGS TO J.K.ROWLING.
A/N… the events of all of J.K.Rowlings books have not been changed, at least to my knowledge, although I did add a little bit. I know there are some flaws but this is my take on it. I hope you like it. This is only the first chapter. There's a lot more to come, hopefully, if you guys like it. If not I'll make it a two chapter fic. Enjoy and review!
- - - Mrs. Weasley, did you know Draco Malfoy?- - - -
Draco Malfoy? Yes, I knew him. I'd like to say I knew him well but Draco wasn't the type of fellow who let people get that close. It never mattered how much time we spent together or how many times I'd tell him how I felt. It was like talking to a brick wall. All that mattered to Draco Malfoy was himself. Never get attached, never give yourself away. That was his mantra.
- - - What do you mean? - - -
Damn prick had the world at his feet and he took every opportunity he had to step all over it. And so long as he didn't care, then he never got hurt.
- - - So you knew him… how? - - - - -
How did I know him? Oh right. You probably are a bit confused on that side of the story. Well yes, we were enemies in Hogwarts…at least that's how we appeared to the outside world. There were reasons for that, you know. I was a muggleborn Gryffindor, the best friend and right hand man to Harry Potter, and a known activist against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Malfoy was from a long line of Pureblood wizards, Slytherin, enemy of The-Boy-Who-Lived, and in line to receive the Dark Mark once he was of age. The world was against us.
But there was something in him that told me none of that was what he had wanted. He had good in him; he was just a little corrupted. I don't blame him really. Brainwashing is very difficult to reverse, nigh impossible.
I'd have to say I was quite proud of him for even being able to admit his dislike towards his planned future. The boy had been so well disciplined in the Dark Arts you'd have thought it was in his blood.
But it turns out blood doesn't determine everything. In fact, Draco proved it determines nothing.
I'm sorry but before I go further, I need to know what kind of piece it is that you are writing. I won't have this all be placed in a book speaking ill of Draco. Ten years have passed and I have no problem now telling the truth about what he and I shared, so long as I know it's not being put to improper use.
- - - It's a piece celebrating the life of Draco Malfoy. We're trying to shed some light on the inner working of his mind and show that he wasn't just a pureblood elitist who feigned innocence after the war. We were given information that implied YOU might be the source to go to for answers. - - -
Yes, I figured as much. Well if it's dirt you're looking for, you've come to the right place because I happen to be the one and only living person who knows the whole story. Like I said, I don't want Draco portrayed in poor light and nothing I say should ever be interpreted as such. The man was and still is a legend and I'd very much like to allow the world to understand him better.
When I met Draco, his father had him so well trained to be rude, aristocratic, chauvinistic, prejudice, hateful, and elitist. Draco really did believe that pureblood meant true power and anyone with even a trace of poor lineage was tainted, unworthy of magic. I proved him wrong the minute we stepped into Hogwarts.
You must understand that Draco really felt there was no way a muggleborn could ever even have the brains to compete at such a great institution. And it was because his father had drilled this into his head so meticulously that I was able to convert Draco.
I was the head of our class; the prophet claimed me to be the brightest witch EVER to attend Hogwarts, possibly even Durmstrang and Beaubaxtons as well. I didn't heed any attention to that rubbish since typically, the prophet always twists things into lies. Although this piece written may have been a great compliment, I didn't let it get to me. I stayed focused on my studies and continued to further advance my magic to the best of my abilities (which happened to be better than the best of Draco's abilities.)
It was one day during fifth year that he had gotten on my last nerve. Enough of all the insults and threats, I decided. So I challenged the man to a duel. "Forbidden Forest," I told him. "Be there at midnight and bring a casket."
I was ready to kill him. Regardless of whether or not there was good in the kid, I hated him with every fiber of my being at that point.
Of course it fared better for me than expected. You see, I never intended on him going alone, as I did. I didn't want to bother Harry and Ron since they would have tried to quite literally kill Draco. They had no way of holding back their tempers. Instead I told Ginny that if I wasn't back by two, get a Professor. She offered to come but I didn't want her to be put in harms way.
So I had assumed his lackeys would come since he did appear to be a coward. I was wrong. He came alone. I was so shocked that I couldn't speak at first as I watched him walk towards me like he owned me. His eyes bore into mine as if he could read my mind.
I fumbled backwards towards a tree. When my back hit against it, I let out a little yelp. Draco was mere inches from my face. "Now how is it that a frightened little mudblood like yourself has never gotten anything lower than a hundred percent on an exam? Hm? How is it that you possess such amazing power and yet you have not even a drop of magic in your blood?" he asked me calmly, one hand coming to rest beside my head so that he was leaning in close to me.
"Blood doesn't equal power, Malfoy," I huffed back, mustering what little bit of bravado I could. "I would have thought you'd learned that by now."
"I guess I can be a bit thick at times," he murmured against the shell of my ear, "but all I know is that there is NOTHING about you I don't envy and it's driving me bonkers. Your perfection, your poise, your beauty. And I keep looking at you thinking how wrong these thoughts are to have but I can't stop them from flooding my imagination with all of the things I would like to do to you to knock you off your high horse." He was sneering at me then.
"Well I guess that makes us even, because I have those thoughts about you as well. I want you to comprehend how it feels to be treated as lower than dirt. I want to hurt you, Malfoy."
He reached his hand down to grab my wand hand. His fingers wrapped around my wrist and brought it up so that my wand was at the perfect level to his throat. "What's stopping you then, mudblood?" he asked.
I left my wand there and didn't do anything. I couldn't think, I couldn't react. And then I felt his teeth tugging at my ear and his hand slipping around my waste. This was it, we were finally doing SOMETHING to ease the tension between us. But he still called me mudblood. He still hadn't changed.
I have to admit that at the moment, I didn't care. When Draco Malfoy put his hand on your waist, there's no option to remove it. There's simply no desire to either. Draco Malfoy was like a drug to women.
Every woman wanted him, few could have him, and those that did never had him long enough to call him theirs.
I knew I was getting into something bad though. It was in the tugging at my ear and the firm grip around my hip. I could not refuse but I knew I'd pay for this night in the morning.
To neglect this next part of the story would be a crime on my part because you see, it was through this that Draco and I bonded. No matter the amount of time I had been with him for, this was the only way he ever shared his heart with me.
His lips moved from my ear and trailed along my jaw line before coming to rest directly over my own. "You know, Granger, I think I like dueling with you. I think I'm winning." And with that, his lips crashed down on my own like hell hath no fury. The kiss burned down to my very core and I'll never let that memory fade. He possessed me in that kiss, and it was then that I knew so long as he'd have me, I'd be by his side.
- - - I'm sorry to laugh, Ms. Weasley, but isn't that a bit dramatic for just a kiss?- - -
Clearly you've never been kissed by Draco Malfoy. The man was the Greek God of Love in the body of a mortal wizard. He had charm, passion, experience. Everything a good lover needs.
When Draco took me in his arms, he held me as though I were precious. Perhaps he thought I was glass. Every caress, every teasing touch was enough to make me moan. When he released my lips, it was only to attach himself to the small of my neck, where it met with my shoulder.
He alternated between suckling and nipping there and I swear he knew it was torture for me. I could feel the boy's smirk against my flesh but I dared not protest.
- - -That seems a little strange for such a strong willed woman as yourself.- - -
You don't seem to be understanding me clearly. When Draco Malfoy said he wanted you, and you were single, you couldn't refuse. Literally. I assure you, your body would not allow you to. Treacherous things, our bodies are. They only seem to care about their own pleasure. They never take our feelings into account.
- - - So you're saying you were powerless against him? - - -
In a sense, yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. The man had more power in his words and his actions than I ever did in my wand. I'd love to say that I had the same effect on him, but that'd be an outright speculation. He never let his guard slip. He never showed any waver or hesitation. It was as if he could predict everything I was going to do, and he was prepared.
When he took me that night, I fell apart, because that was the effect Draco Malfoy had on girls. And he had it on me.
We dueled many nights after that for the rest of the year. I believe he was enchanted by me and I suspect that he cared for me deeply by the time school let out – but he never verbalized any of this to me.
He did, however, risk getting caught by sending me owls over the summer holiday. His notes were always pointless and insulting. They were all addressed to 'Mudblood' and always ended with, 'Until our next duel, my pet.'
I knew then that he was still under his father's thumb, but how to break the hold Lucius had over Draco, that was my dilemma. I knew, given enough time, I could do it. I just had to play my cards right.
Sixth year came, though, and Draco had very little time to duel. He was sneaking around a lot and it had me going nutters. Did he not want to see me anymore?
I picked a fight with him one day, when I ran into him in the corridor between classes. No one else was around.
"Rushing off to do your Lord's business, are you?" I asked with a sneer so seething as to match his own. "Too busy to take time out of your busy schedule to duel with the mudblood?"
He looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. Then he grabbed my shoulders roughly and pushed me into the nearest wall. "Do you ENJOY being fucked like a whore by your worst enemy?" he shouted at me.
I shivered in fear with the look that graced his face. It was damn near terrifying. "At least that's when you pay attention to me," I said in a voice barely above that of a whisper.
His grip loosened on my shoulders and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "You're twisted, mudblood, you know that?"
My face turned red and my "dirty" blood began to boil. "How dare you! I finally get the nerve to say SOMETHING, ANYTHING, and I get insulted? What in the bleeding hell is wrong with you? You can't lead a girl on like you've been doing, Malfoy. Sending notes, regardless of the words written on them, means something. Until our next duel MEANS something. And then we get here, and for the past three months you've been acting as though I don't exist. You've got Harry following you around, as if he thinks you're going to be breaking the Dark Lord himself into Hogwarts, you're skipping classes every now and again, enough space in between them so there are no questions and I doubt anyone else has noticed but me, and you hardly ever eat because you always look so nervous. What's going on, Malfoy? What has you running around scared?"
He backed away from me as if I had just stuck a knife through his stomach. My words hit him like a ton of bricks and he shuddered. After a minute or two, he regained his composure…completely! It was as if I had never said anything. Anyone who cared to walk by would never have known that for nearly two minutes, Draco Malfoy was a ball of nerves.
"Been watching me, have you mudblood?" The man had no shame.
"Why won't you kiss me?"
"Didn't know you cared so much."
"Now you do. Stop being an arse and just kiss me, damnit!" I knew I was being a bit demanding but I longed for that feeling once more. I desperately craved his attention, his touch, his soul melding with mine.
We both missed our next class coincidentally, and I'm not sure you'll care to hear this, but we both also wound up in the Hospital Wing. After he refused to kiss me, I hexed him. We each used several minor curses, but then we each used a few potent ones as well. I had a few broken bones and he had a few gashes. It was the most painful shag I'd ever had.
Madame Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Mediwitch, automatically knew we had been dueling and served us each two detentions where we were to sit in a room with white padded walls, without wands, and survive.
No one to watch us. No one to stop us from killing each other. No one to prevent us from non-magic dueling. I couldn't wait. It was time Draco HAD to spend with me.
After those detentions were up, though, he went back to ignoring me. Whatever it was that he had on his mind really had him preoccupied. He didn't even have time for sex.
The end of sixth year is unnecessary to tell because it's been told before. The only thing I can add to it is Draco's motivation. His family was at stake, the Dark Lord was angry with them. Beings that Draco was so young, he had access to Hogwarts and the Dark Lord knew this. He tried to use Draco and did not care if the young Malfoy was sacrificed along the way.
In order to protect his family, Draco had to find a way to kill Dumbledore. His idea was ingenious, as bad as it may be for me to admit. He managed to break in a good amount of Death Eaters. But it wasn't Draco who killed Dumbledore. It was Snape, and that was by Dumbledore's wishes. But that story is long and complicated.
The point is that Draco could NOT have killed a man. He didn't have that natural born killer instinct.
I confronted Draco right BEFORE the attack. We had quite a row that night. I was almost ready to give up on him. Almost.
I owled him and told him to meet me in our special spot in the Forbidden Forest at eleven, after most kids were in their rooms readying themselves for bed. I wasn't sure he was going to come. I was never sure of anything the man was going to do, but I had the smallest sliver of hope left.
When he came, I released a breathed I didn't know I had been holding. "What's this all about, Granger? I really haven't got time for this and I'm certainly not in the mood to shag. What's this all about?"
He seemed so livid that I had the guts to request his company in the first place. I didn't really care, though. I was through with being his puppet. If he wanted anything to do with me, he was going to have to start proving it.
"Who are you trying to impress by following whatever order the Dark Lord gave you?" I asked bluntly. "Your father, Draco? Is this all about Lucius?"
"You don't understand and you never will… so back off mudblood!"
He turned to leave but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to me. We were only a few inches away and I could feel his breath on my cheek. "Why do you ask about things that don't involve you?" he whispered our harshly against my skin. "Stay out of all this if you know what's good for you, mudblood."
"What are you trying to protect me from that I'm not already involved in?" I asked him. I placed my hands lightly around his hips in case he wanted to push them off. "I'm in this, Malfoy. I'm in this waist deep. Harry Potter's my best friend. Where he goes, I go. It's inevitable. So stop trying to protect me from something you can't."
His eyes darkened in anger and he gripped my upper arms to pull me even closer, if that were possible. "So you crave death and despair, then?" he questioned.
I looked up at him with the bravest face I could muster. "If it's in the cards, then it's something I'm unable to change."
"I thought you didn't believe in silly things like tarot cards and crystal balls and…"
"It's called fate, Malfoy," I interrupted. "Some things are meant to happen. I don't believe in tea leaves because they're too easy to misinterpret. But I do believe in fate, in destiny, and above all, in love."
"Love?"
"Yes, love: the idea that two people can be connected by a bond stronger than any other. It's a beautiful theory."
"Theory? I thought you said you believed in it. Isn't a theory unproved?"
I can't say I understood where his questioning was coming from but since the conversation seemed to calm his anger, I indulged it. "Technically it is defined as a coherent group of general propositions used as principles of explanation for a class of phenomena. That doesn't mean it's considered completely true, but it does have some support to back it up."
His brow furrowed in contemplation. "So if you love someone, what does that mean?"
I moved one hand to touch his cheek gently. "It means you'll do anything to make them happy and keep them safe."
I could feel his grip loosen just a bit on my arms and he sighed. "I can't keep you happy, Granger… but I can keep you safe. I swear on my life that if you leave your room after twelve, you'll be asking for trouble. Go back to Gryffindor Tower. Stay there. Don't sleep. Don't put down your wand. Just sit in bed and wait 'til morning."
With that said, he ran off, most likely hoping I'd take his advice. But I'm not one to run from a fight. And I think that part of him knew that. My guess is he was trying to give me a heads up to warn people but with Draco, you never know.
