Blank Pages of a Lie
Draco
It's hard to find him when he's not surrounded by the honor-guard of adoring fans and well-wishers. He's the new, big celebrity, even bigger than Precious Perfect Potter who the rumors say the Dark Lord wants to kill personally. Father says Potter's mudblood mother and blood traitor father offended the Dark Lord, and deserve to die. Being merciful, the Dark Lord offered the two fools a chance to live, but of course they didn't take it. The idiots. Resisting his power is pointless. He will win.
But there he is, all alone. He's either an idiot or confident…maybe both, but most Gryffindors don't hang about the hallways leading down into the dungeons where we Slytherins call home. He's leaning against the cool stone, his lip pulled up at one corner in a smirk. His eyes—so much like mine and Mother's—are closed. He takes only little breaths. His long hair—dark like the Family's pedigree—is pulled back in a rich, red ribbon that contrasts vividly with the night-black strands. It's him.
My own face morphs into a sneer. I look down the hall each way, checking for eavesdroppers. There are none. Still feeling confident, I approach him. "Have you thought about my offer?" I ask.
"And which one would that be?" he asks softly instead of answers without bothering to open his eyes. His voice is level, and I can't hear any sort of inflection on it.
"Join Lord Voldemort," I urge. "With your talents, he'll reward you greatly." Though it pains me to say it, he is perhaps the best dueler I've ever seen…outside the Dark Lord of course.
"And what does the Dark Lord have that could possibly interest me?" How can he be so flippant? Foolish Gryffindor!
"Eternity," I answer. He will insure the world never forgets what we are trying to do—the utopia is possible, but first all the riff-raff and the undesirables most be pruned from the tree of life.
"You forget that I've already cheated death, Cousin. Forever does not interest me," he answers, now opening his eyes. They're sharper than I remember them being. He stares right through me, but I can't make myself look away from those memorizing eyes. "Ask yourself instead, 'What has the Dark Lord given me? Did he give me what he promised me?'" How dare he question the Dark Lord! The Dark Lord could make him beg for death, and so much more! He continues, "I ask you now is the reward truly worth the price? I barely know you, but already I worry for you. I beg you to take care. You are more similar to me than anyone—even you—can possibly realize." So he says. I've never tried to take the cowards' way and kill myself. "Be careful, Cousin, or you'll walk down the same path into damnation I did, but unlike me, you will not come back."
Rage is burning in my gut. Though eyes still stare through me, condemning me, judging me. How dare he! He can't possibly begin to understand…the Dark Lord is so much more powerful than any can imagine! Any who do not join him will die. He trusted me with a very important mission, but I haven't the slightest idea how to go about it. The Dark Lord wants the old coot Albus Dumbledore dead. He trusted me to do it! Father's so proud. I can't let him down…the punishment is far worst than anything Dumbledore could do to me.
The eyes light up with a sudden understanding. His lips curl all the way into a smirk. He can't possibly know this, can he? Someone would know if he's a legilimens, wouldn't they? Pettigrew told the Dark Lord about his friends' furry little secrets…an animagus and a legilimens…Those are no easy things to accomplish. "You will lose," he declares.
Oh, so now he's a seer too! Before I can grab my wand and hex him like he so deserves, he snaps his fingers and I can't move. The bastard! Wandless magic! That bastard!
He just walks away towards Gryffindor Tower, his footsteps echoing off the stone. Sirius Black, I promise you this, I don't care what Uncle Regulus will do, I will be the one to finally put you down like the mutt you truly are…even if I have to die to do it!
