Draco Malfoy:
My father made me go to this dreaded school to 'advance my wizarding skills'. In my opinion, so far it has been a good 5 years wasted. All we learn is simple charms, how to transform a bird into a drinking goblet, and other useless facts such as when the first War of the Witches broke out. I don't see how this is ever going to help me in life, and I'm always trying to convince my father of this, but he refuses to let me leave. So here I am, my 6th year here, rotting away.
I had no interest whatsoever in spending yet another term here at Hogwarts. I didn't want to see what would happen. I didn't want to play with my chances. I didn't want to see who might die. Ever since the beginning of the school year, I had been, in the least of terms, depressed. It was sad that I had to block off my friends, keep myself isolated, sticking to the same monotonous routine. But I had to, or I'd find myself telling them everything.
My decisions have been made for me since I was a child. My father is controlling and ill-tempered, wanting me to be just like him and nothing less than perfection. Originally, I had wanted to get into Gryffindor house. I wanted to become friends with the famous Harry Potter, not the sons of my father's cohorts. But other plans had been arranged. My father told me to get into the Slytherin house or be punished severely, ignore Harry Potter and don't venture too close to him. I bleakly obeyed.
Eventually, my act became part of who I was known to be: A bully. People would look at me in disgust, turning their faces when I walked by. I pretended to be above it, but in reality, it was killing me inside. I've always been good at masking my emotions, which is a contributing factor to my mastering of Occlumency, but lately the pressure on me has been so intense that I can no longer handle it.
I go to the upper corridor boys' lavatory every other day and sob out my sorrows, the sounds of my cries echoing off of the cold stone-flag walls. I have grown quite fond of Moaning Myrtle in the process, for she comforts me when I feel alone. But when she offers me a hand to help me up, my grasp is merely reaching for a vanishing image in the air.
My entire family has consisted mostly of Death Eaters and villains, all of whom have encouraged the next generation to follow in their footsteps. Since the day that I was born, at least one of my relatives was locked up in Azkaban for some terrible crime they'd committed, thinking that they were influential. Seeing my deranged aunt Bellatrix behind bars gave me the chills, to know that I was so closely related to her. I vowed that day that I would never be sent to a place such as that.
Although I reject to doing any sort of kidnappings of torturing with the Death Eaters, I still unwillingly obey their commands. At the start of everything, I denied even being affiliated with them, knowing that it would come with severe consequences. The mere thought of allowing such people into the school where my friends were sleeping innocently, unaware they were in grave danger, made me wince. Yet when my family's lives as well as mine came to risk, I couldn't help but give in.
When I was first told what I was to do, I fell into a state of shock. I felt rooted to the spot, as though I should have been killed on the spot to make life easier. Sadly, though, I continued to live on, knowing that I was now the one who was assigned to murder Albus Dumbledore. The odds were extremely improbable, him being the greatest headmaster of Hogwarts anyone had ever seen, and me being a mere 6th year. The task itself was a looming amount of devastation waiting to happen.
Since the day that Katie Bell had been hexed by the necklace I cursed, I could hardly stand myself. It was bad enough that I feebly attempted to kill Dumbledore with a miniscule piece of jewelry, and even worse to know that I hurt an innocent girl instead. I didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore, my arm red where the Dark Mark was branded upon me, my body obviously rejecting it. Yet, despite it all, I had to try again. It was better for Dumbledore to be killed by an anonymous 'accident' rather than me becoming an assassin in history.
I had nothing to distract myself from the inevitable issue. I had paid someone at the beginning of term to take over my position on the quidditch team for most games, thinking it would give me extra time to plan the entire mission. Instead, it gave me excessive amounts of time to worry about how I just couldn't accomplish it.
I had a small opportunity to get a vial of Felix Felisis during potions with Slughorn, but Harry got it instead. That small dose of liquid luck was sure to make all of my endeavors succeed with ease, and that was the one thing I wanted—no, needed – so desperately. I say that Slughorn favors him, that's why he is 'coincidentally' having Harry be the best in the class. Yet neither of them will never understand how vital that potion might have been to me. It could have saved me from a murderous fate.
The school year had already flown by fast, term almost half over. I knew that I couldn't keep putting it off. I had to kill Dumbledore sooner or later, or Voldemort would kill me without a second thought. I heaved a great sigh, placing my hand on the cold window. Looking out the foggy stained glass, I saw the flags of the quidditch pitch waving violently in the icy winds. I missed playing with my team, the rush of flying on a broomstick. Although I enjoy it, I knew I didn't have time to play games.
I sat down on the leather couch in front of the roaring fireplace, placing my feet on top of the arm rest. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Despite how exhausted I was, I just couldn't fall asleep. It felt as though my mind was in one place, my body in another. I wasn't fully aware of the footsteps bustling down the hall until they arrived right in front of the common room entrance. The dungeon door swung open, revealing the wide-eyed faces of none other than Crabbe and Goyle.
"Malfoy," Crabbe gasped, looking at me with a serious expression, "You should come see this."
I looked up at their red faces as they panted heavily. They stared at me frightfully, as if I might explode any second, but I didn't have the slightest clue as to what was going on.
"What could possibly be happening at 12 in the morning?" I asked as I stood up, looking back and forth between the two of them.
"It's Parkinson." Goyle sputtered, "We saw her up in the Astronomy tower, with Blaise."
The second I heard Pansy's name, I knew this wouldn't be good. I had hardly spoken to her at all this year, and even though we never did anything together, we had yet to end our romantic relationship.
"Blaise Zabini?" I scoffed, my eyes narrowing. "Doing what?"
"You better go see for yourself…" Crabbe said timidly.
They both took a step back, which was a wise decision. I pushed them aside and ran out into the dark corridor. My footsteps echoed off the walls as I ascended up the stairs. I tripped over my own feet more than once, practically blind in the unlit halls. I couldn't see it but, after about a minute or so of aimlessly running upwards, I was positive that I had made my way out of the dungeons.
I stepped to the right cautiously, my hand outstretched. It hit something hard, and I felt the engraved patterns on whatever cold metal I was touching. Moving forward, I touched a rather scratchy parchment, and I could only assume it was a portrait. This didn't narrow down where I was, and I was ultimately infuriated. As a final decision, I pulled out my wand, pointing it towards the floor.
"Lumos," I said quietly, the tip of my wand illuminating the walls around me. I raised my arm shakily, careful not to disturb any of the portraits around me. By now, the portraits were used to my light in the middle of the night, for more often than not I snuck out of my dormitory.
I kept alert for any sudden movements or noises, but for quite a while there were none. Gradually, I became wary of what was going on around me. I just had my mind focused on finding out what Crabbe and Goyle had been talking about. Blaise had been one of my closest friends since first year, we told each other just about everything. Towards the end of last year, though, we started to drift apart. I always knew that Blaise had had a thing for Pansy, he knew her even before I did. Despite that, she grew a liking for me instead, which Blaise was instantaneously livid at me for.
"You always have to have everything, don't you, Draco?" Blaise had said harshly, his lip curling in disgust.
"It's not my fault she likes me," I said defensively, "Maybe you should have told her you how you felt sooner. Maybe then she would have changed her mind."
"It wouldn't have changed her mind at all!" Blaise spat, his eyes narrowing, "You stupid prat, you ruin everything."
I glanced down at the floor, trying to disguise my hurt. I knew that an argument with Blaise over Pansy was inevitable, but I didn't expect him to be so crude.
"You're like your dad; Vile, cruel, and unforgivable." Blaise said coldly. My eyes shot up at these words, fury rushing through my veins.
"Don't you dare talk about my father!" I retorted, horrified that he would even hold him against me. He was the one person that I had ever told directly that my father was a Death Eater, and I was only hoping he wouldn't bring it up again.
"He's obviously the reason you turned out like you did; a coward," He muttered in an unregretful tone, adding one last blow to my self-esteem, "A failure."
If there was one thing I didn't enjoy being called, it was a failure. Not because I didn't believe it, but because it was true. I have never succeeded in anything since my start here at Hogwarts. I was always the one who was laughed at and had an accusing finger pointed at them. And it hurt me to now know that my closest friend was just another one of the people who felt the same way.
After that night in 4th year, Blaise and I didn't talk for almost a month. After a few awkward encounters and unavoidable conversations, we both agreed to pretend that that night had never occurred. Ever since, though, we could never really manage to look at each other the same way.
A loud crash seized me out of my thoughts and I found myself on the floor, my temple pulsing with pain. I was dazed for a moment, not sure what had just happened. By the time my thoughts recollected, there was a voice coming from down the hall.
"Who's there?" A low, raspy voiced called, the sound of their footsteps bouncing off the walls. I staggered backwards as I pushed myself up to a standing position, the pain still searing through my forehead. I couldn't quite determine whose voice it was, debating in my mind the different professors I could match it with, until they spoke out once more.
"Student out of bed!" They wheezed, a small 'meow' accompanying their words. My eyes widened as the hand covering my temple lowered slowly, now realizing who my pursuer was.
"Filch…" I breathed, turning on my heels and sprinting down the hall. I desperately flung myself down numerous amounts of corridors, trying to loose Filch along the way. I frantically ran up the staircases, trying to get out of range of the surprisingly fast caretaker, knowing that being caught would mean a lot of explaining. Eventually, I became out of breath, and leaned against a wall. Excluding my heavy panting, a solemn silence had set around me. I finally lost him somewhere behind me.
I glanced at my surroundings to judge my location, only looking into an unsettling darkness.
"Lumos," I whispered once more, my wand still gripped tightly in my hand. As I looked around, I noticed a tall staircase leading up to a large platform, the floor of it illuminated slightly by the starry night sky. I had reached the astronomy tower.
I had been to the astronomy tower more than once this year, usually just to isolate myself in a quiet environment, but it had never been so sudden. Usually when I snuck out, it was planned, my wand at the ready, my mind concentrated on arriving at the astronomy tower alone. Never had I been so close to being caught before, looking beyond the few times I had been in my early years at Hogwarts.
I shakily took a hold of the railing, slowly making my way up to the top. I was avoided making my steps loud; hoping to catch whatever was waiting for me above by surprise. I thought, for a moment, that this was all a big joke. Crabbe and Goyle were known for pulling pranks like these for their own personal amusement and although it wouldn't have made me any happier, it definitely would have been a relief. That thought soon came to end though, as I reached the last step, Blaise and Pansy turning their heads towards me simultaneously.
Pansy's arm fell from Blaise's shoulder, her mouth opening wide, trying to find the right words to say. Her eyes darted between Blaise and I, clearly expecting no would interrupt them.
"Draco…" She managed to say at last, her tone filled with emotion yet her expression as blank as stone.
"So this is what I get?" I said, swallowing hard. I couldn't let her see me show any signs of grief. I'd seem weak, especially since she didn't even seem to regret what she was doing to me.
"We were going to tell you earlier—" She started, but I cut her off coldly.
"How would telling me earlier have helped anything?"
She turned to Blaise for help, but he was looking down at his shoes awkwardly. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at him, which got his attention immediately.
"I trusted you…" I hissed as I closed the distance between us. My fists tightened and my voice cracked from restraining any tears. "I told you everything…"
I now had Blaise against the wall, his eyes closed, awaiting what I would do next. And I was going to do something, but I heard footsteps. I turned around to face the staircase, expecting to see a teacher, but it was merely Pansy walking up the stairs as a decoy. When I turned back to see where Blaise was before, he had vanished. I spun around once more to see that the place where they had stood previously was empty. I reacted speedily, dashing down the stairs.
When I reached the bottom, I could barely hear their mocking laughter as they sprinted down the corridor, an unsettling silence following the sound of a door creaking closed. I ran my hand through my hair, one of the many habits I developed to do whenever I felt dejected, such as now. I don't know why I agreed to date Pansy, maybe it was just because she was the closest girl friend that I had, but I could only guess that we wouldn't be so close after this.
I walked slowly down the desolate, dark hallways. The thought of getting caught after curfew didn't seem nearly half as bad as it did before what happened in the tower. I didn't want to go back to the common room, I didn't want to see either of their faces, but I had no place else to go.
Just as I was about to round the corner to go down my last flight of stairs, I heard a faint noise. The sound of someone crying. I took a few steps backwards and it got louder. I kept stepping back until I hit a wall, which was right next to the girl's lavatory entrance. Someone in there was clearly sobbing, definitely not Pansy, but a girl around the same age. I put my ear against the door, debating whether or not to go in and see who it was, but I shook my head, thinking better of it.
I turned the corner and descended down the stairs, suddenly stopping in my tracks. The girl's crying was so soft now it was barely audible, yet I could still sense the devastation it carried. I turned my head, taking a quick look at the door, and then stared down at the cold stone floor in front of me. Even if I did go and try to console her, I wouldn't do a very good job at it. I've never really been the most comforting person.
I sighed and entered back into the common room. The fire had gone out, Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. I went up to the dormitories and flung myself onto my bed, not caring to see if Blaise was still awake. My eyes closed immediately, and I tried to convince my conscience that what had just happened was real. But my mind was fighting against realizing the truth. I struggled and struggled, eventually giving up. Sometimes believing in a lie is easier than facing reality.
(a/n) I was going to wait a while until I posted the second chapter, but I honestly couldn't help myself. I've already written it in advance and the urge to publish was overwhelming. I'm also really anxious because no one seems to be reviewing the first chapter. Don't be afraid of telling me what I did wrong. After all I'm simply an amateur writer who needs help to prosper. So that's it, I guess. Review please!