I'm so glad people liked the first section of Part 3. This one's a bit shorter, but no less interesting. And you can blame Severus for how long it took to get Part 3 out. I tried to write his POV, and my brain died.
To Become A Dark Lord
Part 3: Reveal Your Ambitions (and Deal with the Aftermath)
Section B: Draco and Severus
By: Ceris Malfoy
"I think I'm going to become a Dark Lord."
A strange squealing sort of laughter met this remark, as if it was the most hilarious thing that had ever been heard. Harry glanced up from his (for once) correctly simmering potion with annoyance written all over his face. He looked crossly at Draco Malfoy, the culprit of the squealing-laughter, and demanded, "What?"
Draco pounded his desk, shaking his head and still laughing. They were both in a detention of sorts –they had ruined each other's potion and in a strangely lenient moment that was highly unlikely to ever happen again within the next millennium or so, Snape had let the both of them redo the potion for full marks.
Harry narrowed his eyes, and hissed his annoyance sharply in Parseltongue.
Draco looked up at the sound, still shaking with mirth. "You-" he had to stop as he gasped for breath. "You, a Dark Lord?" He promptly dissolved into laughter again.
Harry huffed indignantly. Honestly, why did no one take him seriously anymore? "And what is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"
Draco wiped tears from his eyes, sending a very rare (almost extinct) grin at the Gryffindor. "You, Potter, are probably one of the worst candidates for a Dark Lord this country has ever seen. You can't even inspire fear in a First Year, let alone an entire continent." Draco turned back to his potion, every now and again chuckling.
Harry snarled, green eyes sparking in fury. He pulled out his wand and aimed carefully.
Draco gasped in pain as the hex struck his hand, leaving a small welt across the thumb. Unbidden, the vial of Runespoore Venom tumbled out of his numb hand and splashed into the cauldron. There was silence for a moment, as Draco looked at the potion, his pale features going even paler. He clutched his hand, and turned to stare in silent horror at Harry, all traces of humor gone from his face. Harry merely smiled beatifically at Draco, cast the shielding charm, and ducked behind his chair –just in case.
Two seconds later, Draco's potion exploded violently, thrusting the unprepared boy straight across the room and into the shelves that covered the south wall. With a series of audible, stomach-churning cracks, Draco Malfoy's spine snapped in six different locations. He died instantly.
Harry kept smiling, even as he watched the boy's lifeless corpse collapse in a strangely contortioned heap on the floor.
Severus Octavius Snape stormed into his office and sank into his chair – a beaten old thing that looked twice as uncomfortable as it really was – hands shaking and head pounding. He couldn't fathom how this had started. Quite frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Two deaths in two days...
He sighed and absentmindedly studied his office. Dank and dark, with cold gray walls and floors that were stained a deeper gray where various potions had been shattered when thrown in assorted fits of resentment/ irritation. The solid oak of his furniture was grainy and worn - in some cases damn near shattered – and... and... what was he going to do?
Severus Snape was beyond worried. Oh, he hid it better than most, surely, but it could still be read in the slight tightening of his lips, the even slighter crease of his brow. He was no fool –two deaths in just as many days did not leave a whole lot to bring comfort to him, especially considering that he appeared to be the only one who noticed what was happening.
What was happening around Potter, as usual.
Potter was always found at the scene of the crime/accident. Potter was always staring with those burning green eyes. And the victims were people Potter had learned to hate. Draco, who had never had Potter's regard, but had always had his ire. Weasley, who had once been Potter's closest friend, but who had shirked that title over countless betrayals. Both dead.
Both dead.
Which meant what for the rest of the countless masses that had supposedly wronged the boy in a myriad of ways? Which meant what for him? He whom had tormented Potter the way he had been tormented by others. He whom had made Potter's every living moment in his presence as painful as possible. He whom Potter hated. He whom had nurtured that hatred into the fiery inferno that it was.
What did it mean for him?
As you can probably tell, the sections with characters I can identify with are usually longer. I dunno why, but maybe because I can get into their heads easier. Snape is currently on my shit list. The man (ever since 7th book) completely throws me for a loop, and it's really hard to try and stay IC with him. (Which I am attempting to do, believe it or not. Except with Harry. I'm deliberately screwing with him.)
Someone asked me if Harry was Dark or Evil. In my view, he's merely Dark, but I'll never go out and actually tell you that in this fic. I want you to decide if he's evil or merely Dark.
