Year Six: Harry and the Secret Letters
Chapter Seven: The Evil Side of Judas
Warnings: Please remember that I am trying to keep their interactions as close to the book as possible. (Oh, and since I am tired of Ginny, we are going to pick on Pansy a little instead. Okay? Okay.)
Harry followed closely behind the blond, hidden completely by his Invisibility Cloak and unbeknownst to Draco. The Slytherin entered his compartment at the end of the corridor appearing rather frazzled and annoyed. His Housemates, who had been waiting for him, quickly scurried out of the way to give him a place to sit between the window and Pansy. He let himself fall into the cushions, abandoning the open door in his frustration.
"What's wrong, Draky?" Parkinson asked in her annoying, girly way. Blaise, who sat on the other side between The Boulders and the window, stood to shut the door before any passerby could hear the inevitable sorrows that burdened Malfoy's mind. (1) This gave Harry only an instant to slip inside without touching anyone, step onto Zabini's temporarily vacant seat, and hoist himself into the overhead compartment.
Something white next to Goyle's head caught Draco's eye, but when he looked up at it, nothing was there. He stared at where he thought it had materialized, but shrugged it off as his mind playing tricks on him. "It's my father," he answered as Pansy urged him to lay his head in her lap and Blaise reclaimed his window seat.
"Again?" Zabini asked warily. "What does he want this time?"
The blond sighed, partly in resignation to Pansy's silent invitations and partly due to his constant inability to please the dreaded man. "He wanted me to check out that stupid new teacher," he stated as she began to run her fingers through his hair.
"Frogshead?" she questioned dimwittedly.
"Toadseye!" Blaise corrected. "Did you find him? You were gone for a good hour."
"Yes, well, it takes longer than you think to search up and down this entire bloody train. And when I finally did find him, he was sitting with Gryffindors: Mudblood Granger, her traitorous boyfriend, his slut-of-a-sister, and Saint Potter." (2) Draco was sure that he put enough venom and distain into his words to make them believable, because small groans of disgust filled the compartment.
"I could understand wanting to get in good with the Chosen One and his friends, but the Weasley Girl?" Blaise pointed out.
"A lot of boys like her," said Pansy, watching the others carefully for a reaction. "Even you think she's good-looking, don't you, Blaise? And we all know how difficult you are to please."
"I wouldn't touch a filthy blood-traitor like her no matter what she looked like."
"No matter. It only ascertains that he has poor taste. I don't think he's interested in Death Eaters," Malfoy put in.
"Your father wanted you to scout him for the Dark Lord?" the girl whispered disbelievingly.
"Well, think of it this way," offered Zabini. "Ever since Potter entered the school, not a single DADA teacher has stayed… or survived, in some cases."
Draco shrugged. "What do I care? I may not even be at Hogwarts next year." That's how his father made it sound, at least.
"What do you mean 'not at Hogwarts'?" Pansy asked indignantly, immediately ceasing her petting.
"You never know. I may have—" he smirked to cover his disgust at the idea. Died by the time next year comes around, he thought as the Dark Lord's plans for him ran through his head. He had to remind himself that he was in the company of those loyal to Him before he continued speaking. "—moved on to bigger and better things."
Pansy slowly resumed combing his hair with her fingers as surprise rippled across the others' faces. "You mean… Him?" she guessed warily.
Crouched away in the luggage rack, Harry's heart began to race. This was exactly the kind of evidence he needed in order to convince the other's that Draco was following in his father's footsteps in becoming a Death Eater. Harry shifted slightly so that he could see and hear the blond better.
Malfoy shrugged again. "Mother wants me to finish my education first, but I personally don't see the need." Play along… Play along…, he told himself. "I mean, think about it, when the Dark Lord comes to power, 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… It'll all be about the kind of service he received, the devotion he was shown." It was at times like these that Draco was exceedingly grateful for years of practice covering up certain emotions. Anytime 'devotion' was mentioned, he thought of Lucius; and the fact that his father bowed to another man… It made him sick.
"And you think you'll be able to do something for Him?" Blaise interrupted harshly. "Sixteen-years-old and not even fully qualified yet?"
He rolled his eyes with the irony. "I just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified." Silver eyes were hidden behind lowered lids, and as he thought over the Plans, he grew quieter. "Perhaps the job that he has for me isn't something that you have to be qualified for…"
Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting there with their mouths open like the gargoyles that they were, Pansy was gazing at Draco as if she had never seen something so awe-inspiring before in her life, and even Harry, up in the luggage rack, couldn't take his eyes off of the blond as his interest peaked and he was sure that he was going to find out all of the answers…
"I can see Hogwarts," announced Malfoy, interrupting the silence that he himself had created and pointing out of the dark window. In the distance, faint lights could be seen. The rain had dulled down to a faint drizzle so the beaded droplets on the glass magnified their size and brightness. "We better get our robes on."
Before Harry could completely break out of the dramatic trance, Goyle had already reached up and dragged down his trunk, sufficiently knocking the hidden boy in the head while doing so. He let out a sharp gasp of pain, brain throbbing mercilessly and Draco's attention once again drawn to his invisible form.
Whether visible or not, Draco did not think himself a fool twice in such a short period of time. He heard something. Period. There was someone hiding in that compartment, and he knew of only one person who would be both interested and idiotic enough to do so.
... Potter…
The hatred of being tricked, such as he was, flared up in his chest, and he began to think of nasty ways to punish Harry for betraying his precious Judas.
The train pulled up to the station a few minutes later, and the Slytherins began to exit the compartment, pushing aside a group of Second Years. Pansy turned, holding out her hand, to wait for Malfoy who still lingered inside.
"You go on," he said. "I just want to check something." As soon as she had left, he shut the door behind her and closed all of the blinds. He stood there for a moment as the noise outside died down, and the presence of another became apparent. He could feel Harry's eyes on him. Slipping his wand out of his robe, he tried to piece together a hex that may be appropriate for the situation. Taking the first one he thought of, he spun on his heel and pointed his wand at the luggage rack.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
There was a moment's pause, and then something fell and landed with a crash. And there was Harry Potter, frozen in an awkward, crouching position on the compartment floor. Draco couldn't help but smile at his own cleverness. "I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you; not to mention I saw something white in the air when Blaise got up to close the door," he clarified, justifying his suspicions by eyeing Harry's trainers to let the other know exactly what he meant. "You didn't hear anything that I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here…" Draco stomped hard on Harry's face, breaking his nose and causing blood to start flowing freely. Draco grimaced as it splattered on his shoes and he immediately felt a pang of guilt; not enough for him to take it back, though. "That's from my father." And Judas… he added to himself. Sure, he didn't like his father in the least, but Harry still almost caused the man who raised him to be arrested or killed. He had even more reason to hate the boy than he let on sometimes.
"Now, let's see…" He considered perhaps stealing that lovely invisibility cloak that Potter's dead dad had left him, but decided it would be much more useful as a way to hide the other's broken face. "I don't suppose they'll find you until the train's back in London," he said as he dragged the cloak out from under Harry's stiff form, his voice quieting as the movement caused something to roll out of the Gryffindor's pocket. He picked up a small glass globe nonchalantly. "What is this, Potter? Longbottom's gran get you a remembrall, as well?" he mocked, smirking. When he took a good look at it though, he realized that he was staring at the Transport Sphere that he had given to Harry himself. His face fell as he glanced from it to Harry and back again. Does he carry it with him everywhere? He wondered to himself. Foolish boy actually thinks I'm serious… He controlled his features into a frown and thought as quickly as he could to cover up for his small lapse. "Damn thing doesn't even work," he said, tossing it onto the cushions of the seat where it was clearly visible from Harry's spot on the floor. The sight of Harry's slightly quickened breath and nervous eyes was enough to make Draco start to doubt if he should be doing this at all.
He mentally kicked himself. Since when did you care?! This is Saint Potter! He deserves every ounce of it! "See you around, Potter… or not." He made sure to step on Harry's fingers as a final reminder before leaving the compartment, closing the door, and rushing off of the train before all of the carriages had left… and successfully abandoning a wounded Harry Potter lying helpless on the floor.
Outside, Pansy was standing by a carriage with an open door and waved to Malfoy as soon as he came into sight. He climbed in quickly and she followed. His four housemates stared at him unceasingly even after the carriage began to move along toward the castle. They had sat like that for a few minutes before Draco finally asked, "What?"
"What do you mean 'what'?" Blaise snapped back. "What was so bloody important that made you hold us back for so long?"
"That's none of your business, now is it, Zabini?" the blond sneered back.
"It is when you make me late."
"We're not late, in case you haven't noticed. I can assure you that we are not the last to leave," he bit back, thinking of the one student who hadn't even been noticed as missing yet.
It was only once he was in the Entrance Hall of the castle that he was able to slip away into the corridor that led to the Slytherin dungeons. After he checked his surroundings to make sure that no one had followed him, he slid his own transfer sphere out of his robe pocket. At first, he gazed at it smugly, proud that he was able to pull off such genius as having multiple personailities that suited his every need, but his eyes soon displayed confusion as he realized that he, too, had the sphere so close at hand. I called Potter a fool for believing me and keeping the bloody thing in his pocket, yet here I am, clutching my own in my fist even as I walk… He shook his head to rid himself of the train of thought before it was able to manifest itself further.
"Harry?" he whispered to his closed hand, the orb completely hidden in his grasp. "Harry, where are you?" Sure, he knew where Precious Potter was, but Judas didn't, and what a pity it would be if his cover was to be blown so soon. "I never saw you come off of the train. Are you even in the castle?" Draco knew that he had left the orb in plain sight of Harry, but the other was lacking the ability to speak under present circumstances. "Harry?" he asked once more to be sure it sounded believable of Judas, then pocketed the sphere once more and headed through the Entrance Hall with the crowd towards the Great Hall.
A spot had been saved for him between the Boulders and across from Parkinson and Zabini. As he sat, Blaise rolled his eyes and Pansy sent the blond a pout. "What?" Draco inquired again, frustrated at the weird looks he had been receiving from them all evening.
"Should we even bother to ask?" remarked Blaise dryly.
"No. No, you shouldn't."
"Why are you keeping secrets from us, Draky?"
"Will you please stop calling me that, Parkinson," Malfoy snapped at her. "And I'm not keeping secrets; it's just none of your damn business."
"Hey, look. There's Professor Snape," Goyle announced dumbly, interrupting the argument that was soon going to ensue between the three Slytherins.
Draco smirked to himself. Perfect… Just as the greasy haired man had passed them at the table, the blond called out to him. "Um, Professor Snape!" He stood from the table and walked the few steps over towards his teacher and godfather while the man turned to face him with a clenched jaw, annoyed eyes, and an impatient sigh.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Sorry to interrupt your… energetic parade, but I thought it may interest you that Potter is not at the Gryffindor table." The man seemed to forget the minor insult once the green-eyed boy was mentioned. Draco took note of how the man's gaze quickly searched the nearby table for the familiar face and came up with nothing. He continued. "In fact, I don't recall even seeing him get off of the train." The blond could almost feel the looks being exchanged between his Slytherin classmates behind him. Snape's face turned suddenly grave and angry. He glared at the boy in front of him before brushing past and heading back out of the Great Hall, cloak billowing, as usual. (3) Malfoy's smirk grew even larger as he returned to his seat. It seemed that his friends' irritation had dissipated with the possibility of an injured Harry Potter.
"What did you do to him?" asked Zabini, a cruel smile starting on his face.
"Not much," Draco replied with a shrug, ignoring the guilt of all that he had just done to the Gryffindor in light of playing his part as a Death Eater's son. "Just broke his nose and a few fingers." As the evil grins and snickers of mischief spread through his four companions, Malfoy's eyes met Hermione's a few tables away. She was gazing and the five of them worriedly, fury tinting her features as she realized what they must be discussing. There wasn't too much that got his friends this excited, and no doubt the girl noticed the absence of Potter by that time. It didn't take an auror to figure out what must have happened back on the Hogwarts Express. His smug expression faltered and fell as the guilt hit him again and Hermione turned to Ron to begin speaking animatedly towards him. Whether or not his classmates noticed his change in attitude, he wasn't sure, but he was saved any possibility of explanations due to the arising of Professor McGonagall to begin this year's Sorting.
XXXXXXXXXX
That beautiful green script, which Harry had come to look forward to seeing, faded from the sphere as he watched on helplessly. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. How was he supposed to let the only person who noticed his disappearance know that he was abandoned and paralyzed back on the train? The minutes seemed to drag on for an eternity as he waited for the Express to start up again and head back for London.
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Professor Toadseye… They all saw where he had gone off to and whom he ran after. Wouldn't they assume that if Harry didn't get off of the train, it meant Malfoy must have done something to him? Wouldn't they worry? And yet, it seemed that Judas was the one who was the most concerned about Harry's well being, and not in the 'preserving-the-prophecy' way, either.
The pain in his broken nose was already beginning to subside as he got used to the throbbing; his fingers weren't broken, just sore. Harry also found that the longer he lay there, the more itchy he became, and of course he didn't have the ability to scratch at them. The only sensation that truly bothered him, however, was the pool of blood from his nose that was gathering in the corner of his mouth. His immobile tongue was able to taste the iron and salt and sweetness of the liquid that resided in him constantly yet was so foreign to his lips. It tasted like—
Realizing just what it was that he was thinking about, he abruptly changed the topic inside his mind to trying to find a way out of his current predicament. He strained his ears for any sounds outside of the compartment: the wind rustling the trees, the feather-light pattering of drizzle on the roof and window, the occasional hiss of steam from the engine, but the echoes of voices and the knocking of thestral-footsteps had long ago disappeared. The only hope he had of being found was if someone checked the compartments before the train departed, but even then they wouldn't see him due to that blasted invisibility cloak!
Harry nearly had a renewed hatred for Draco Malfoy. They had put up with a lot of nasty things from each other over the past five years, but he couldn't remember ever feeling this bitter towards his Slytherin peer. What a stupid situation he had now landed himself in… lying there pathetically on his side, waiting for someone to come in and step on him.
He mentally sighed. This was hopeless. Just as he was wondering how good of a hand he might have in non-verbal magic, the compartment door slid harshly open and a large pair of black shoes came to stand right next to Harry's unseen knees. A thrill ran through his gut at finally being discovered, but once his eyes had trailed up to the face of his rescuer, he would have rathered been halfway back to London than where he was at that moment. Above him towered none other than Professor Severus Snape, appearing annoyed and frustrated.
The Gryffindor's heart skipped a beat when he saw the greasy-haired man spot the transfer sphere on the seat cushion. Snape's long fingers wrapped around the perfect glass orb with malice, pocketed the item, and then glared quickly about the compartment. He stepped forward slightly to peek into the overhead rack, but sufficiently kicked Harry's shins in the process. It didn't take Snape all of two seconds to register what that must mean, and he soon reached down and tore the cloak away from the immobile victim.
"Mr. Potter," Snape identified sharply, allowing the last syllables to linger in the air momentarily. "Still trying to avoid the Sorting Ceremony, I see. You would think that after your little escapade in your second year, you would reconsider taking part in such recklessness. Then again, you were always one to regard yourself as higher than the rules." Harry was embarrassed beyond belief. There he was, crouched awkwardly before one of his teachers in a plainly paralyzed and slightly bloody state, and Snape had the audacity to accuse Harry of doing this to himself on purpose?! The entire idea was preposterous! He also noted, seeing as it was difficult for him not to notice, that the Headf HjsfhHead of Slytherin House hadn't even taken the few seconds to unfreeze his student. Instead, Snape carried on with what he was saying. "I believe that this," he motioned to the cloak in his hands, "should be confiscated by me until further notice, considering it seems to be a useful tool in only bringing attention to yourself where you oh-so-obviously want it. However—"
Suddenly, he was cut off by the jerk of the train starting up again to move. Regrettably, the man pointed his wand at the other and muttered something under his breath. The green-eyed boy was immediately freed from his invisible bonds as a flash of red light consumed him. His first instinct was to push himself away from the other and into a more dignified sitting position, wipe the blood off of his bruised face with the back of his hand, and glare hotly up at the slimy git whom he had come to abhor with such a passion. "Get up," Snape snapped through a snarl, grabbing the boy's forearm, dragging to his feet, and pushing him out of the compartment and into the corridor. From there on, Harry felt the sharp jabs in his back of Snape's wand as it led him through the Express towards the platform door. Once there, shock stung the boy as the wand prodded him out of the moving train. After all, who in their right mind would leap from an in-motion locomotive?
"Jump," was the merciless order that reached Harry's ears right before the Professor's hand pressed firmly on his back and forcibly shoved him out of the train. He was lucky that the vehicle hadn't yet picked up too much speed, and he came to a stumbling halt near the end of the platform. Glancing behind him after he had regained his balance, he saw Snape composing himself after his own jump and the Hogwarts Express turn the corner. Their race with the train had obviously interrupted Snape's accusations, for the man approached Harry, took hold of his upper arm yet again, and guided him back up towards the castle.
"As I was saying," he continued, deeming his words too important to overlook. "I do believe fifty points from Gryffindor should cover your lateness. And, let me see, another twenty for your muggle attire and your unceasing desire to be the center of attention. Hm, well, I actually can't recall any House ever being this far in the negatives so early in the term. They most likely have only just started pudding. You must have set a new record, Potter."
Hatred was practically radiating off of Harry, and he was amazed his professor couldn't feel it. But what amazed him even more was that he had miraculously bit his tongue against any snappy retort. Although, as the man kept on with his tirade, he found the feat more and more difficult to accomplish. They were entering the guarded gates by the time Harry was about ready to sock Snape in the face and duct tape his mouth shut.
"I find it funny," the man began with a sneer, "how you expected to be found, as if the entire school would go out in a search party to find The Chosen One. Are you so desperate for fame and publicity that you'd play Hide-and-Seek with Dumbledore just to be noticed? I suppose you wanted to make a grand entrance, as well, did you? And with no flying car available, you decided that bursting into the Great Hall to announce your glorious presence would create enough of a dramatic effect to suffice, and the whole of Hogwarts would sigh with relief to be aware of your safe arrival."
Silence reigned as Harry's blood boiled with the plainly fabricated explanations. The sooner they got to the Entrance Hall, the better; he would have done next to anything to be away from Snape. When they reached the steps, he nearly ran ahead to get inside. "And, Potter," Snape called out, causing the boy the stop at the large oak doors, his hands already itching to push them open so that he may slip inside unnoticed and escape this night which had humiliated him so. "I'll be keeping this for a while," he said, indicating the invisibility cloak in his hands. "You can walk through those doors so that everyone can see you, which I am sure is what you wanted."
The Gryffindor would have gladly petrified the man and broken his grotesque and crooked nose right then and there had he not been so afraid of expulsion. Shaking his head in frustration, he left the professor to follow him inside. However, instead of heading to the Great Hall, everyone was filing out of the doors towards their dormitories. Not only had he missed the sorting, he had missed the feast.
"Harry!" Hermione, who had already begun her prefect duties of showing the first years upstairs, turned back around and ran down to him and started the questionnaire. "Where have you been? We've been so wor— Blimey, Harry! What on earth happened to your face? Hold still." Harry froze as suddenly a wand pointed straight at his nose. "Episky! There, at least it's not broken. Tergeo. Ah, much better. Harry, what happened to you? We've been worried sick!"
"Thanks," he responded, feeling his mended nose and clean face. "But I'll explain everything later."
"But—"
"Not now! Not until we're up in the Common room."
Reluctantly, she agreed just as Ron caught up to them. One glance and he was able to get the idea that they'd discuss that evening's occurrences once the three of them were alone. So, instead, the redhead began to fill Harry in on everything that he missed during the feast and Dumbledore's speech.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Entrance Hall stood Draco in the Dungeon Corridor gazing at Harry thoughtfully. Just when he was seriously considering having Judas remark on Harry's sudden appearance, his attention was drawn away by the sound of his name being called. "Mr. Malfoy." Draco turned around to find that it was none other than his Head of House who beckoned him. "A word in my office, if I may?"
The blond sent Harry one last parting glance before following his godfather wordlessly away from the dungeons and to the fourth floor where Snape's new quarters were placed adjoined to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He simply stared at the man's back, feigning ignorance and nonchalance while fingering the transfer sphere absently in his pocket. He knew exactly what the professor wanted to speak to him about: why was Harry Potter abandoned in the Hogwarts Express, how annoying it was to always clean up his messes, and the new plans the Dark Lord had assigned him. Even though he figured this, he waited for the door to close behind them before crossing his arms and questioning shortly, "So? What is all this about?"
Snape, standing over his desk in a rather domineering manner, simply hissed an order from between clenched teeth. "Sit down."
There was a short pause while the blond raised a slim eyebrow, and then calmly claimed a chair opposite the man. "Better?" he asked smugly.
"Draco," the man began, his voice ringing with a warning of danger. "I have had quite enough of your childishness. The Dark Lord will not permit such behavior, for you know exactly the consequence of them, and neither will I. You are only a couple of years away from coming of age, and you will be required to begin acting as such. And now, with his plans for you, weakness is not an option."
"I'm not weak!" Malfoy snapped at the man, before biting his tongue to prevent him from speaking further.
Snape wasted no time in gliding around the desk, clasping his hands on the arms of Draco's chair, and leaning his angered and large-nosed face close to the boy's. "Participating in pathetic pranks such as the one you did tonight makes you a child. And being a child is weakness." With a daring glare, he moved away and turned his back to his grandson. "I know your idea of weakness. It shines through your perfect mask every time that you see your father bow to the dark Lord."
Draco adverted his eyes to glare at a photo of a beautiful auburn-haired woman on his professor's desk. Her green eyes sparkled worriedly at him, and her hand was held out awkwardly in front of her, as if she wished to give him a comforting embrace but realized she couldn't due to the fact that she was two-dimensional. (4) Her concern only angered him further. He didn't need anyone's help, especially his father's. His attention was drawn back to the man at the sound of glass hitting wood.
Severus had roughly set Harry's transfer sphere on his desk and was watching the boy expectantly. Malfoy's eyes grew slightly wide in surprise and his hand flew to his pocket, out of sight of the other. His first thought was that his godfather had somehow slipped the item away from him, but it was still there. He could feel it sitting familiarly against his leg where he had been fingering it only a few minutes before. A breath of relief came upon him until he realized what this must have now added up to. That sphere must be the one he had given Harry… Questions started to race through his mind. Why didn't Harry have it? How did Snape get it? Does he know that it was for Harry? Does he even know what it is? Will he tell his father about it?
"No," Severus answered before a single word had left the blond's lips. He had taken the slightly panicked look on Draco's face as the shock that he had lost such a vital part of the Dark Lord's plans, and continued. "No one saw it other than me, but I won't always be there to clean up after you've had your… fun." (5) The man motioned for his student to take the orb as he sat down behind his desk once more. Malfoy grasped it protectively, but listen warily to the man's next few words. "I know that your father had sent you to Borgin and Burkes for something to aid you in your assignment, and I can only assume that this is it. However, should you ever manage to… misplace it again, please note that I will be sending it directly to your father. Perhaps he would be able to handle it more responsibly."
The thought of Lucius knowing about his recent connection with the Boy Who Lived made the Slytherin's face lose a bit of color. Luckily, Snape took it as fear of the Dark Lord's temper and seemed pleased with his reaction. "Also," he continued, this time more good-naturedly; well, as good-naturedly as Severus Snape would be. "While on the train, I confiscated something that may be of great use to you this year." It was then that he pulled out the invisibility cloak and presented it to Malfoy.
The blond was taken aback. Confiscated?! More like stole… He set glaring eyes on the man as he snatched the cloak out of his hands. "Why are you helping me?"
Severus' face fell back to its grim, stoic countenance. "I have no choice."
"Do you really think I'm that much of an idiot? Either you're lying, or someone ordered you to do so. Who asked you?"
"Your mother. She practically begged."
"My mother?! Since when did you have loyalties to any woman, let alone my mother?"
Snape was now glaring right back at his godson. "That is none of your concern. Consequently, an Unbreakable Vow, as you very well know, cannot be ignored."
"An Unbreakable Vow?! You made an Unbreakable Vow with my mother?!"
"She wanted me to help you, to make sure you didn't injure yourself and that you succeeded."
"I do not need your help!" Draco stood with a flourish, turned on his heel, and exited the DADA office, transfer sphere and cloak in hand, leaving a still very irritated and annoyed Death Eater to fume alone behind his desk.
The blond quickly made his way down five flights of stairs to the Slytherin Dormitories in the dungeons. It was obvious now that his mother, though easily more likable than his father, did not trust him to fulfill the duty assigned to him. Honestly, part of himself did not trust him with the task, but what choice did he have? The Dark Lord had made it clear what to expect if his job was not performed, and he had no desire to experience such pain at that moment in time.
Entering the Common Room, he was greeted by the same four faces that he had the misfortune of seeing everyday for the duration of his stay at Hogwarts. "So?" Blaise asked skeptically. "Had another outing with Potter behind our backs?"
Malfoy merely sent him a glare and brushed past him. "Snape wanted to see me about my duty to the Dark lord," he said simply, ascending the steps, entering his dormitory, and sufficiently shutting his classmates out of the room. He flopped down onto his bed dejectedly and groaned into his pillow. Minutes passed slowly as he lay there, sprawled across his green sheets and wishing that he could rewind his life so that he may have one that is not so affected by the Dark Lord. Once he felt too drained to even care, he peeled off his cloak, tie, and shirt, stowed Harry's belongings carefully into his trunk, and climbed into bed, playing with and staring at his own glass orb. I don't know, Harry, but I have a feeling that you're going to get me in a lot of trouble…
Draco fell asleep with his Transfer Sphere held lightly in his idle grasp.
TBC…
AN// Dammit… I just realized that I made Harry do underage wizardry outside of Hogwarts… "…" … This sucks. (Sweat drop) I am SOOOOO SORRY that I took this long to update. Trust me, I had my reasoning, but I don't think any excuses will suffice. I am so sorry!! But, now I'm wondering… Does this mean I'll have to rewrite the seventh book too???
(1) – By the way, in case you can't figure it out, the 'Boulders' are referring to Crabbe and Goyle, of course. And 'the sorrows on Malfoy's mind?' Are you kidding me? Just how much can a little prissy rich boy whose family is totally ruled over by the Dark Lord possibly have weighing on his mind? (Please note sarcasm.)
(2) – Okay, so I had a bit of fun calling them names. So what if it's not in the book? Sue me! (Not really… please! ;;)
(3) – Ack!! I'm sorry!! This scene sounded more like an HP/SS story than an HP/DM. You'll have to forgive me though, right[Bow, bow
(4) Try to guess who this pretty little lady is.
(5) Wow... o.0 That sounds really perverted to any yaoi fangirl….