If I Lose Myself
by EMPG22HoPe

Chapter Ten: Draco

December 1996

Draco came back to the Slytherin dungeons in the dead of the night. And by that, it meant about three in the morning. He'd been in the Room of Requirement for quite literally five hours now. It terrified him how very little sleep he had these past few days, but it was better that than sleep, for that's when the nightmares come.

He was quite used to having nightmares as a child. Though mostly out of the fact that his parents fought a lot at one point and have considered divorce. It was the excruciating foreshadow of losing his parents – and right now, he wasn't quite far from his younger self. Because at this point, it was just the same scenario though only this time, his and his parents' lives were hanging by a thread.

As much as he's close to giving up on the vanishing cabinet, he pursued fixing it mostly in the hope that by the time his aunt and the other Death Eaters came through, they'd get tired of waiting for him to kill Dumbledore that one of them – though probably his aunt Bellatrix – was bound to do it themselves. Even though that wasn't exactly the purpose of what the Vanishing Cabinet was for, he felt that it was a short way of luck for him.

It was a coward's way out, truthfully. Months ago, he never would have considered it until he realized the fatality of his and his parents' lives. He was not an assassin; he knew that in himself now. He could hurt anyone as easily as Aunt Bellatrix could flick a Crucio, but to take someone's life… that was something he could never shake off him.

And yet, he had to be. He had to otherwise he'll die. He had to otherwise his parents' lives will be payment for his transgressions. He had resorted thoughts in ways on how he would do it, but every time it all just felt like all bark and no bite. It was remarkably frustrating and it was driving him mad.

It was funny how not too long ago, again, he would have been proud of this particular glory. He would have been proud to be chosen for such a pressing job. If he succeeded, he'd earn his family's honor and glory back. Now, he simply dreaded ever feeling that sort of pride—becoming a Death Eater, being chosen—as if to feel it would singe the very fabric of his being.

The second Draco came into the common room, he immediately saw Blaise sitting before the fireplace lit with emerald flames; its fire dancing around violently in the dark of the room.

At the sound of his footsteps, Blaise looked up to him and rose from where he sat as he said, "Late out at night again, huh, Draco?"

"What are you even doing awake at this time of night?" asked Draco as he stripped off his robes. "You best head off, Blaise – or I'll have to resort to taking points out of our own house, and we both don't want that now, really."

"It's ironic coming from a Prefect himself who should be in bed just as well." Blaise digressed, crossing his arms on his chest. "Where have you been, mate?"

"Oh, thank Merlin. I was starting to wonder when you'll ever ask that bloody question again." He said sarcastically as he placed his robes on his left shoulder roughly. "When are you ever going to stop asking me that despite your knowledge of my never answering it in any verse of the world?"

The dark wizard shook his head disappointedly. "Is it because you're a Death Eater now, mate? If it is—"

"So what if it is?" He snarled as he cast his friend a menacing glare.

"I'm just concerned. I really am. You're not yourself, and that's literally saying something." Blaise pointed out tiredly. "I thought you were joking on the train to Hogwarts when you said that you were a Death Eater. I thought maybe you just wanted to show off in front of Pansy…"

There was a pregnant silence between them as Draco nearly didn't know what to say. Blaise, of all people, never took him seriously. Though mostly it was all friendly fun, but the fact that he thought he'd been joking by then about his position in the Dark Lord's army pained him in a way he hadn't fully expected. What the bloody hell was happening to him?

"I'm going to bed." Draco said finally as he started to make his way for the stairs towards the boys dormitory. "I don't have time for this."

"Wait, so it's true then?" Blaise called after him. Draco turned around impatiently at this.

"I've told you what I know and am. If that's not enough for you, then tough bloody luck, mate." He told him off icily now, his patience wearing very thin as he reached for the pockets of his robes instinctively before turning his back on his friend. "Goodnight, Blaise."

"Draco, just—"

"Petrificus Totalus!" came Draco's loud cry of a curse as he directed it swiftly towards Blaise. But to his utmost surprise, the other wizard repelled it wordlessly.

"Really?" Blaise taunted him but began to move back as far away as he possibly could with his wand on hand. "You seem to favor that curse a lot."

The bloody git. "Confringo!"

Blaise deflected the curse with a wave of his wand yet again before hiding behind one of the emerald sofas. "You really are mad, aren't you? Though I really am surprised you haven't learned nonverbal spells yet. I would think that you of all people would find that kind of magic useful."

Draco followed him around the common room dauntingly as he threw another curse, "Expulso!"

At this, Blaise nearly got caught in the crossfire as he quickly moved out of the way – the emerald sofa he had been hiding behind exploding in a burst of blue light. They went on like this for what felt like hours, him throwing one curse after another at Blaise – who so easily deflected it with a swish of his wand – while destroying several things in the common room.

At the point of his great frustration, when Draco was about to cast the Cruciatus curse, he heard the sound of a spell whizzing towards him. He felt himself get thrown into the air and hit his back against the stone-cold wall – his wand disarmed from him wordlessly as he felt the rush of pain course through him. His entire body fell limply onto the dark marble floors, the sound of his wand rolling away from him the only thing he heard apart from his groans.

Footsteps came running down from both stairs that wound upwards next to him. There were several murmurs and gasps of surprise from the students that just got out of bed. Draco didn't even bother to look up only because he was too dazed to even recognize his surroundings at the moment.

"Oy, bugger off, you tiny lot! And not a word to Snape about this or else." He heard Blaise bark at them. "Ay, come on now. Haven't your mummies and daddies ever told you that You-Know-Who lurks best at three in the morning?"

A few of them let out cries of terror as he heard some of them run back up the stairs. Others muttered rubbish and codswallop on what Blaise had said, but decided to follow the rest of the others back into their dormitories.

For some time within that minute, Draco's vision cleared a little and he saw Blaise standing right before him; offering his hand. He reluctantly took it just as he heard someone come down the stairs again.

"What happened here?" Astoria's soft voice echoed throughout the disassembled common room.

Draco risked a sideway glance towards the one girl he'd been trying to avoid for weeks now, and when he saw her look at him – he felt a strange tug of guilt at the pit of his stomach. It hurt him even more that she barely gave him a five second glance before turning over to look at Blaise.

"What's happened?" She asked again as she tried to, no doubt, cover her thin peach top by crossing her arms on her chest.

"It's not something for you to worry about, Tori." Blaise confirmed calmly as he sat Draco onto his feet. "Off you go, then. Everything's fine down here."

"That's an awful lie, Zabini." Astoria contended firmly, and Draco tried to look anywhere but at the green-eyed witch. "Alright. Well, you take care then, I suppose…"

And with a whip of her long, black hair, she was heading up towards the girl's dormitories.

Draco let out a sigh of half-relief and half-jadedness as he took a seat on one of the less-combusted seats that he had destroyed only moments ago. Blaise handed him his wand back wordlessly before taking out his wand and casting a light muffliato around them. A transparent shield appeared before him after Blaise said two more incantations; salvio hexia and protego totalum.

Then, a brief silence settled upon them. Normally, he'd find himself simply walking off out of frustration at scenarios like this. But right now, he just didn't feel like acting the pompous git he was. In fact, he was so spent from the five hour stay in the Room of Requirement and the sudden duel he'd protruded that a little bit of silence wasn't so bad to have.

Out of nowhere, he felt obliged to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt to reveal his left forearm. At the sound of this, he saw Blaise look down and widen his eyes upon seeing dark mark; its black ink dancing against his flesh ominously. Blaise finally looked up at him, his mouth slightly agape as his expression interchanged between fear and surprise – sometimes a bit of both in one.

"When?" His friend asked just as Draco pushed his sleeve down uncomfortably.

"It was in July, just days after my father was locked up in Azkaban." He answered darkly as he looked up at the ceiling briefly, resisting the tears that were threatening to show. "He came into the manor; everything was really cold – colder than any Dementor could ever make you feel. He was there with my mother and Bellatrix. He threatened to kill me and my parents if I didn't do it. If… if I didn't do what he'd asked me to do."

"Yeah?" Blaise's voice trembled. "And what was it?"

The memory of the event came back to him all of a sudden.

"I must ask of you a great task to fulfill, young Draco." Voldemort drawled lazily now that Narcissa and Bellatrix were out of ear shot, his red slit-like eyes boring into him harshly. "If you recall, I cannot be in complete power under certain circumstances. Under… certain liabilities. Albus Dumbledore, admittedly, is the greatest wizard known to modern man. A disgraceful thing to think, but not quite in the near future."

Draco nodded as his left forearm burned with the most excruciating pain, having been freshly marked with the skull and serpent ink. He wanted to look at something else, anything, but the Dark Lord's cold, unforgiving blood-red eyes. But he feared that if he did, he might be reprimanded terribly.

"And what task should I need to accomplish, my lord?" He found his voice in the depths of his lurking thoughts.

What possible mission did he need to succeed in? Surely, basic Death Eater requirements—Cruciatus curse on a Ministry official, or the Imperius curse on an Auror at Hogwarts or—

Voldemort smiled icily at him. "I need you to kill Albus Dumbledore."

At this, he felt his body slacken considerably – absolutely baffled by what he'd just been told.

"M-My lord?" Draco blurted awfully, finally dropping that cool façade that he'd been sporting throughout the whole ceremony. "S-surely there's another way? Another witch or wizard that could—"

"Do you doubt me, Draco Malfoy?" Voldemort's voice raised considerably, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "Do you doubt my trust as I have so given it to you now?"

"N-no, m-m-my lord," He shivered uncontrollably. "It's just that would it not be easier if Professor Snape – considering his allegiance to you – would do the task more efficiently?"

"It is within great reason why I have chosen you, child." Voldemort scolded. "What better way than to kill the greatest wizard under the unsuspecting hands of a mere boy? No one would see it coming, and neither will he."

Draco kept his mouth shut at this as he felt beads of sweat roll down the side of his face.

"Dumbledore has set a protection spell around the castle. I cannot go anywhere near it and neither will any of my other Death Eaters. No… only a student within the perimeters or a teacher would be capable." The Dark Lord nodded calmly, though his steely voice remained. "To your question on why I would not simply just ask Snape, then you must be as foolish as your father. Have I not told you that you and your parents' lives are at stake?"

This caused Draco to purse his lips, but his eyes read of utter fear and disgust.

"Shall I set an example then…" Voldemort pointed his wand at the double doors where his mother and aunt stood behind. "Starting with your mother?"

Draco closed his eyes to shut off the memory. He felt hot tears brim his eyes, just now realizing that he had been crying the whole time recalled all of it. Blaise was patting him on the back in an attempt to comfort him, and for once – he was grateful, despite feeling remarkably pathetic.

Draco Malfoy never showed an inch of weakness.

But perhaps it could, if it meant his parents' lives. If it meant his.

"I can't tell you." He said in a rasp voice as he wiped his tears off with the back of his arm harshly. "I'm not allowed to tell what it specifically is. But… it's bad, Blaise. I'm neck-deep in it and I know I shouldn't do it, but I have to. I was proud of the opportunity for a moment, you know? But it's getting worst and I… He'll… he'll…"

"I know." Blaise nodded, understanding as he continued to pat him awkwardly. "You don't have to tell me if you're not allowed to. I just wish you hadn't kept this from me, or Pansy, really. By Salazar, Draco, I had no idea."

Draco choked at this ridiculously as he sobbed for a brief few minutes, looking down and away from his friend, ashamed of literally anything that he's done so far into the year; even more so for even showing a fraction of his weakness. He knew he should feel honored; proud, even, that he would be the one to save his father out of Azkaban. He was chosen for a reason, and that he should be grateful. But in the midst of it all, he just couldn't. It didn't feel right, and nothing ever felt right anymore.

"Don't tell Pansy." He finally said and looked up at his friend, finally gaining his bearings. "I don't want her to worry any more than she already is. She wouldn't understand. Despite herself, she's innocent. You're innocent. I shouldn't have even told you in the first place."

"I'm glad you told me." Blaise encouraged warmly, though his eyes read with worry. "And I promise I won't tell her. But Draco is there anything I could possibly help you with? Anything at all? I know this is literally disregarding what my mum told me about staying as far away from you as possible, but I just bloody can't. You're my best mate. I'm literally screaming that honor at the top of my lungs at everybody who says otherwise. Can you imagine the look on people's faces when I say it? They think I've gone mad. One first year even offered to send me off to St. Mungo's, the little munch."

Draco couldn't help but laugh at his friend's ridiculousness. Put it past Blaise to come up with a joke in the middle of a serious conversation. He shook his head at this. How in bloody hell did he end up being friends with this man?

"I go off to the Room of Requirement every night." He admitted this time, his eyes drying considerably as he went on. "You know, the room where we found Dumbledore's Army or whatever load of bullocks Potter calls that little group of his. It's in the seventh floor where you and Pansy found me. I'm trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet there."

"Is that part of the mission too?" asked Blaise.

"It is. It's also kind of a back-up plan in case things don't go as… well." Draco said before pursing his lips.

Blaise was quiet for a moment before he offered, "What can I do to help?"

Draco shook his head at this, his mouth opening and closing undecidedly. He didn't know if he should even involve Blaise to begin with. Crabbe and Goyle were completely clueless, but Blaise knew a hinge of the plan. He knew he was up to something, and he honestly couldn't afford to lose his friend if something slips up.

"Just… keep Astoria as far away from me as possible." As Draco said this, his mouth felt completely dry and his heart thudded raucously against his chest. "I can't… I can't afford to…"

"Did he threaten to hurt her too?" Blaise questioned in horror. "Bloody hell, that nose-less bastard's mad."

"No, he didn't." He answered almost immediately. "But I've been having Occlumency lessons with my aunt for the past month now and… she just keeps popping up, you know? I stopped seeing her for tutoring after my aunt… well. She was right, anyway. Any more attachment to Astoria and the Dark Lord might hurt her. I can't let that happen."

"That's why you've been avoiding us, huh?" His friend mumbled audibly. "You think the Dark Lord's gonna hurt us if you fail this mission?"

"He's unpredictable and I wouldn't be surprised if he starts using you, or Pansy, or Astoria or even Crabbe and Goyle as leverage." Draco said miserably, the weight of the condition now taking him farther down a dark hole. He looked up to his friend desperately. "You can't tell her. Astoria, I mean. You can't. I doubt she'll forgive me if she knew the reason anyway. I just can't afford to lose more people in my life."

"I get it." Blaise acknowledged as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You owe her an explanation, though. I'm sure she'll understand if you just told her the truth. She seems like she genuinely cares about you, mate."

Draco licked his dry lips before saying, "In time, maybe."

There was another brief silence, and Draco only lately realized that the protection charm around them had gone. He drew himself off the nearly burned seat and began repairing it with his wand. Blaise soon followed after as they fixed the common room with whooshes of reparo; neither saying a word until they've finished returning the place to its natural, sleek glory.

"I asked Daphne out." Blaise said out of nowhere as he tapped his wand on a broken chair.

"You've been trying to do that for the past year now. I'm not surprised you tried again." Draco declared off-handedly, feeling grateful for the change of topic.

Blaise groaned in defeat. "No, it's different this time, you know? Slughorn's hosting this party on the 20th for his students and some alumni, and I wanted to bring her there like I would anywhere for a date. And you know what she said?"

Draco tilted his head with a slight smirk, asking him to go on.

"She said she wouldn't go out with me because of Theodore Nott." Blaise exasperated as he threw his hands in the air for good measure. "Theodore Nott. The bloody bastard of all people."

"What about Nott?" Draco jested in amusement.

"She said that she's dating him." Blaise cried in disbelief. "Are you seriously telling me that she's going out with him? Since when? I haven't heard an official announcement. It's like she popped it in out of nowhere. He's not worth the galleons he owns! I'm a much suitable suitor than him. Nott, what a load of codswallop."

"Maybe they've just been engaged." He offered, though regretted it immediately when he saw Blaise's eyes light up in fury. "I mean, it's possible. Daphne's family is one of the well-respected pure-bloods in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I wouldn't be surprised if the parents start pairing us off this early. Maybe they're just preparing for the worst that's yet to come."

"Yeah, yeah, I know about the whole pairing off. Pure-bloods got to get married to a fellow pure-blood. You, may I remind, being one of them. And to Pansy Parkinson, no less." Blaise waved a hand dismissively. "I just don't understand it. It's like the whole world's gone mad. You're a Death—er, I mean, a DE and Daphne's going out with Nott. No, possibly engaged to Nott. It's completely mental."

Draco scoffed at the mention of Pansy. Somehow he always seemed to forget that he and Pansy had been engaged since before they were even born. He'd had only found out days before the Yule Ball when he owled his parents about bringing Pansy to it.

Most people would lose their minds at the mention of being engaged at literally fourteen years old. But to pure-blood families, it was a custom as well as an honor. At that time, he was proud to have been engaged to a respectable pure-blood family such as Pansy's, especially one from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Well, that is, until the incident of her father getting chucked into a muggle jail about a year ago. The Parkinsons' image was ruined, though he never quite discussed the consequences of the engagement with his parents after that. He just didn't feel like bringing any of it up – he'd worry about that in the future.

Somehow, he didn't try to bother with it as he's cut off any relationship he might have had with her after a month into the school year. Not all pure-blood marriages were bound to spring with love. He was sure he'd have felt that at one point with Pansy, but it just seemed too innocent at that time. Too… how should he call it? Well, he didn't have time for any of that at that point in time. He was too busy riling other people up with insults and just basically running the school now that he'd become a Prefect.

"You must really like this girl, mate." Draco shook his head, snickering at his friend's frustration.

"I want her." Blaise said miserably but with a passion he'd never seen in the Italian wizard before. "All of her. I know I tend to mess with the Ravenclaw girls. I mean, they're good snogs, those Ravenclaws. But that was a year ago. Things have changed, mate. She's the only girl that I don't want to leave off in a corner. She deserves so much more than that. Sometimes I'm terrified I won't be enough. That I can't give her the life she'd want, but I'm desperate to hand it to her on a silver platter because she's a smashing queen that deserves it. You know?"

Draco swallowed, having already felt the feeling of not being enough. Well, either that or being too much. He felt that way around Astoria all the time. He didn't deserve her; sweet, cheerful and kind Astoria. She was far too much of a contradiction, far too innocent, far too much light in his dark. He didn't deserve the light, not with what he was about to do.

"You're a far better man than me in that love department, if that makes you feel any better." He told his friend with much sudden self-pity. "If anything, you deserve Daphne. I just think she just hasn't realized that she deserves a strapping bloke like you."

Blaise laughed at this, his eyes all bewildered. "These girls. They're gonna kill us, huh?"

Draco scoffed in defeat before nodding.

Somehow it terrified him how right Blaise might be.