Murder attempt no.1

As I flew through the air, clutching Neville's Remberall in my hand, I looked behind my shoulder to see how Potter was doing. With absolutely no lessons in flying and his head clouded with anger, my guess was that he would either fall from his broom and, from this height, break his spine or dash his brains out on the castle turret.

Later that month

Potter stepped out onto the Quidditch pitch. A dozen girls swooned and half the watching crowd brought out their Harry Potter merchandise in support.

'Fuck', I said.

Murder attempt no.2

'Yer sure you're alright to sell it to me?'

I smiled in my hood in a reassuring way then, realising it was pointless given the fact that my head was shrouded in darkness, said 'Of course. This is a very friendly breed, more akin to a Labrador than a dragon. The perfect pet.'

Hagrid looked disappointed at my implication that the dragon I was selling him wouldn't immediately try to rip his face off like the psychopath he was. 'Only I was hoping it would be a bit more…exciting. I wanted something really good to show them, you see'.

I inclined my hood slightly to indicate my confusion. 'You're showing this to…who? Your children? While I am a completely amoral merchant, I do draw the line at selling to a family man. Perhaps I should take my business elsewhere'.

The half giant looked horrified at the prospect. 'No! Please! I'll take her!'.

As I sat at the Ravenclaw table at breakfast, I looked around. Neither Hagrid, Harry, Ron or Hermione were there. Presumably they had all died horrific deaths, simultaneously roasted and boiled alive by the hatching baby dragon I had sold Hagrid the night before, which specialised in sautéing its prey. Cheered by this prospect, my appetite was especially robust and I tucked into my blood pudding appreciatively. As I was about to take my fourth helping, Hagrid limped into the room, followed by three charred looking pre-teens, most definitely not dead.

…

'And that is why, unfortunately, Hagrid has been momentarily expelled until we can get the situation under control'. Professor Dumbledore looked haggard and unhappy as he finished his speech, and the hall filled with a saddened silence, broken only by my applause.

Murder attempt no.3

'Draco, we know you're up to something'.

A small group of Ravenclaws surrounded me, frowning sternly, their carefully starched robes contrasting against my own magnificently torn ones.

'What do you mean?', I said innocently.

'You're trying to kill Harry Potter', said one boy with mousy brown hair.

'No I'm not'.

'You're literally reading 101 Most Deadly Poisons Which Leave No Trace and we've all seen you following him around with that dagger. It's really obvious that it's hidden up your sleeve, you aren't being subtle'.

I turned to look at them, closing my book. Thankfully, it was late at night so there was no one else around to hear. 'And what are you going to do about it?'

'Tell a teacher! You're obviously breaking school rules!'

I appraised the prefect who had said this, guessing that it was she who had arranged this whole intervention. I decided I liked her as she evidently had no moral compass of her own but based her entire understanding of good and evil off of the school rules. Momentarily I considered debating with her over the exact wording of these school rules and the loophole I had found which I could exploit, but instead decided to take things slow. 'I'm not attempting to kill him', I said. 'I'm obsessively in love with him. There's nothing in the school rules against that'.

The small group gaped. I smiled blandly at them. There was a reason that I had become the Dark Lord, and it wasn't by having poor tactics. 'The reason I have the dagger and am looking up the poisons is to kill all of my love rivals, but it's not working. There are too many of them, I need help.'

One of the younger students looked horrified. 'You're trying to kill them!?'

A Sixth year girl with long dark hair looked at him in disgust. 'He's in love. Don't be so insensitive, George'.

I pretended to wipe away a tear, not hard to fake as since they couldn't see my head beneath the hood they couldn't tell that I wasn't actually crying. 'It's just so hard', I sniffled.

'Don't worry', said another of the gang. 'We'll help you'. As I put my hand to my heart, pretending to be touched, I thanked Merlin for the Ravenclaw combination of complete amorality, obsession with being right over being good and high academic but low social intelligence. So much better than my original Death Eaters, whose only qualifications had been sadism and a complete lack of self-respect.

…

'Listen Nadia, I thought we agreed that we were targeting Ron as my Number One love rival. Ever since that incident with the troll he and Harry have been getting a little too close for my tastes'.

I was currently taking a new tack in my efforts to murder the Boy-Who-Lived (hopefully not for much longer). Direct murder was evidently impossible: however, removing all the boy's allies and then, when he was finally utterly alone and defenceless murdering him the good old-fashioned way (with a knife) was child's play. My Ravenclaw 'friends' as they had declared themselves were slowly shaping up to be excellent minions through their desperate wish to please anyone with a hint of authority, and the fact that I had been subtly brainwashing them daily.

Nadia, my fourth year Ravenclaw minion, looked irritated. I inclined my hood at her sternly. 'I know that you want to kill Hermione because she got better grades than you in every single subject. But trust me, Ron is the more serious threat right now'.

'She didn't get better grades than me', said Nadia bitterly, 'the teachers just wrote the wrong grade on my work by accident'.

I patted her hand sympathetically. 'Look, if this attitude is because you're worried that she'll usurp your place as one of my minions, don't worry. She's still significant enough of a threat that, despite her ingenuity and leaning toward amorality if not despotism, I couldn't take her on, even if she is superior to you in every way'.

With that, I walked away, leaving her in the corridor. I had always been good at soothing my minions and it pleased me to know I hadn't lost my touch.

…..

I stood in the hospital wing. 'Incredible, Nathan', I said, staring at the tiny, mousy haired First Year Ravenclaw in astonishment. 'I never realised you could be quite so brutal'. Nathan stared down at Ron and Hermione who were unconscious, both sporting blackened eyes and bloody lips. 'How did you do it?'

'Troll', said Nathan. I decided not to ask.

'Shame it didn't kill them', I said, 'but excellent work'.

'Draco, why haven't you spoken to or flirted with Harry at all?'

'I'm shy'.

'But you stare at him obsessively every single mealtime and whenever you're in his vicinity. I think you should go for it'.

'No, that would be-' I had begun to shake my head when I realised what an ingenious idea this was. I would finally be close to Potter without two of his biggest allies beside him. 'Nathan, that's a fantastic idea'.

Nathan nodded at me, his hazel eyes shining enthusiastically. He looked so innocent it was hard to remember that he had let a highly violent creature into the school merely to aid me in fulfilling my ambition. I made a mental note to make him my favourite Death Eater after I achieved world domination.

…

I was sat in Flitwick's class, attempting to subtly levitate Harry through the window when I was broken out of my reverie by the professor's voice.

'I just don't know where it could have gotten to! My money just keeps on disappearing!'

Ah, yes. When I had come to Hogwarts I had quickly discovered that my personal source of revenue was this man. I had briefly considered swapping to a different person, but soon realised I wouldn't get so much enjoyment out of robbing another person. I watched him placidly and pretended to attempt to levitate a cushion.

….

I was awoken late in the night a few months later by a soft tapping on my window. I looked up and saw, as I had expected, Hedwig the snowy white owl. This was not particularly surprising as I had been steadily eliminating all the students who had ever been even vaguely nice to Harry through my minions. While they hadn't actually killed any yet, not being fully brainwashed into mindless violence (I was working on solving that), but had managed to knock all of them fully unconscious through a combination of trolls, poison and Avada Kadavra performed at half efficiency given that they only half meant it.

Of course, the complete loss of allies also meant that Harry finally only had one person left that he vaguely knew. Me. His new Best Friend for the entire time that it took for me to get him alone with my murder weapon of choice. I crept out of bed and took the note from the owl's beak; with a soft hoot, she nudged me impatiently. I opened it.

Draco,

I need your help. Before Hermione was knocked unconscious by Hagrid - (oh yes. I had almost forgotten – I had begun spreading rumours that Hagrid was secretly sneaking into the school and knocking children unconscious. A handy trick, blaming Hagrid. It had gotten me out of a lot of tricky situations in my youth, too.) – we discovered a secret door. I think something's important under there and I need your help to get it back. Please meet me on the corridor in ten minutes.

Harry.

As we walked along the corridor, I flicked my sleeve over the knife I was holding, hiding it from view. 'Why don't we go in here to talk?', I said, gesturing at a private classroom.

'Sure', said Harry. As I prepared to stab him, he asked, 'Have you heard of the Philosopher's Stone?'

…..

'Draco, are you sure that it was necessary to kill Fluffy? Where did you even get that knife?'

…

'Accio the real key'

'Oh. Are you sure we weren't meant to use these brooms?'

'No, obviously not. Clearly they're cursed and are a plot to kill whoever rides one.'

…..

I stared at the potions. Harry gazed at me in horror. 'What do we do?', he asked. I cast my mind back, seeming to recall that Lucius had a house elf I could summon. What was its name? Dubby? Dabsy? Daisy?

'Dobby!' I cried.

'Are you sure he'll be ok?' Harry asked, looking upset as Dobby chugged all three potions at once.

'Sure', I said. 'I'm pretty sure I saw him drink boot polish once. I think he likes the taste.'

…

Finally, we came to a hall, where I saw Quirrell. He stared at Harry with a mad glint in his eye. I raised my wand to kill him, but before I could he raised his wand and yelled Stupefy! Everything went black.

…..

I woke up in the Hospital Wing. The last time I had been in there it had been so full of unconscious Gryffindors bunk beds had started being implemented, but now I was one of the only ones there. Harry was lying next to me, fast asleep, very obviously not dead. My hair was neatly trimmed, I was wearing a hospital gown and my knife was gone. Looking around in panic, I suddenly caught sight of Dumbledore, gazing out of the window. 'Release me at once!', I cried. 'This is completely unconstitutional. I am going to sue you for the loss of my hair, and I want my knife and cloak returned to me immediately.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'My dear boy', he said. We had to cut your hair to heal your skull, which you broke when you fell after Quirrell shot that stunning spell at you. Unfortunately, you can't have that knife back, as not only is it illegal to carry on your person anyway, but upon further examination I saw that the knife isn't even legal for adult magical practitioners to carry. I'm not even sure where you got it from, to be honest'. He frowned a little at me, and I attempted to look chastised. He continued. 'Anyway, now is not the time for admonishment. You have done a very brave thing.'

'I have?'

'Yes, you have helped save the wizarding world. Not only did you aid Harry in a time of great need, but you protected him. If I am right in my theory, your sacrifice to be hit by the stunning spell Quirrell aimed at Harry has made the boy even stronger.'

'You mean-'

'Yes Draco, you are quite right. You have made Harry almost unkillable. I am so very proud.'

…

'In conclusion, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tie for the House Cup this year'. Everyone cheered, except for me. I was practically boiling with rage. There was only one thing which could soothe me now.

'Excuse me, may I make a speech?'. As I stood up, the whole school cheered. I held up my hand for silence.

'As you may know, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have tied for the House Cup, a symbol of inter-house unity never seen before in Hogwarts's history. However, before this cup is awarded, I have a few things to say. Firstly, it's been me who has been stealing your money throughout the year, Professor Flitwick.'

Flitwick, to my great surprise, did not look angry. 'My dear boy', he said quietly, 'I quite understand that you may have a guilty conscience, but you must not blame yourself. You are a national hero now, and I know that after the – ahem – trial your family may have been hard up for money – '

'That is true, Flitwick. However, if I wanted to I could have easily applied to Hogwarts for the necessary victim. I just chose to steal from you because I wanted to. Also, Professor McGonnagle, I've been attempting to break into the safe you keep in your classroom all year. I think I've almost cracked the code'.

….

As we packed up for our journey home, I noticed that my roommates, whose names I hadn't bothered learning looked a bit down. I couldn't understand it myself. I had been in a good mood all day.

'What's wrong?', I asked.

'You literally put us into negative points with that speech of yours yesterday', said one of them accusingly.

I shrugged. 'You're just being selfish. The important thing isn't that you lost some stupid cup, the important thing is that I was able to vent my anger and make other people unhappy. Put it into perspective.'