Chapter Two

For once Draco arrived early for the train. He walked swiftly to the back and locked himself inside the last compartment. He figured that the spell he used wouldn't last for long once the train filled, but he needed some time alone to think. His father's master had set him on an impossible task; gain the trust of Harry Potter. Draco's stomach churned at the thought. The boy was the bane of Draco's existence. At every turn, the Golden Boy found a way to show the Slytherin up. What was worse, was that Draco knew he wasn't even trying to. Everything came so easily to him, he couldn't fail.

With every ounce of his being, Draco Malfoy despised Harry Potter. He was also very certain the feeling was mutual.

His father knew of Draco's rivalry with Potter and had in fact done very little to discourage it. Apparently though, he had not mentioned it to Lord Voldemort. Either that or Voldemort was extremely confident in the charm and power of persuasion that ran through the Malfoy bloodline. Being part Veela had its advantages, but Draco was sure it would take more than that to win the Gryffindor over.

Even if Draco could separate Potter long enough away from those Weasel and Mudblood friends of his to speak with him, what would he say? He had offered his hand in friendship to Potter once before and had it slapped away. After all that had happened over the years, why would he do anything but the same?

It was possible that Potter might accept a truce if offered it, but Draco would have to back up his words with action to make them believable. If he changed too suddenly it would most certainly seem too suspicious and then he would never be able to gain Potter's trust.

Draco dropped his head into his hands and let out a frustrated moan. 'Why me?' The question rang through his head. 'Why did Lord Voldemort have to choose me for this mission? Surely there must have been some other student whose family was allegiant to him, that he could have used." But as Draco thought on this, he realized those other students included Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The idea of either of those two somehow infiltrating the ranks of Potter's followers, caused an uncomely snort to emerge from his throat. 'No,' he thought resignedly, 'It had to be me.'

Later that day, Draco found himself riding in a horseless carriage. He sighed discontentedly as it rolled to a halt in front of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Pansy, who sat across from him, glanced at Draco curiously. Oblivious to her, as he had been on the whole trip there, Draco stepped out of the carriage. The night was cool and his breath carried across the air in a wisp of white. Grey clouds hung ominously above him.

Ahead of him, he caught his first glance at the boy he had been contemplating all day. He was climbing up the stone steps to the school, accompanied by a frizzy haired girl and a redheaded boy. They were laughing and looked so very happy together that Draco felt something like a pang of jealousy. But since that idea was so completely absurd, Draco quickly dismissed it.

Without a backward glance at his Slytherin companions, he followed up the steps, through the large doorway and headed toward the Great Hall.

When he reached the Slytherin table he sat down heavily onto his seat, resigned to an hour of tedious boredom. After the first years had lined up and the sorting began, Draco's gaze drifted toward the Gryffindor table. The entire table sat in rapt attention to the proceedings, cheering out whenever the hat shouted their house name. Draco barely spared a glance whenever a new Slytherin was announced. Considering he never associated with underclassmen, it didn't seem important.

He glanced over at the staff table where the teachers sat and did a double take. Two spaces down from Dumbledore, next to Professor McGonagall, sat Draco's third year Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Draco was surprised, to say the least, to see the were-wolf had returned for another year. It was lucky that Draco had more pressing matters on his mind or he would have very vocally protested being taught by such a lowly creature for another year. 'Mudbloods and Purebloods being taught together by were-wolves and giants. And all because of a muggle loving fool. This school really has gone to the dogs.' Draco sent a heated glance towards the headmaster and it was then that he spotted it.

His first thought was 'Grim!' until he saw Dumbledore surreptitiously handing it a snack under the table and it wagged its tail. Draco's features twisted into a mixture of amusement and disgust. 'Figures,' thought Draco, 'Today is turning out to be nothing more than a gigantic joke on me. I wonder when I'll wake up from this nightmare.' Draco sighed and glanced around the table at his classmates, none of whom seemed to have noticed the unusual animal yet.

His eyes shifted back to the Gryffindor table, settling on Potter as he leaned over and whispered something to Granger, who nodded her head. Messy black hair obscured the lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead and bright green eyes twinkled behind his glasses, as he smiled.

Draco prided himself on his cunning, but even after spending an entire day thinking, he was no closer to coming up with a plan to beguile his long-time rival. He had a little over three months to succeed in Voldemort's scheme. Whatever the Dark Lord had planned, it would happen over winter break.

It irked Draco that Voldemort wouldn't disclose any of the details of his plan to him. He had questioned his father about it later, but he had only said that it wasn't important for Draco to know and that he only needed to follow through on his part. The way he had explained this though, through clenched teeth, suggested to Draco that Lucius had not been informed either.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco hadn't noticed Harry turn his way until it was too late. Green eyes locked onto grey and stared at him suspiciously. Draco quickly covered his surprise at being caught staring, but kept his usual sneer from appearing. If he was ever going to succeed, he was going to have to force himself from falling into old habits. Keeping his face neutral, he raised a thin eyebrow. Harry's eyes narrowed and Draco shrugged in response, looking away. Even as he watched the newest Hufflepuff bound down from the stool happily, Draco could feel Potter's glare burn into his flesh.

'Nope,' thought Draco sarcastically to himself, 'Getting Harry Potter to forget the past four years isn't going to be difficult at all.'

That night Draco tossed and turned, twisting his sheets and blankets around him. He growled in frustration and clamped his hands over his ears, trying to drown out his own thoughts. He cursed Voldemort for giving him this task and cursed his father for ever bringing him to that monster.

Just thinking of those red eyes and snake-like features made his skin crawl. The first time Draco had found out he was going to meet Lord Voldemort he'd been excited, eager even. Just the name Voldemort instilled fear in people and fear was power. The same kind of power his father had always taught him to seek.

At first Draco thought he was to receive the Dark Mark, but after being led into his father's study room, he discovered that Voldemort only wanted to inspect him. To see if he really was Death Eater material, like his father had praised him to be (and was Draco ever surprised to hear that). But when Voldemort had stepped closer to Draco and his face became illuminated, Draco knew fear like he had never felt since his first year, during a rather unforgettable outing into the Forbidden Forest. Only years of conditioning, studying the dark arts, and experience with frightening beasts (mostly thanks to Care of Magical Creatures) had kept him from running screaming from the room. He almost wished he had when the Dark Lord raised his hand and touched Draco's cheek. It had felt cold and rough against his skin and he had to swallow back the bile that had risen in his throat.

Voldemort may have once been a man, but whatever that creature was, it was not human. It was vile and it was evil.

Before that night, Draco had never believed in evil. He believed in power. But after witnessing what he had, he could no longer deny it. For evil was a living, breathing demon and it went by the name of Lord Voldemort.

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