There was silence in the great house as everyone slept soundly. The only
sound, was the owls outside, hooting softly, and the portraits on the
walls, snoozing in their frames. But suddenly, the silence was broken by an
ear splitting yell.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the voice of the Malfoy's sixteen year old son, Draco echoed through the house like a thousand yells.
He was sat bolt upright in his bed, his face paler than usual and his pale blue eyes wide open. His breathing was in short, sharp gasps and his heart was beating horribly fast. He raised a trembling hand to his face and felt tears splashed across his cheeks. He quickly wiped his eyes and face, and stared into the mirror opposite his bed, his breathing returning to normal. It had been a nightmare, he told himself. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real. But it had felt real.
He heard footsteps approaching his room swiftly and the door burst open. His mother walked in first, hurrying over to him, and her face alert with worry. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"Oh, Draco," she said worriedly.
"What's wrong, darling?" Draco pushed his mother away gently and began to get back into bed.
"It's nothing, mother, just another nightmare. That's all." He smiled at her and laid his head back on the pillow, trying to ignore the cold sweat growing up around the back of his neck. His mother's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his blonde hair unnecessarily.
"Ok, my darling, just try and sleep." She got up and as she walked past Draco's father, she looked at him for a second and began crying once more, her sobs echoing down the hall. Lucius Malfoy looked at his son for a moment, smiled sadly and walked out after his mother. He knew why they were both so upset. His father had told Draco two nights ago what Voldemort wanted to do with him. Lord Voldemort wanted to use him, Draco, to kill someone. His father hadn't told him who, but only that he must do as Voldemort wished or he would be killed, as would Draco and Draco's mother.
Draco had been having nightmares ever since he had been told. The one he had just had had definitely been the worst. He had been in the Hogwarts Entrance Hall and he had seen Professor Sprout, she had asked him what he was doing out so late at night, and he had Stunned her. He then walked up the stairs and saw no one about; it must have been at night. He went on up, silently, and reached a large portrait of a large lady in a pink dress. She seemed to wake up from a sleep, and asked him drowsily for the password; he had given it to her. He walked into a room littered with armchairs and squishy chairs, and looked around. He saw a large Gryffindor flag draped across one of the walls; this must be the Gryffindor Common Room and he must have been in Gryffindor Tower. He walked on up some stairs and found himself walking through a door, into a room of beds; the boys dormitories. He was walking over to the bed furthest from him and as he approached it, he saw Harry Potter lying asleep in his bed. He took his wand out and pointed it directly at Harry.
Suddenly, Harry had ripped open his eyes and stared at Draco, then he grabbed his arm. It all happened in a flash of red light; Draco had been jerked forward and thrust into a bright red light, he jammed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he noticed he was in a graveyard and it was night time. He suddenly felt a searing pain run down a line on his forehead, it was almost unbearable, the pain was white hot and it was pummelling against his head. He felt a long white finger touch his cheek and the pain intensified; he was screaming now. He turned his head slowly to look at the owner of the finger and fear shot through his body as he saw the face come into focus. Lord Voldemort was laughing in his high, cold voice.
Then he had woken up. He had never been in so much pain; he had never been so scared. It was just a nightmare, he repeated to himself. But it hadn't just been a nightmare; he had seen what Harry Potter must have seen, must have been through. And now, his father wanted him to kill someone on Voldemort's orders. To murder somebody. Draco had never killed anybody, he didn't want to, he wouldn't have minded torturing a few of the people he hated when he was older, but never kill anybody. Not now at least. He blocked these thoughts from his mind, and slowly, very slowly fell asleep once more.
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"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the voice of the Malfoy's sixteen year old son, Draco echoed through the house like a thousand yells.
He was sat bolt upright in his bed, his face paler than usual and his pale blue eyes wide open. His breathing was in short, sharp gasps and his heart was beating horribly fast. He raised a trembling hand to his face and felt tears splashed across his cheeks. He quickly wiped his eyes and face, and stared into the mirror opposite his bed, his breathing returning to normal. It had been a nightmare, he told himself. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real. But it had felt real.
He heard footsteps approaching his room swiftly and the door burst open. His mother walked in first, hurrying over to him, and her face alert with worry. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"Oh, Draco," she said worriedly.
"What's wrong, darling?" Draco pushed his mother away gently and began to get back into bed.
"It's nothing, mother, just another nightmare. That's all." He smiled at her and laid his head back on the pillow, trying to ignore the cold sweat growing up around the back of his neck. His mother's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his blonde hair unnecessarily.
"Ok, my darling, just try and sleep." She got up and as she walked past Draco's father, she looked at him for a second and began crying once more, her sobs echoing down the hall. Lucius Malfoy looked at his son for a moment, smiled sadly and walked out after his mother. He knew why they were both so upset. His father had told Draco two nights ago what Voldemort wanted to do with him. Lord Voldemort wanted to use him, Draco, to kill someone. His father hadn't told him who, but only that he must do as Voldemort wished or he would be killed, as would Draco and Draco's mother.
Draco had been having nightmares ever since he had been told. The one he had just had had definitely been the worst. He had been in the Hogwarts Entrance Hall and he had seen Professor Sprout, she had asked him what he was doing out so late at night, and he had Stunned her. He then walked up the stairs and saw no one about; it must have been at night. He went on up, silently, and reached a large portrait of a large lady in a pink dress. She seemed to wake up from a sleep, and asked him drowsily for the password; he had given it to her. He walked into a room littered with armchairs and squishy chairs, and looked around. He saw a large Gryffindor flag draped across one of the walls; this must be the Gryffindor Common Room and he must have been in Gryffindor Tower. He walked on up some stairs and found himself walking through a door, into a room of beds; the boys dormitories. He was walking over to the bed furthest from him and as he approached it, he saw Harry Potter lying asleep in his bed. He took his wand out and pointed it directly at Harry.
Suddenly, Harry had ripped open his eyes and stared at Draco, then he grabbed his arm. It all happened in a flash of red light; Draco had been jerked forward and thrust into a bright red light, he jammed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he noticed he was in a graveyard and it was night time. He suddenly felt a searing pain run down a line on his forehead, it was almost unbearable, the pain was white hot and it was pummelling against his head. He felt a long white finger touch his cheek and the pain intensified; he was screaming now. He turned his head slowly to look at the owner of the finger and fear shot through his body as he saw the face come into focus. Lord Voldemort was laughing in his high, cold voice.
Then he had woken up. He had never been in so much pain; he had never been so scared. It was just a nightmare, he repeated to himself. But it hadn't just been a nightmare; he had seen what Harry Potter must have seen, must have been through. And now, his father wanted him to kill someone on Voldemort's orders. To murder somebody. Draco had never killed anybody, he didn't want to, he wouldn't have minded torturing a few of the people he hated when he was older, but never kill anybody. Not now at least. He blocked these thoughts from his mind, and slowly, very slowly fell asleep once more.
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