Draco helped himself to another muffin. He had stayed up late last night,
working on Arithmacy. He was pleased with the fact that not only had he
finished the assignment but done some further research and found another
meaning to the charts. Pleased with himself, he sat contently at the
Slytherin table, aware that Pansy had not yet arrived and no one was
concentrating on him, so he could relax.
As he chewed his muffin, his eyes flittered to the Gryfindor Table. They all looked so happy just to be alive, and enjoying each other's company, sure that no matter what would come in the future, they would always have happy memories of their time at Hogwarts.
He was drawn to Hermione. She was a part of the trio, but she seemed more sensible. He knew she was top in all her classes. He would love to test her in Arithmacy, but he had it with the Hufflepuffs and her with the Ravenclaws.
With an acute sense for when she was being watched, Hermione scanned the hall for the eyes that had stayed so long on her form. They reached Draco's. He could read no emotion in them, see no thoughts on her face. Anger rushed up inside him. Why wouldn't she turn away? Why did she have to hold his gaze? She was judging him. Making assumptions because of his name.
Suddenly, he stood up, ignoring the calculating glances of the other Slytherins that were meant to appear caring, and the suspicious glares from the other three houses, sure that he was off to go do something evil. Would he ever be free of his reputation? Would he ever just be able to go and come as he pleased, not watched and followed at every turn?
He thudded through the halls in a temper. They had no right to judge him. They didn't care. They just wanted to label him a death eater and ship him into exile. They didn't know what he had been through. The angry words, the beatings. Seeing his mother...
He thrust it out of his mind. "They can go to hell" he told himself savagely. But another voice spoke up. "That's where you're going if you keep this up."
Snarling, he smashed his fist into the wall, but ended up with nothing more that bleeding knuckles. He needed to do something. No matter what he thought of them, he couldn't let them die. He couldn't let his father's plan be put into motion. It was something he hadn't even entrusted to him, so it must be bad. He had to do something. Anything.
Slumping against the wall, he ran the options through his head. But none of them would work. Not matter what he tried, his father would find out, and Lucius was not a man to mess with. He would know immediately if his son was getting in his way, and then Draco's life wouldn't be worth living.
Snape floated into the chaos of his thoughts. Draco had known he was a spy ever since he had overheard a conversation he had had with Dumbledore. But that information he had kept to himself. He hadn't known why, but he didn't want to tell his father that the surly old man was fighting for the other side. But know he knew. Snape was right. What good was working for some half-blood freak who demanded your total loyalty. What good was killing people because they had parents different than yours.
Draco decided to go to him. He would know what to do. He would help him. Draco wasn't going to kid himself. He knew Lucius would have no regrets about killing him if he found out he didn't want to follow in his footsteps. Becoming a spy would be dangerous, but it would be worth it. To see his father and Voldemort go down would be worth anything. Even his life.
Standing back up, he resumed walking down the hall- this time with purpose in his step, making his way to Snape's office. The Potions Master never stayed at the dinner long. He should be there by now.
* * * A/N: How's that? I was worried it might be going to quickly, but it seemed to work. Please review and tell me what you think!
As he chewed his muffin, his eyes flittered to the Gryfindor Table. They all looked so happy just to be alive, and enjoying each other's company, sure that no matter what would come in the future, they would always have happy memories of their time at Hogwarts.
He was drawn to Hermione. She was a part of the trio, but she seemed more sensible. He knew she was top in all her classes. He would love to test her in Arithmacy, but he had it with the Hufflepuffs and her with the Ravenclaws.
With an acute sense for when she was being watched, Hermione scanned the hall for the eyes that had stayed so long on her form. They reached Draco's. He could read no emotion in them, see no thoughts on her face. Anger rushed up inside him. Why wouldn't she turn away? Why did she have to hold his gaze? She was judging him. Making assumptions because of his name.
Suddenly, he stood up, ignoring the calculating glances of the other Slytherins that were meant to appear caring, and the suspicious glares from the other three houses, sure that he was off to go do something evil. Would he ever be free of his reputation? Would he ever just be able to go and come as he pleased, not watched and followed at every turn?
He thudded through the halls in a temper. They had no right to judge him. They didn't care. They just wanted to label him a death eater and ship him into exile. They didn't know what he had been through. The angry words, the beatings. Seeing his mother...
He thrust it out of his mind. "They can go to hell" he told himself savagely. But another voice spoke up. "That's where you're going if you keep this up."
Snarling, he smashed his fist into the wall, but ended up with nothing more that bleeding knuckles. He needed to do something. No matter what he thought of them, he couldn't let them die. He couldn't let his father's plan be put into motion. It was something he hadn't even entrusted to him, so it must be bad. He had to do something. Anything.
Slumping against the wall, he ran the options through his head. But none of them would work. Not matter what he tried, his father would find out, and Lucius was not a man to mess with. He would know immediately if his son was getting in his way, and then Draco's life wouldn't be worth living.
Snape floated into the chaos of his thoughts. Draco had known he was a spy ever since he had overheard a conversation he had had with Dumbledore. But that information he had kept to himself. He hadn't known why, but he didn't want to tell his father that the surly old man was fighting for the other side. But know he knew. Snape was right. What good was working for some half-blood freak who demanded your total loyalty. What good was killing people because they had parents different than yours.
Draco decided to go to him. He would know what to do. He would help him. Draco wasn't going to kid himself. He knew Lucius would have no regrets about killing him if he found out he didn't want to follow in his footsteps. Becoming a spy would be dangerous, but it would be worth it. To see his father and Voldemort go down would be worth anything. Even his life.
Standing back up, he resumed walking down the hall- this time with purpose in his step, making his way to Snape's office. The Potions Master never stayed at the dinner long. He should be there by now.
* * * A/N: How's that? I was worried it might be going to quickly, but it seemed to work. Please review and tell me what you think!