Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: Greetings! I know it's been one month and one day since I last updated, and a while since POA came out, but I said I wouldn't guarantee anything, so don't be too angry. Save the anger...for later. Anyway, this is THE chapter to read. I've planned and replanned this to perfection. I won't say enjoy it, because...er, just read the damn chapter. You'll see.

I believe someone asked why Draco could use magic while not at school. (If someone didn't, and I'm just imagining someone did, I'm sure some of you have wondered, so I'll put your minds to rest anyway) Draco is able to do magic at Malfoy Manor. With all the dark magic the Malfoy family has been involved with throughout the generations, I'm sure the place's magic is somehow untraceable, so that's how Draco is able to do it. (Did I get untraceable magic from canon? I can't even remember, that's how much fan fic I read)

And, as usual, thank you so much for all your reviews!! I love you all!! I'm going to TRY to update as soon as possible, try' being the key word there. But who knows, maybe I'll surprise you all and update...tomorrow?? (Yea, okay...)

The Pain Within
Chapter 24: Hatred

Draco examined the room he now occupied. He recognized it as his childhood nursery; smaller, but filled with tall windows to let in a large amount of sunlight. No one had entered this room since his early years. Instead of the dusty and forlorn appearance one would think a dozen years of abandonment would produce, the room looked as if it was still being utilized at that very moment. In fact, as Draco turned his head away from the window's view of the starry night sky, he saw that his old crib indeed held a young child. Upon closer inspection, he realized the child had a head of dark hair, and thus was not himself. The moonlight illuminated the young child's skin and its peaceful sleeping form, a small thumb gradually falling out of a drool-filled mouth. Draco tried to understand who this child was and what it was doing in his old nursery, but could make no sense of the situation. Suddenly, unfamiliar voices rang out down the hall. Laced with fear and panic, and escalating in volume, the voices woke the young boy in Draco's crib. Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He knew those eyes.

A young woman who closely resembled Ginny Weasley burst into the room, and her little boy climbed to his feet in Draco's crib to greet her. She was a petite woman with fair features, and she hurriedly picked up the boy in her trembling arms and held him close to her. A young man's voice yelled to her.

Quick, Lily! They're here, I'll distract them. Take Harry and get out!

A door on a lower floor was blasted open and the sounds of a scuffle ensued. A bright green light filled Draco's vision, and all indications of the scuffle abruptly ended. The woman gasped and a pained whisper escaped her lips as tears filled bright green eyes identical to her son's.



With Harry still in arms, she rushed to close the door. Heavy footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs. Before the woman had the chance to escape, Draco's nursery door was blast open. She shrieked and ran past Draco to the far corner of the room, sinking down to her knees and clutching Harry close. Draco watched her as the looming shadow of a hooded figure drew near.

Please, not Harry. Take me, don't hurt Harry. Don't kill my baby, she whimpered. Little Harry began to cry and buried his face in her tresses of red hair. She gently caressed his unruly black hair.

Move away, silly girl, a cold voice ordered.

Draco froze. He knew that voice.

He watched as neither the man nor young woman did anything. Growing impatient, Draco tried to nudge Harry's mother to get her to leave while there was still time to escape. At first his hand went right through her.

Come on, he urged. You can still leave.

She lifted her head to stare at the man in front of her, unaware of Draco's presence.

Don't hurt him, please. Take me instead. Take me! her hoarse voice pleaded. Not him, take me. Please.

The man let out a harsh laugh and raised his wand, the tip aimed directly at her forehead.

Draco tried to nudge her again, and this time his hand did not pass through her completely. He furrowed his eyebrows. As his nudging continued, her shoulder became more solid. Shocked, Draco pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. She continued to whimper and plead, her voice undergoing an odd change not entirely unpleasant; it just developed into a different voice altogether.

Not my baby, please. Don't hurt him, he doesn't deserve this. Take me instead.

Draco's eyes widened as her luminous red hair slowly evolved into a golden honey and her skin to hue a few degrees paler. The few light freckles that were sprinkled across her cheeks and her small nose disappeared. Her entire body seemed to become a fraction more fragile, and the small hand that had been stroking Harry's head became long and slender with neatly manicured nails. Draco watched in horrified recognition as Harry's unruly black curls transformed into straight silky blond strands that he knew all too well.

The man began the first word to the fatal curse.

Lily Potter's vivid green eyes faded to a pale blue with which Draco was quite familiar.

Take me! Please! Don't take my baby. Don't take my Draco.

There was a brilliant green flash and malicious laughter, and Draco woke up in a heavy sweat.

Later that morning, at a more decent hour, Draco sat on his balcony in his pajamas overlooking the Malfoy estate. A wooden easel stood tall next to him as he watched the morning sun spread its warm beams over the hills and the tree tops and the prized Malfoy rose garden. The irritating noise of birds chirping reached his ears as he swiftly swept his paintbrush all over the crisp white canvas. He bit his lip in concentration. A loud knock at his door startled him and, mumbling something, he rose out of his seat to answer the visitor.

After closing the door rudely on the house elf, Draco retrieved his wand and muttering a few spells, he was quickly dressed in a pair of pants and a shirt and his hair looked neater. Opening his closet, he slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed a robe to wear over his clothes. Glancing at the balcony, he dragged the easel and canvas inside his room. The weather may be pleasant now, but who knows what could happen later. Checking himself once more in his full length mirror, he headed downstairs for breakfast where his presence was requested by his parents.

He formally greeted both his parents and sat down as food began to appear on their plates. He received a reply from his mother, but none from Lucius who had his head stuck in the Daily Prophet. Draco drank his coffee and silently speared his French toast before drenching each piece in syrup.

Well, it seems the Ministry is in quite a frenzy at the moment, Lucius remarked to no one in particular. There's a lot of confusion and mayhem running rampant.

Narcissa dabbed at her mouth. That's good, Lucius. The more chaos transpiring in the Ministry means less effective administration.

Lucius closed the newspaper. That was my point, Narcissa. He finally acknowledged Draco with a glare. Draco, I am meeting associates in Hogsmeade today. As soon as I return, you have more practicing to continue, do you hear me?

Draco nodded. Yes, Father. I shall be ready.

Lucius threw his soiled napkin on his plate and stood. he replied, pushing his chair back from the table. See to it that you are.

He stalked from the table and Draco glared at his retreating form. The roar of the floo system was heard along with the distant order of The Hog's Head! and then the house plunged into silence.

Narcissa warned.

Draco glanced at her. Yes, Mum?

She applied butter to a warm croissant. You know what. Don't openly defy him like that. What if he had turned around and caught you?

Draco shrugged and popped a sausage link in his mouth.

I swear, sometimes you don't think before you act.

Draco glared indignantly, and continued eating his breakfast. Narcissa just raised an eyebrow at her petulant son as she took a delicate bite of her croissant and then placed it on her deep green linen napkin while she chewed. She folded the half eaten croissant neatly in the napkin and stood from her seat, brushing any crumbs off of her lap. Her son glanced up from his dish at her. He swallowed his food hastily as he saw her preparing to leave.

Where are you going? he questioned, frowning.

She placed her utensils on her plate to signal that she was finished so her dishes could be cleared away by a house elf.

I'm going to read in my study for a while. Mrs. Parkinson sent me a slew of novels that I simply must read'. Although her taste differs greatly from mine, on occasion she does recommend an interesting read, she replied, shrugging. She leaned across the table in a conspiring manner.

And besides, she tends to be very irritating when I can't point out specific details or scenes from the novels she sends to me. It's easier to just read the bloody things than listen to her complain about how I should have read the exquisite pieces of literature' she sends.

Draco grinned. Like mother, like daughter. They're both annoying wenches.

Narcissa scolded, swatting at his arm. Be nice.

He looked at her innocently. Mother, I have no idea what you are on about. I am always nice.

Narcissa laughed as she approached the dining room entrance. Yes, and I am the Queen of England.

Meaning Lucius is king? Merlin help us all, Draco muttered, buttering his own croissant.

His mother paused and turned. Be careful when you're around him, alright, sweetheart? Please?

Draco sighed and nodded. Smiling back in encouragement, Narcissa exited the room.

Draco watched her leave. Seeing her and chatting with her reminded him of his extremely vivid dream. The transformation of Lily Potter into Narcissa Malfoy had been creepy, but watching the former's bright emerald green eyes fade into the latter's sky blue eyes had made the dream so much more real. The fear and desperation that screamed at him from those eyes scared him shitless, as did the possible meanings of the dream. He refused to think about those though; it just couldn't (and wouldn't, if he had anything to do with it) happen.

He growled to himself as his mind once again wandered into that dangerous territory. He angrily pushed his chair away from the table and stood abruptly. Throwing his napkin on top of his plate, he stormed up to his room to retrieve his broom to blow off some steam and fear in the sunny weather.

For quicker reflexes, he zipped around the many towers and steeples of Malfoy Manor, executing various dangerous twists and turns. The need to avoid pulverization through contact with a hard stone structure kept him alert and determined. After this, dodging bludgers should be a piece of cake. After shooting out from behind the northern wing of the manor, he flew lazily over the expansive green gardens before turning to complete the maze among the towers again. A gentle breeze fluttered through the air and Draco paused to rake his fingers through his sweaty hair and enjoy the breeze. I should have worn a lighter robe, he mused. Shrugging, he glanced down before preparing to accelerate speed. A little house elf was waving up at him and squeaking something loudly. Rolling his eyes, Draco slowly descended. Lucius was back.

Young Master Malfoy! Young Master Malfoy!! it called, out of breath from jumping around trying to get its young master's attention.

Draco replied as his feet touched the ground.

Master Malfoy is home, sir, and wants to see young master in his study. Master Malfoy says it's very important, sir. And to be prompt, sir.

Draco nodded, knowing what was in store for him. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself to straighten his robes and rinse the sweat from his body. He handed his broom to the house elf and ordered it to return it to its proper place. Then, holding his head up, he entered the house and traveled to Lucius' study.

The fire was roaring angrily as he entered. Lucius was sitting nonchalantly in his high backed seat, regally sipping wine. Draco waited until he was addressed.

Didn't the damn house elf tell you to be prompt?

I had to clean up a bit, Father. I was sweaty from flying.

Lucius turned and pursed his lips. Lot of good it will do you. You still cannot manage to beat Potter.

Draco said nothing, but he fumed inwardly.

Lucius watched his son. Well, what are we waiting for? You must practice the Cruciatus today. Tell me, what is the key to a successful Cruciatus?

Draco replied. The stronger the hatred, the more powerful the curse.

Lucius rested his chin on his hand. Mmm. What else?

One has to mean it for it to work. If an individual who has no desire to use it on someone says the incantation, nothing significant will happen.

Draco felt like he was reciting information from a book. He probably was. Lucius nodded. Then, as if he was remembering something, he smirked. It faded as quickly as it appeared, and the cold man glared at his son.

Yes. You know the components of a successful Cruciatus, but can you cast one? he raised an eyebrow.

Draco watched as the little house elf from the previous day's practice scrambled into the room.

Yes, Master Malfoy? What can Posey gets for sir?

Nothing, just be quiet, Lucius barked. He eyed Draco. Go ahead.

Draco reached into his robe and extracted his wand. He pointed it at the trembling creature.



The house elf fell to the ground, twitching and squeaking uncontrollably. Draco held his wand steady and tried not to be affected by its weak squeaks.



Draco lowered his wand and turned his attention to his father.

Draco, that was the most pathetic attempt at the Cruciatus I have ever seen. The bloody thing should be screaming for its life. Do it again.

Draco nodded and pointed his wand again.

This time, the house elf began screeching in pain and tried to stop itself from jerking around violently on the floor. Draco inwardly nodded. That should satisfy his father.

Draco! Stop.

Or not.

Lowering his wand, Draco looked at his father again. The man peered at him with callous steel eyes.

Draco, you truly disgust me. You're not putting any effort into this. The Dark Lord will not let you get away with weak attempts like these. Muggles must be tortured, not merely slapped on the wrist so to speak. Do it again. And this time, do it right.

Draco gritted his teeth and pointed his wand. Maybe the fact that he didn't want to torture a stupid house elf was the reason his curse wasn't that strong. Concentrate, he told himself. Concentrate on meaning to do this, on hatred..



The house elf began to quiver in spasms against the floor, shrieking each time its limbs were pulled in two different directions by the spell. Draco inwardly repeated a mantra to himself.

I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate..



Draco's wand fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. He bit his lip as he fell to the ground.

You deplorable excuse for a wizard! Do you or do you not want to please the Dark Lord? Because from your display thus far, you are far from pleasing him. I am ashamed of these pitiful attempts. Have I taught you nothing? You are not putting any effort into this at all.

Lucius cruelly kicked his convulsing son in the stomach. Draco couldn't help but emit a small whimper.

That damn house elf should be bloody convulsing and writhing on the floor like you are, and should be screaming for its life. Like you want to, you little bastard, Lucius hissed.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and tried his damnedest not to scream. He refused to give his father the satisfaction. But, the pain...blinding, white hot, almost electric...intolerable...he didn't know how much more he would be able to endure. Suddenly everything was fading, as his head continued to pound into the floor every so often. Far away, he heard his father's cruel voice call in house elves.

Get him out of my sight. Now. Just get him out. I will send for him later, to...practice more, the fading voice declared maliciously.

A few hours later Draco woke in his room, a painful headache hammering at his skull. He raised a hand to rest it on his forehead, as if pressure would force the pain away. He wasn't planning on opening his eyes until a house elf addressed him.

Young Master Malfoy, is you awake? Dil has potion that makes your head hurts no more.

Draco slowly opened his eyes and focused them on the concerned house elf standing on a chair next to his bed. He began to pull himself into a sitting position, but the house elf snapped his fingers and the pillows below his head fluffed until his head was in a position that he could accept drinks without choking. The house elf handed him a glass filled with an amber colored liquid and he downed it as quickly as possible. He didn't even question what it was. As long as it stopped the bludgers in his head, he didn't give a shit. Like most potions, this one worked quite fast. However, it didn't stop his sore joints from protesting as he sat up nor did it soothe his aching body.

Does young sir want something to eat? Or anything to drink?

Draco shook his head and winced as he shifted his weight on the bed. I'm fine. I'll take some privacy though.

The creature bowed and scurried out the door, closing it behind him. Draco sighed and glanced around his room. His eyes landed on his trunk, and he gingerly climbed out of bed to hobble over to it. He let his fingers graze the leather surface, where Draco Malfoy was engraved in silver. He lifted his head and looked out his window at the darkening sky and bristling wind as it whipped through the trees. A storm, he thought bitterly. At least it reflects my mood. With no regards to his sore legs, he kicked his trunk as hard as he could, sending it into the wall behind it.

How dare he! How DARE he!! Draco fumed. How dare he treat me like that, how dare he call me names. How dare he....Draco walked out onto his balcony. He gripped the edge tightly as he tried to control his raging emotions. Hatred. Pain. Fear. Anger. Desperation. Thunder boomed and shook the earth below him, but he remained unaffected. Lightning illuminated the forest beyond the Malfoy estate, yet he solely concentrated on keeping calm. A few fat droplets of water hit the floor of the balcony. In the matter of a few minutes, Draco was standing in the midst of a torrential downpour. He lifted his head, eyes closed, and felt as the water beat down on his face. The water drenched his hair and dripped down his cheeks in rivulets, acid mixing with salt.

How dare I keep Mother in all this danger. How dare I risk the chance of my anger getting the better of me and revealing something. How dare I let this man, this monster, affect me like he does?

He stalked back inside his room and shut the balcony doors with a bang. He unlocked his trunk and unveiled its secret compartment. He withdrew the two-way mirror and fingered the edges and stared off into space, contemplating. He had the crucial information the Order needed. Professor Dumbledore had assured him that his mother would be safe. He no longer yearned to earn his father's love; the idea was impossible, unattainable. His father had no feelings, had no love. Now all Draco wanted was to protect his mother and himself.

Don't be too proud to come back here.

Draco eyed the mirror again as Harry's words echoed in his head. He took a deep breath and wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hands. A few things needed to be said before he went anywhere.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Draco slammed his trunk closed and shoved the mirror in the pocket of his pants. He rushed to open the door.

Draco, why the bloody hell are you soaking wet?

Draco looked his sneering father in the eye. I got caught in the rain, Father. I had to...save my easel before my painting got ruined, he lied.

Lucius rolled his eyes in disgust. Ugh, that foolish hobby of yours. Well, no more time for paintbrushes. We have more, he paused and smirked evilly, practicing to do.

Yes, sir, Draco replied, following his father down the hall.

Draco, you are loyal to the Dark Lord, correct? Lucius questioned.

Draco smirked behind his father's back. Of course, Father. Who else would I be loyal to? he asked. Harry Potter? Dumbledore?

He added a snort to demonstrate the absurdity of it all. His father must have bought the act, since he did not turn around. Lucius proceeded to lead the young blond through a series of hallways. It finally occurred to Draco that they had missed the staircase. Confusion settled over his face.

And in order to prove that loyalty, you would do anything?

Draco frowned and a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach.

Perfect. You should do just fine with your next practice then, Lucius mused.

Apprehension joined the foreboding in Draco's stomach. He didn't like his father's satisfied tone of voice. Overly pleasant and full of mockery, it was that tone of I know something you don't know'. Was Voldemort here? Was there a room full of innocent Muggles that he would have to kill? He looked around him as his mind raced with the possible sick ideas Lucius could conceive.

It was then that he realized they were in Narcissa's wing of the house.

Lucius approached her study and kicked open the door. Narcissa jumped, a hand to her heart, but she sighed and placed a bookmark in her novel and greeted her guests.

Hello, Draco, Lucius. You startled me. Did you need something?

Lucius smirked at her. Well, Draco, I have found an excellent way to both test your loyalty and practice the Killing Curse. I daresay I am quite clever. He turned to his son.

Kill her.

Draco's eyes widened. Across the room, Narcissa's identical ones did the same.

he spluttered, appalled.

You heard me, Draco. Your attachment to your mother must end. It is one of your many weaknesses, and, quite frankly, it annoys me. I want it to end. Kill her. Now.

Draco stared from his mother, whose gaze was glued to the floor, to his father, who had a satisfied smirk on his lips. Rage was silently boiling within him, mixed with a cup full of defiance and a teaspoon of fear.

Lucius placed a large hand on Draco's shoulder. Consider it your first assignment, Draco. You do not ignore assignments. You claimed you were loyal to the Dark Lord. Prove it, Draco. Kill her.

His gaze hardened. That's an order.

Draco stared helplessly at his mother's figure, hands clasped in her lap and head bowed, resigned to her fate. Draco glared back at Lucius.

Absolutely not.

Narcissa's head snapped up at the words, and Lucius narrowed his eyes. I didn't give you the choice, you insolent git. I told you to do it.

Draco shook his head and gripped his wand in his pocket. And I told you NO. She didn't do anything wrong. She's a pureblooded witch, not some damn disgusting Mudblood. If you think -

Draco! Just do it! For your own sake, Narcissa pleaded.

He stared at her. There is no way in hell I am killing you, Mum. Forget it.

Maybe you should listen to the stupid bitch, Lucius growled. It's the smartest thing she's said since accepting my proposal.

Forgetting the wand, Draco raised his fist and drove it right into his father's nose.

Don't you dare say those things about her. She's a wonderful woman and you're just too much of an arrogant, cold, bastard to realize that.

Lucius stumbled backwards into a glass cabinet that housed his mother's porcelain figurines. The cabinet shattered and glass and porcelain showered down on the elder Malfoy, causing cuts and bruises along with his bleeding nose. As soon as he was on his feet again, his wand was out and pointed at Draco.

You stupid, pathetic little son of a bitch! How DARE you speak to me like that! How DARE you raise your fist to me! How DARE you defy me like that! You forget your place. I am your father; how dare you treat me like this.

With a murmured incantation, Draco was thrown against the far wall. Narcissa shrieked and jumped from her seat to help her son, but a well aimed spell from Lucius sent her into the opposite wall. Plaster and bits of wallpaper rained down on both her and Draco. Draco ignored the pain and scrambled to his feet, whipping out his wand. It didn't matter that he was up against an experienced wizard, and a Death Eater at that. Anger and hatred would enable him to do anything.

he stated venomously. You are no human being, let alone a man, husband, or father. You deserve to rot in the deepest pit of hell.

Lucius' gray eyes turned dangerous.

You mother fucking piece of shit, he hissed. After all I have done for you, provided for you, given to you, this is how you repay me? With cruel words and brazen defiance? I should -

After all you've done for me? AFTER ALL YOU'VE DONE FOR ME?!? Draco interrupted, blinded by rage. All you have EVER done for me was beat me, and insult me, and tell me what a terrible person I was. How I disgusted you. How I made you ashamed. How I wasn't perfect. You constantly raped and beat my mother, who NEVER did anything to deserve it. You controlled my life, I was never allowed to make my own decisions. You treated your own family like the Muggles you torture and despise. You are despicable.

Lucius slowly advanced on Draco. Despicable, eh? I can show you despicable.

A flick of his wand brought Narcissa sprawled out in front of him, a few cuts and bruises on her body as well. Narcissa looked up at her husband with fear.



He smirked. On your knees, where you belong, bitch. I think I'm going to have to teach our son how to torture a human being properly. Do you mind helping, Love?



Lucius' body fell to the ground, convulsing and writhing violently along the hardwood floor. Draco rushed over and helped his mother to her feet. He kicked his father in the stomach.

Don't you dare speak to my mother like that.

The enraged elder Malfoy grabbed his wand and managed to shoot a spell at his embraced wife and son. Draco and Narcissa flew to opposite ends of the room again. Draco's Cruciatus Curse stopped and Lucius Malfoy got to his feet. He glared sinisterly at his son and wife who, fighting nausea and dizziness, both jumped to their feet anticipating more attack.

he cried. Narcissa's and Draco's wands flew into his hands. They looked at each other across the room, knowing they were in a bad situation.

Well, well, what have we here? Mother and son, wandless, with no way out. He pointed his wand. Either of you moves, I'll kill the other.

Narcissa and Draco froze in their spots, not wanting to risk the other's life. Lucius sneered.

How sweet. He looked at Draco. I told you to stop protecting her, Draco. But you didn't listen, did you? And now, because of your ignorance, you will never hear her speak again. I'm going to demonstrate how the Killing Curse works.

Draco cried and started to run toward his mother.



Draco froze in his spot, unable to move. He urged his legs to move, but they were rooted to the floor. His haunting dream came flooding back to him.

I hate you, he hissed. YOU EVIL BASTARD! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!

Lucius sneered malevolently at Draco. Say good-bye to your mother, Draco.

He aimed his wand.

Avada Kedavra.

A flash of bright green light filled the room, along with an ear-piercing scream of horror. It was soon replaced by the resounding sound of a lifeless body hitting the floor.

Cruel steel eyes locked with blazing blue ones.

Lucius Malfoy could only laugh.

A/N #2: [from a VERY deep hole FAR FAR away] Eep!! Don't hurt me! I didn't mean to kill anybody! Just review!! And please refrain from hurling heavy and/or metal objects at me.