PART FOUR

Draco's Account

CHAPTER SEVEN: Past, Present and Future

I didn't know what to say or think when Hermione told me she had cancer and would live no more than a month. And, when I told her I loved her and she said to me that she had told me not to fall in love with her, I think everything inside me shattered. I felt like I had lost everything. A sudden, wave of emotion had swept over me, I had never felt before and it scared me, it really scared me.

I have never experienced love, there is no love in my household, and my parents don't love each other, my mother cares about me because my father forces her to. My father has no love or compassion for anyone except - maybe, Lord Voldemort.

Ever since I was born, I was taught cruel spells, spells to kill, spells to torture, spells of pain and agony. I was only taught the cruel way of life and I guess that was how I was brought up to be so cruel, so cold, so dominating, never understanding how much I had hurt others, so heartless, so numb - I never felt pain; I had no feelings.

As I come to think of it, I never had anything against Mudbloods; my father dominated me, influenced me, persuaded me to hate them, despise them and taught me how to hurt them. Potter - I don't think I hate him, exactly, but I don't exactly like him or dislike him, I think the only thing I have against him is that he turned my hand of friendship towards him, down. Then again, I'm not surprised - I was such a horrible, hypocritical, cold, mean, exceptionally cruel child.

My father threatened me that I was to turn Potter to the dark side because he had such power, or if I failed that, then I was to beat him, be the best in everything - money, wealth, looks, popularity, fame and power. But - I failed in both these things and for that, I was severely beaten. Down in the dungeons, I was left there for days without food or water. It was horrible; I was so positive and sure that I was going to die, but one morning I woke up in my bed a flannel on my forehead and a pair of huge eyes staring at me, that was the house-elf, trying to force some soup into my system.

My father would never let me die, he relies on me too much to carry on his work for Lord Voldemort after he dies...but he will give me torture, agony and pain.

So, when I refused to join the death-eaters, I was in deep trouble; I was locked in the dungeons, beaten and whipped every morning and night and was given no food for a whole week. It was even worse than when I failed with Potter and was beaten; the summer after I had finished my first year at Hogwarts, I was still only eleven then, turning twelve in three months time. This all happened during the summer before I started my seventh year.

While I was down there, I realized how heartless and cruel my father was and I was growing up to be just like him. I would not give into him this time - he would not force me to become a death-eater, I had no wish to be dominated and ruled over in my life once again, I had, had enough with my father, I would not give in, no matter what, this time. I thought, when I go back to school, I will be head-boy and I will become my own person - no longer controlled, I will be at least nice to Hermione for she was head-girl and deep inside, I knew I didn't really despise her.

I knew that there would be hell to pay for my actions but come to think of it, I didn't think there could be anything else worse than down in the dungeons - that was hell enough and my father had punished me with all he could during those long, endless days. But - I was wrong, my father came to hurt Hermione as well as me.

If you ever want to tear someone apart, just hurt the ones they love most. Then you'll give in to anything. And, I am close to giving in to father if he hurts Hermione again. It isn't fair for Hermione to share my pain. Not any of this is her fault; I brought this on her. I am prepared to do anything to protect Hermione, imagine - all those years ago, I would have laughed at myself in the future forever defending a Mudblood! Who would have ever known that this was my future - that this was what my future held? Nothing at all like my past, I would have never guessed. It's funny how life turns suddenly at a corner, leaving you with the unexpected.

'Hey, Potter!' I called.

Potter walked over, 'What do you want Malfoy?'

'Hermione doesn't know this, but could we call a truce for her sake, I've changed, I'm not as evil as I use to be, I'm not the old Draco Malfoy.'

I think he heard the sincerity in my voice because he smiled.

'Yes, I see you've changed, how or why, I won't ask, but, yes, we should do this for Hermione's sake, she really likes you, I never knew why...but I can see why now.'

Potter held out his hand, and I took it.

'But, from now on it's Harry, not Potter - and I'll call you Draco.'

'Deal,' and I smiled, my first smile after all the events in the last week, and Harry was still holding my hand.

Then, the Weasel came striding towards us and snatched Harry's hand away from mine.

'Harry, have you gone totally mad? You are making contact with the enemy,' stressing the word enemy.

Harry smiled at me, 'We are friends, Ron.'

'Friends?' Ron said, tapping Harry on the head, 'Have you gone crazy?'

Harry brushed Weasley's hand away, 'No, Ron, I'm not mad, Draco and I are friends for Hermione's sake, he's changed, you should be his friend too.'

'No way!'

Weasley stalked off, and Harry turned to me and shrugged. I shrugged back; there was no pleasing some people.