A/N: This is a moderately long chapter. I'm not sure how much I like it, because it's really just filler. The events are mainly taken out of the sixth book, as well as the dialogue. I promise you that soon we'll get to more original Draco stuff. Seeing as how there's less of him as the book continues (not to mention, less important meetings between Draco and the Golden Trio). I will also manipulate a few things to add Ginny into it, but there will NOT be a Draco/Ginny romance until we get into the next year and post Hogwarts. I was also thinking of doing this story in two parts, as my story of his sixth year will be long enough. Tell me what you think, R&R (PLEASE!)
Disclaimer: I do not own Draco. I do not own the Golden Trio and I do not own any other characters, the original plot points or most ofthe conversations. I do, however, own Draco's personal thoughts and some of his actions. Don't sue me.
Chapter Two: The Beginning of the end
As I have said before, good and evil are far from cut and dry. I was happy that the Dark Lord trusted me with such a mission, but the more time I had to think about it, the more bleak my outlook seemed. At the tender age of sixteen, I didn't see the chances I had in completing such a quest. The excitement did not fade quickly. If anything, Slytherins are determined. I was dead-set on completing my duty for the lord. I was willing to go to hell and back to do what he asked of me. I would have laid my heart out on a platter for him and allowed him to eat it. Do not cringe at the imagery, for it is the honest truth. Little did I know that this task might just lead to that untimely death that I would give so gratefully to the Dark Lord.
I am sure you are asking yourself if I took on the mark that night. My answer would be no. Thankfully, as I don't know how I would live today with such an unsightly blemish on my skin. I was only sixteen, and considered too young for the mark. My soul could not have taken the burden and it would have broken, had I allowed the mark to pierce my skin. For my job though, it would have seemed imprudent to have it. It would have had to stay hidden for me to be in Hogwarts. Nothing could jeopardize the mission and there would have been consequences if someone were to discover the mark. So the Lord chose not to mark me. At the time I was upset, but I understood the need for me to seem pure.
Idealism is not a trait that you will find in most of Slytherin house. Over the years though, I have discovered that it does exist. It is in it's purest form when shown in a Slytherin child's willingness to die for the Dark Lord's cause. It may be a morbid form of idealism, but it was ever present.
I must explain something to you though. I may have confused you when I spoke of the lack of love in my home. I told you that my mother was left to coddle me, but do not mistake her affections for love. The woman showered me with gifts and praise. She treated me as any doting mother should. There was something lacking though, in the admiration that my mother shed on me. That is exactly what it was, admiration. There was no warmth in it and there was no sign of love. They were cold gifts from a cold woman. My mother gave me what she could. I truly believe that had we not been Malfoys and had she not been such the ideal Slytherin, there would have been love in my home. It would have been showered in abundance. Alas, those who never learn to love cannot love others. In the same light, you cannot love another until you love yourself. My mother was self-loathing. She had been conditioned through twenty years of marriage to Lucius, to see herself as nothing. With every beating, my mother lost her ability to care. She was a pitiable creature, but I cannot forgive her for her coldness. She should have been a mother, but instead she was a steel automaton made to dispense money, praise and gifts. A machine does not love.
How can you truly love a machine?
It would be a stretch to say I got any rest that night. My dreams had been haunted with fear. It was a cold, black fear that seemed to envelope and suffocate me. I had never had dreams like that before. There was nothing around me but a darkness that could not be pierced. In retrospect, I think that my fears in taking the mission were subconsciously forming themselves and trying to break through my cool and collected mask. When I woke the next morning, I was in a cold sweat. I had almost fallen from my bed in a panic, unable to shake the last dregs of fear from me. It was a very ungraceful leap that I had made from my bed, trying to make my way to the private bath as soon as possible. When I had finally walked shakily to the black marble washroom, I was able to push the last few worries from my mind as I went to the obsidian sink to splash cold water on my face.
Looking in the mirror, I admired the face staring back at me. The true narcissist that I was, I couldn't help but smile. My face was glorious. It may have been a bit sharp and chiseled, but it was befitting an aristocrat. My eyes were, and still are, quicksilver orbs that could see into the souls of those around me. I could bore holes into people with those eyes, and I often did. They were unsettling and mesmerizing at the same time. Then again, everything has conflicting qualities. Whether it be a soft look on a hard surface or beauty in a gargoyle. There was something primal about my eyes though, and I always found them to be my greatest asset.
My hair was spun silk. It had grown rather long by that time and it shadowed my eyes and framed my face perfectly. I had stopped slicking it back in my fourth year as a way to make it easier for women to run their fingers through it as they yelled my name in bed. Yes, I truly was a sex god. Still am if you ask me. My hair was silvery blonde, an odd color, even for a Malfoy. My family was always known for their white blonde locks that prematurely turned to pure white. My father's hair had been completely white by the time he was twenty. My hair though, was almost silver, but kept that yellowish tint that classified it as blonde.
My body was chiseled and muscular, but not overly so. They were a perfect shape and size from the countless hours I spent in Quidditch training. My low riding, green silk pants showed off my torso perfectly and my alabastor skin shimmered in the light of the bathroom. Yes, I was very narcisistic, and still am to an extent.
Breaking out of my reverie, I shook my head and made my way back to my bedroom to get dressed for the day. I would have breakfast with my mother and with any luck, she would tell me why it was so important for her to see Snape the night before. I had a small idea of her reasons, but it was far from what she had actually done.
"Snape will protect you during the year." My mother spoke in her normal sharp tone as she lifted the teacup to her lips. She was a regal looking woman, with her waist length blonde hair and her pointed features. I had her nose, small and sloped gracefully. Her hands were perfectly manicured and her posture spoke volumes about her breeding. She was the perfect trophy wife to Lucius.
"Really, mother? And what would prompt him to do that. What would prompt you to think that I cannot protect myself?" I asked her in a similar tone, pushing around the eggs on my plate with a fork. I was angry that she had presumed that I could not take care of myself. I was a Malfoy after all.
"The unbreakable vow is why." Her reply stunned me. I looked up with an indignant grimace and pushed my chair away from the table as I stood abruptly. As calm as ever, my mother only continued with her meal despite my outbust.
"Why, mother, would you even consider doing something that stupid? You really are daft to assume that I am not capable of fulfilling my mission. Do you think that Snape will be able to help me? I don't need his help or anyone else's." I spat at her viciously. What I know now is that she was the smart one. She knew that a mission like mine was likely to break me. She did what was best for her son, whether or not I liked it.
"Sit down Draco. You are making a scene. If you are unable to fulfil your mission in any way, Snape will finish it. You do not know the Dark Lord as I do, Draco. He gave you this mission in the hopes that you would be killed as a punishment to your father and I. I did what I had to in order to secure your future. There is no changing it now." She gazed intensely into my eyes, almost daring me to retort. I didn't though, I merely stormed out of the breakfast parlor before she could say another word. As much as I subconsciously knew that she was right, I wasn't ready to accept that. The Dark Lord trusted me with one of the most important missions there was. I was to take out the general. Death Eaters would look up to me when I was successful and I would be known as the man who defeated the undefeatable Dumbledore! I was drunk with power and the prospect of glory. You may not consider what I was going to do glorious, but it was in it's own right.
Over the next two weeks, I started to form a plan of attack. It would take alot of work, but in the end it would be worth it. I could almost taste the power I would gain. I had all but forgotten my mother's actions, and I acted as if I had forgotten her. I knew that the greatest punishment that I could bestow upon the silly woman was my silence. It would drive her mad. When I felt she had payed enough, I would break the silence. I began to speak to her again as the day for returning to Hogwarts drew near. It was the Friday before the train ride and she was to take me to Diagon Alley and get me fitted for my new school robes. She had been mercilessly clingy towards me and she showered me with the familiar praise as we stood in Madame Malkin's, getting fitted for my robes. I had tried to argue with her about shopping by myself, but she had refused to allow me to go alone.
The day had been long and hot. It looked as if it might be an indian summer that year. I was yelling at that dumpy old woman in the robes shop, when I caught a reflection in the mirror of the three people that I would like to see least. The Golden Trio had apparently felt it time to purchase their school things as well. Not like the Weasel King could have afforded half the things in Diagon Alley. They may have found a small fortune in Egypt a few years before that, but it didn't change the fact that no Weasley could hold onto their money. The pathetic family had squandered their galleons faster than you can say snitch. They really were a disgusting bunch and I had a faint feeling of sickness. I wanted nothing more than to puke from that Weasley stench. Of course, there was no real smell that could be attributed to Weasley, it was more that he reeked of poverty. Potter stank of undeserved glory and the mudblood was rank with a know it all air that made me want to strangle her whenever I looked at her. They may have been disgusting, but they were below me. I took great comfort in the fact that they didn't have any sort of power over me.
I was above them, and I knew it. I put on the haughtiest high and mighty sneer that I could muster and I glared at the three through the mirror's reflection. My mother and Madam Malkin's chattering was just a white noise in the background. I smirked inwardly and turned to my mother.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, mother, a mudblood just walked in."
I was quite proud of that little barb, and equally as proud of the reaction that Potty and the Weasel King gave me. They both drew their wands and pointed them at me. I knew that they wouldn't dare use magic in public, and I told them as much. I was happy to see that their reaction didn't change. Perhaps if they had hexed me, they would be kicked out of Hogwarts and I wouldn't have had to spend another grueling year in their presence. I was happy to see that Granger's eye was magnificently black and puffy. I had to commend whoever had given her that shiner.
It was then that my mother entered the conversation. "Put those away. If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it's the last thing you ever do." I was surprised that my mother had the guts to talk like that to Potter. Especially when Potter had the protection of Dumbledore and most of the wizarding world. She was, however, a Malfoy and she made sure to make that known to the golden trio. After a few exchanges between wonder boy and my mother, Potter said something that made me seeth with anger.
"... So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband." I nearly leapt forward to strangle the boy, but found out all too soon that I was not half as graceful in robes that were too long. I tripped very unceremoneously on the hem of my robe and fell forward. Had I not been as angry, I most likely would have died of embarassment. Instead of slinking away in shame, I cast the most seething glare I could muster at Potter.
"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!" I snarled at the black haired boy, advancing to show him, in a very physical way, how much I detested him. It was my mother's hand that restrained me though, keeping me from pummeling the boy-who-wouldn't-fucking-die.
"It's alright, Draco. I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius." My mother had a gift. It was the same gift that I had. It was the ability to see someone else's weaknesses and strike them where it hurt. It was the ability to read someone like an open book. Of course the mention of Black was the barb that would sting Potter the most. I almost had to restrain myself from clapping at my mother's comment. It was so ruthless and cut-throat. It was in that moment that I remembered why she made such a good Malfoy. I wasn't paying attention to the old woman that was measuring my sleeve, but I felt the definate prick of a needle in my arm.
"Watch where you're putting your pins woman! Mother, I don't think I want these anymore." I stated blandly, glaring at the blushing woman next to me. I pulled the robes over my head and left them in a tattered heap on the floor. It would do no good to buy robes that were tainted with the stink of Potty and his cronies. My mother merely nodded towards me and sent another comment at the threesome before we walked out of the shop. I have stated that I don't really love my mother, and it's true. My reasoning for defending her was pride. She was a Malfoy, and nobody was going to threaten or badmouth a Malfoy around me.
My mother dragged me around a bit, taking me into Twillfit and Tattings to buy the robes I would have otherwise bought at Madam Malkin's. It wasn't too long after the incident in the robe shop that I was able to shake off my mother. She went into the beauty parlor to get a manicure and her hair trimmed. I told her that I was going to go to the apothecary, but I had other plans. There was something far more important to be done than buy potions supplies. I quickly made my way through the alley and to a dark corner that marked the entrance to Knocturn Alley. It was a despicable place, and I fit right in. My destination was none other than Borgin and Burke's, a place that I had gone to with my father the summer before my second year.
Borgin and Burke's was a special sort of place. It was a hole in the wall shop that was located under a dark archway. The sign was old and battered, hanging from rusty chains over the door. This store was where any dark witch or wizard could find what they wanted. The counter was tended by a twisted old wizard who had the tendency to cower at the sight of my father. It was quite annoying really, but my father was not there. Mr. Borgin also knew what he was talking about, which made him my gratest asset at the moment. I made my way to the shop door, pushing it open and walking into the dimly lit showroom. The merchandise was amazing. Borgin and Burke had everything from shriveled heads, mummy hands, enchanted cabinets, books on the dark arts and cursed heirlooms. The latter was what I was interested in.
The year that my father had taken me to the shop, I remembered seeing a necklace there. It was a beautiful mixture of silver and opals, something that would be fitting for a high society woman. I, on the other hand, knew of the power that such an innocent looking object held. I will not tell you now what was wrong with the necklace, for it all comes to you in time. The most important thing though, was an old cabinet that I had seen before. It was an old broken cabinet that would be very important to my cause. Once again though, all will be revealed in time.
After a few choice words with Mr. Borgin, I secured both purchases and made sure that they would be held for me. Having a werewolf on your side tended to be a very strong argument. I had just begun spinning my web, and when it was ready, I would swallow Dumbledore like the spider swallows the fly. I could already feel the power that I so longed for, welling up inside me. I quickly turned from Mr. Borgin and swept out of the store, not even glancing backwards. The man would listen to me, with the threat of Fenrir Greyback looming over him.
It was a tangled plot that I was scheming. It was thick with danger, sneakiness and it reeked of the game that all Slytherins played so well. It was a game of deceit that I had learned so well since childhood. For me to succeed, there were a few things that I needed. Two of those things had just been purchased, another was at Hogwart's already and lastly I needed the time and patience to complete it. I had already been stripped of my prefecture because of the year before, but that would only do to give me more time. Now it was time to wait, and finish the fine details of my scheme.
All of this secrecy though, couldn't possible hide the fact that I was Draco Malfoy. I didn't waste time in insinuating to my fellow Slytherins that I was in league with the Dark Lord. It was so priceless to see their faces when I spoke of it. It all happened on the train ride to Hogwarts. I had been in the compartment for a while, chatting with my fellow sixth years (all of whome were a bit daft and rather boring). I was laying my head in Pansy's lap, allowing the cow to brush her fingers through my hair. Crabbe and Goyle were there in all of their dim-witted glory and Zabini was with our new professor having a "meeting" of some sort. We were waiting for him to get back, passing the time by talking nonsensically, mainly complaining about all of the mudbloods on the train.
When Zabini had finally returned, he had a little fight with the compartment door, which had refused to close. I paid no attention to it really. I had much more important things on my mind. I was mildly interested as Zabini fell onto Goyle and they began to wrestle apart from eachother. Out of the corner of my eye though, I saw a flash of white in the air. I wanted to think nothing of it though, I wasn't getting enough sleep.
"So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want anyway?" I asked, acting unimpressed and uninterested in what the answer would be. The answer though, did not make me happy. Zabini told me about how Slughorn was interested in becoming aquainted with all of the well connected students at Hogwarts. If that were the case, one would think that I should have been invited to it as well. It was rather disturbing. When I asked who else had been invited, I was shocked that Longbottom and the Weaslette had been invited as well. Longbottom was about as sharp as a quaffle and the Weasley girl was, well, a Weasley. Sure she was good looking, as Pansy quickly pointed out, but other than that she was a freckle faced child of blood traitors. Although, I had to cringe when I remembered the bat-bogey hex that she had placed on me the previous year. She was possibly even more vicious than her hot-tempered brother. Maybe it was that she was calmer and a bit more calculating. If she wasn't a Weasel, she might have been alright. Of course, I would never admitted that to anyone. As it stood, I hated her as much as her Weasel King brother.
After a while, our conversation turned. I told everyone that there was a good chance that I wouldn't be attending school the next year, but I would not tell them the true reason why. Instead I told them that the Dark Lord would not care about something as trivial as N.E.W.T.S. or O.W.L.S. anyway. The Dark Lord would only care about loyalty.
"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" Zabini asked me, in a scathing tone. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet!" He added in the same sharp voice. I simply glared at Zabini and answered him in the most unaffected tone I could muster. I spoke as if my answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job that he wants me to do isn't something that you need training to do." I was more than pleased with the reaction that I recieved. Crabbe and Goyle stared with their mouths agape, looking as if they were trying to catch flies with them. Pansy stared down at me in awe, I had only given her more the reason to dote upon me. Zabini's skin would have flushed if it wasn't as black as coal. Instead he settled for a rather embarassed look and averted his eyes to the seat. When I was completely satisfied with the outcome of our conversation, I pointed out that we were almost at Hogwarts and suggested that everyone channge.
Earlier, I had seen the flash of white. When Goyle pulled down his trunk forcefully, I heard a gasp. It was then that I knew someone was up on the luggage rack. I also had a fairly good idea of who it was. My father had once told me that Harry Potter had an invisibility cloak. Instead of unmasking Potter in front of the whole compartment, I waited for everone to leave, telling Pansy to proceed without me when she held out her hand. As if I would have held her hand anyway, she was repulsive. Once everyone was gone, and I was sure that Potter thought he was in the clear, I made my move.
"Petrificus Totalus!" I pointed my wand to the space above my head and was happy to see the form of my rival fall from the high rack. I gave Potter the most genuinely malicious smile I had. "I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air when Zabini came back." I said to him with a satisfied look. I wasn't going crazy after all! I made sure that I rubbed it in to Potter where his mistakes had lie. It was a pleasant feeling to stand over my enemy and have him helpless.
"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here..." It was then that I brought my foot down hard on the other boy's face. I heard the sickening crack of his nose breaking and I reveled in the sight of the blood flowing freely from the break. With a snicker, I pulled the cloak from underneath him and flung it over his frozen form. I wanted to make sure that the git wasn't found for a very long time. The memory of that moment, would sustain me for most of the year. Little did I know that not even that would keep that year form being the worst of my life.
With those encounters, my sixth year at Hogwarts was starting. I know that you will most likely find little humor in those events, but they soon became the highlights of my year. Nothing else that year would go as smoothly.