Author's note: I have only recieved one review thus far, and I am quite sad about that. I was hoping that more people would be interested. However, that doesn't mean that I am going to stop writing, because I do like this story and I can't base my willingness to continue on what everyone else think sof it. Who cares. Well, This is the third chapter and I'm glad things are getting rolling. I'm not sure if I am rushing a bit or not, but I guess I wont know until people start reviewing. So get to it people!
Disclaimer: I don't own Draco, Harry, Ginny or the rest of our favorite gang. I own Draco's thoughts and that's about it. Thank you JK, for giving me inspiration to procrastinate.
Chapter Three: The First Month
I am sure that you have no sympathy for me at this point. That's good, as I do not seek any. I am only telling you my story to make you understand. It has become increasingly aparent in my life that nobody truly believes in the in-between. The way that people viewed the world during my childhood was in black and white terms. The longer I have lived, the more I have come to realize that things have not truly changed. I tell you this story, my friend, because I have heard you described as an open minded person. Even those who would eventually come to save me, would never look on me as one of them. It isn't as if I seek their friendship, I only wished that they would understand better. Nobody ever really understands though, do they? You are my last hope to complete my story. Not even those who are closest to me know the entire tale, and you are the only person who ever will.
Please keep your open mind, you might need it through this tale.
The first night back at Hogwarts, I relished in the fact that Potter was so late for the feast that it was nearly over when he arrived. The prat looked like his face had been gored by a crumple-horned snorkak (if they existed, of course). There was a mass of dried blood smearing his perfect complexion and he was drawing the attention of the entire Great Hall. That sort of attention normally would have annoyed me, but I was far too delighted in the fact that he looked so beaten. What's more, the fact that I was the one who had caused such a glorious show. I merely smirked in my normal Malfoy way as I watched the dream team fuss over their illustrious leader. I snorted in disapproval as I noticed the clumsy oaf of a half giant waving at Scarface. Who could have ever thought that such a sniveling idiot had opened the chamber of secrets? Moreso, who could have mistaken him for the heir of Slytherin? There was no way that a brainless goon like Hagrid could be the heir of a great man like Salazaar Slytherin.
Of course, my father had told me of the first time the chamber had been opened. He told me that Hagrid had been the one accused of it. Of course, he refused to tell me any more, and I still don't know what had happened exactly. Of course, I knew that it had to do with Potter and the youngest Weasel brat. My eyes immediately flicked over to the younger girl at this thought. I had to admit that she was pleasant on the eyes, but there were no other redeeming qualities. She may have been an attractive girl, but my ego was still a bit bruised by the bat-bogey hex she had placed on me the year before. She was just as insufferable as the rest of Potter's little cronies. I sneered in disgust as I turned back to my bread pudding.
The rest of the night had gone on as normal. I sneered at Potter and he glared back. Pansy attatched herself to my arm and fawned over me, and I showed her a disinterested air. Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their faces and I merely watched on with a morbid fascination as to how a slytherin could be so unmannered as the two of them. Of course, I had other thoughts on my mind as well that night. I couldn't be bothered with the endless chatting of the rest of the Slytherins. I had always known myself above them, but with the Dark Lord's assignment, it was proven. The Dark Lord had marked me as worthy and he had left the rest of my simpering classmates to lead their meaningless lives. I was better in every sense of the word. Nothing could have changed my views at that point. It would take a few months before I started doubting myself.
The first day of classes was interesting... to say the least. I, of course, had my N.E.W.T.S. potion class with the Gryffindors. It wasn't a surprising event, because we had been having the class together since our first year. The Headmaster felt that combining the rival houses would help to create more of a comraderie between the polar opposites. Over the years though, it was apparent that our close proximity only lent to more animosity as the years went on. The crazy old codger actually though that slytherins and gryffindors would get along? It was clearly impossible. My surprises, however, occured when I walked into the dungeon room and discovered that Slughorn was standing at the front of the class and Potter and Weasley were seated across the room. There was also a strong scent of mint and lavenders in the room. At that point, I knew that the world had turned upside down. Potter and Weasley couldn't create a calming draught if their lives depended on it! I was incensed. I had thought, that for once in my life I was going to be able to enjoy my favorite class without having to deal with the presence of Potty and the Weasel. The mudblood's presence was expected, but Snape would never have allowed the other two near the dungeon's after the O.W.L.S. As for the odd scent in the room, that was later explained by Granger as an effect of one of the potions.
Of course, Snape wasn't there. Slughorn was teaching now. I let a disgruntled sigh escape my lips as I made my way to a table, taking my seat next to Nott, my fellow slytherin. It hadn't taken Slughorn long to get into a discussion of the three different couldrons at the front of the room. It also didn't take Granger too long to start spouting all of her coveted knowledge. It made me sick, she was one of the biggest pieces of trash in the room and Slughorn was practically fawning over her explanation of the first couldron filled with polyjuice potion and the second one of amortentia. Slughorn quickly asked if Granger was in any way related to an old potioneer. I couldn't help but laugh inwardly as she told Slughorn that she was a mudblood.
I leaned into Nott's bulky form and whispered in a satisfied way. " Like that thing could pass for anything remotely human, let alone an accomplished wizard. She resembles more of a hedgehog, maybe Slugface is into beastiality."
Nott chuckled amusedly as we turned our attention back to the scene unfolding in front of us. I nearly fell out of my seat when Slughorn mentioned his best friend being muggle-born. My father had spoken so highly of him! How could he be a blood traitor? I was momentarily mortified, but hid it under a cool mask. When Slughorn continued his speech about how powerful amortentia really was, Nott and I shared a skeptical smirk before he turned to us and nodded gravely.
"You know, I think this guy's as crazy as Moody was." Nott whispered to me, stealing a glance at Slughorn and eyeing him warily. Of course obsession was a powerful tool, but it wasn't nearly as powerful as hate. I just nodded my agreement as Slughorn went on to explain the last couldron's contents. As soon as he told us the contents of the smaller couldron, I was mesmerized. What was more was that he was giving away a vial of it to the student who created the best Draught of Living Death in the room. Felix Felicis, liquid luck. It was something that would have been very useful to me in my mission. It would probably be something that could ensure my success. Suddenly, I was crazed thinking about the possibilities. I rifled through my potions book and quickly started the Draught of Living Death.
I hadn't yet forgotten how Slughorn had overlooked me when inviting people to join his little club. In an attempt to remind him who I was and who my family was, I brought up mention of my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy. Much to my disdain, Slughorn simply blew me off. From that point on, I worked more diligently to prove myself. Not only that, maybe if I took the Felix Felicis on the day that my mission would be carried out, maybe I would be lucky enough that the old coot would die too. At this thought, I smirked to myself, the potion was as good as mine.
The last thing that I had expected that day though, was for Potter to win. I was incensed. How could he beat me in potions? The insufferable prat beat me in fame, glory, quidditch, popularity and then he beat me in potions? Scarhead was taking away the only thing that I had truly outperformed him in and I was beyond angry. With a sneer in the direction of the golden trio, I threw my bag over my shoulder and marched out of the room, leaving a confused and irritated Nott trailing behind.
I spent the rest of the day in a huff, barely speaking to anyone and verbally assaulting anyone that I could find in the hallways. During dinner, Pansy hung on me mercilessly. I swear, if I had really been a piece of steak, the blood-sucker would have eaten me already. The insufferable wench barely left my side throughout the day, unless our class schedules were conflicting. Her constant presence not only made my bad mood worse, but it gave me little time to plan my attack. I also knew that I would have to leave Hogwarts that night. The key to my entire plan was in Hogsmeade, and I somehow had to get to it. I looked around the great hall and sneered as I stood to leave the great room.
"Draco darling, where are you going? I thought we were going to spend the night together..." Pansy's nasal voice rang up to me, almost making me cringe. I turned to her and nodded, trying to think up the best excuse I could muster.
"Go find someone else to smother, you gutless whore!"
Alright, well I didn't say that. I was thinking about it though! I swear! If I could have done any one thing at that moment, I would have ripped out her little pink tongue and shoved it down her throat to make sure that she never spoke again. Either that or give her a ton-tongue toffee. Either way, I couldn't act on my feelings, because father would have disapproved.
"I have to go talk to professor Snape. I will be back in the commons around ten." I replied, schooling my face into a cool mask as I turned away from my fellow students. I walked out of the great hall, paying no attention to Pansy's pleas. I couldn't be bothered with such trivial nonsense as that cow's feelings. There were much bigger fish to fry that night. As I turned a corner on the second floor, I ran into something that knocked me backwards onto the ground.
"What the...?" I sneered as I gingerly rubbed my bum, standing up from the spot where I had fallen. I looked down at the person who had unknowingly thrown me with such force and a feeling of disgust shot through me. It was disgust, but there was something else mixed in there as well. Maybe it was surprise that the littlest Weasel could possibly have thrown me to the ground like that.
"Watch where you're going, blood-traitor. Wouldn't want you running into anyone that would want to hurt you." I added in a menacing tone as I took a step towards her sprawled body.
"I...I..." She started nervously as I advanced on her helpless form. Of course, I remembered that she wasn't quite as helpless as I would have liked to believe, but that was besides the point. I was going to take any chance that I could to intimidate a Weasley. I smirked at the girl, seeing the trouble she was having forming her reply.
"I see that you're just as thick as Weasel and Scarhead. Can't even form a real sentence. I wonder why your parents would even bother sending you to school. I mean, I'm sure that they could use that tuition money to buy food. Although from the looks of it, your mother doesn't need to eat any more." I chuckled mirthlessly, seeing the dumbfounded look in the girl's eyes. Then, as quickly as it had come, her expression changed to one of fierce anger as she stood and faced me. I was quite surprised to see how she drew herself to her full height and was almost as tall as me.
"What, Malfoy, stooping to insulting my mother's weight are you? If that's the game, I'll play. At least my mother eats. It looks to me like your mother throws up her meals. What, has she taken to hunger strikes to get your father out of Azkaban? Or has she always looked like a corpse? I mean, I wouldn't be surprised considering that she produced something as revolting as you." The Weaslette replied, throwing me a smirk to match my own. "Oh! I know what it is, it's the sight of you across the dinner table that makes her have to ralf up her meal! I know I'd throw up if I had to look at your mug every night." The girl added, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.
More than anything at that moment, I wanted to forget about my mission and kill the little chit. She insulted my entire family in one go! I hadn't even been able to do that! I wanted to strangle the little wench. She gave me a satisfied smile as she turned on her heel and walked down the hallway. For once in my life, I was too stunned and angry to do a thing about it. By the time I finally collected my thoughts enough to curse the Weaslette into next week, she was gone and I had missed my chance. I swore silently and continued to make my way towards my previous destination, the statue of the old witch.
Everyone at Hogwarts was familiar with the grotesque crone's statue, but very few knew that there was a passageway hidden in her hump back. This passageway led to none other than the basement of Honeyduke's. When I finally reached the hag, I pushed against her back and watched it open into a dark cavern. Not taking a moments pause, I entered the dark passage and whispered "lumos" to ignite the tip of my wand. The walls were grimy and the floor made of packed dirt. It didn't take long for me to make the trek to the trapdoor in Honeyduke's basement.
Honeydukes was closed by the time I got there, just as I had planned. With the shop empty, I had my chance to make it through undetected. I had formed my plan perfectly. I made my way out of the shop and started towards the Three Broomsticks, making no stops along the way and garnering very little attention in my hooded robe. I imagined that there were a good many people in Hogsmeade who would travel in anonymity as I was. Once I reached the doors to the kitchen of the pub, I made my way in, not wanting to go through the main entrance, lest there be a professor or two there. Reaching of my wand, I alohamorad my way into the building and took up a seat in a dark corner, waiting for my prey to arrive.
Nearly a half an hour after my arrival, I watched as a the ample-bosomed Rosmerta made her way into the cramped kitchen, the door behind her releasing a cacaphony of sounds as it was opened and quickly swung shut. I took a moment to watch as the older woman bustled around the room, presumably preparing some food for one of her patrons. She was quite a good looking woman, with her rosy cheeks and sweet disposition. She also, as I had learned, was not completely there at times and she trusted far too easily. When the woman least expected it, I pointed my wand at her back and muttered an almost silent 'imperio'.
I was pleased to see the reaction that came from her. She immediately stiffened and I could feel her struggle against the curse.
"It's surprising, isn't it? The curse has far more power if the subject doesn't expect it coming. Rosmerta, haven't you learned by now that you have to keep an eye open at all times? I would think that you would have been more viligant with a dark wizard on the loose and his followers everywhere." I whispered to her as I made my way closer to the woman. I took ahold of her upper arm, turning her to face me, making sure that she understood the gravity of the situation she allowed herself to be placed in. When her eyes met mine though, I saw a plethora of emotions pass behind them. She was scared, and I had caused that fear. A pang of emotion went through my heart as I saw her pleading eyes, but I quickly shook it away. Malfoy's did not feel guilty. My momentary relapse would have been quickly punished if it had occured in front of the Dark Lord.
"Don't worry, woman. No harm will come to you if you help me. If you disobey me, on the other hand, I will make sure that you suffer endlessly before I take your life myself." I spoke in the same hushed tone as before, not moving my eyes from hers. I could see a hint of sadness behind her gaze and I almost laughed out loud. Of course she knew that I was serious, and I thought that she was fearful of her life. Later, however, I learned that the sadness she felt at the time, was because she saw me as a lost boy. She was sad that I had been dragged into the godforsaken war. If she had told me then how she felt, I would have cursed her into oblivion. However, it was many years later that she told me of her feelings that night. I had turned into a twisted and lost youth, and she knew it from the moment that she recognized me.
When I finally broke eye contact, it was to reach into the pocket of my robes. I pulled out a small. black velvet bag that held the real key to my plan. When I handed it to her, she opened it and took out the small coin that resided within. Rosmerta threw me a confused look before I began to explain the purpose of the coin.
"This is how I will contact you with my instructions. This is also how you will contact me with any information you think will be of use and to tell me when you have finished your tasks. You merely place the tip of your wand on that mark in the middle of the coin. You say a simple incantation and then you will tell the coin the information that you are sending to me. I will recieve the information through the same incantation. This is also how you will hear your assignments from me. Don't try to escape this and don't withold information from me. I will know if you do and I will have to punish you. You will be recieving a package soon. It will not come by owl, but will be given to you by someone personally. Tell me when you have recieved this package and I will tell you what to do with it." I finished my speech to her and I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head again.
When Rosmerta began to speak, I quickly placed my finger on her lips to silence her. I didn't say another word as I turned and made my way out of the pub and back to the castle. I knew what Rosmerta was going to say. She would have gone into a speech about how I shouldn't be doing this and how I was just a boy. She was going to try and beg me to give it up, but I wasn't about to listen to her. My task was clear and the outcome could not be stopped. If I didn't do what I was told, the consequences would be disastrous and I wasn't willing to allow that to happen. I knew full well what I was doing, or at least I thought that I did.
You see? My plan was beginning to go into fruition and I was going to kill Dumbledore. That didn't mean exactly what you all think it does. Rosmerta's eyes had shaken me up more than I could even tell you. That one look that she gave me made me want to abandon the whole thing. What would have happened if I had given in? My life would be so different than it is now. That is, I would have probably been killed. There is no denying my reasoning as much as you may think I should have stopped my escapade with Rosmerta. You have no idea how much my decision haunted me. My mission made me feel powerful, as did my corruption of Rosmerta. However, there was no way that I could back out.
You may try to tell me that Dumbledore would have protected me, but at what proce? Would I have just gone from serving one master to another? Would I have just become the lapdog of a muggle-lover? Would I have even been able to survive disobeying the dark lord? There really is no telling what would have happened. I can only find solace in the validity of my reasoning. No matter what any person will tell me, I did what I had to. It was self-preservation at the highest and I wasn't going to sacrifice myself on the altar of bravery. I was still a Slytherin.