'Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.'
~~**
Chapter Two: The Path of Daggers
Upon an eternity, his life was engraved… His soul tied to one purpose; greatness.
It was also the destiny of his father before him and may years from then it would be the destiny of his son to be. But then, this fate was his to face.
It was the fate of a Malfoy, the fate of the great, the fate of the forlorn. It was the fate that he would face in mere minutes, and as he was to walk the long isle, making his surrender official. Though he was not supposed to think of it as surrender, in the words of his father, it was to be a reprise. For with coming to accept it, he would soon be reborn, opened up to a new life…
In the darkness of his heart, an unfathomable sparkle remained. But even he did not know of its existence. In a few moments, it was threatening to burn out forever.
'Lucius," came Amadeus Malfoy's firm call from behind his son's door. Suddenly, the door burst open and the young boy saw his father's serious face look upon his own. "It is time,"
Lucius Malfoy nodded in agreement as he followed his father's fleeting figure thought the halls of the old Malfoy Manor.
The halls were dark that night; it had to be past midnight by a few hours. There was an eerie feel to the stone corridors of the Mansion, it was said, that if one stopped and truly listed to the silence while within the walls of the enormous structure, he could nearly hear voices speaking, laughing, sobbing, wailing sometimes even screaming. They were distant voices, voices only heard by one who wanted to hear all the things that happened in the Manor over the centuries, voices of the souls who still lingered in the forlorn place, prisoners of the magnificent palace. The faint glimmer of the burning torches at the end of the hall of the west wing was their guide to where Amadeus was leading his son to on that decisive night.
That night, had been his last night of freedom, thought Lucius. It was the night he had done all he was free to do while not yet bound to the fate, which was responsibility. In the one night, he had traveled London with his friends to celebrate and to keep themselves entertained; they also murdered about a dozen muggles for the sole purpose of festivity and fun. Earlier that night, he had also attained his goal of bedding the Galagher-Le Noire (A/N; Le Noire is Black in French, I know Narcissa's Family name is Black, Le Blanc was closer but that means white, a little drama never hurt anyone) heiress to the throne of the Dark Arts French Royalty- Narcissa. Hopefully, he would have gotten her with child, as he were to wed her in a month after he had pledged allegiance to the Dark Lord, Voldemort, which was the purpose of that night. A few weeks before, the couple had been engaged. The magnificence of the celebration was amazing. It was as if it was already the wedding.
On that fateful night, Lucius would be bound to something far more important than responsibility, but he would be bound to honor.
And along with all he had to live for: the Malfoy fate.
They approached the end of the hall almost all too fast. Lucius was familiar with this part. Before his father, stood a monstrous engraving of mass muggle slaying in the middle ages. In the center, there were men being hanged by warlocks and muggle women stripped of their honor before their struggling husbands before they were put to death. At the side of the huge brass frame, there were goblins and gargoyles terrorizing the muggle children. Amadeus considered this as an excellent portrayal of a pastime… a tradition if you may. Narcissa, when she saw it, called it horrendous and so did Morticia, Lucius mother. Lucius, with his own view of the painting, called it... a masterpiece.
Amadeus stepped on a small platform before the engraving and it was automatically hidden from sight. Lucius grimaced, 'If Narcissa saw this, she would probably say "Thank God"' he thought.
In it's place stood a descending stairs, sort of like a muggle escalator going down spirally. Amadeus stepped down first and his son followed.
The descending stairway was dark and creepy, and it seemed like an eternity before they were able to reach the bottom of it. Eventually, the foot of the stairs was the entrance of a room and at the end of the room was a colossal brass door facing the stairwell.
The enormous brass door Lucius and his father now stood before opened silently. Beyond them was one of the most magnificent investiture chambers the wizarding world has ever built. The room was a long hall that led to a wide circular stage with a serpent engraved upon the center table. Torches that held jade flames illuminating the way were built upon the huge posts of the hallway. The walls were very old; anyone could observe that. The large stone bricks were darkening at the edges due to the hundred years of silence and inactivity.
In the distance, the assembly stood waiting. The Death Eaters of the inner circle stood around the center table while the servants of the outer circle stood behind them, and in the center, was the ever-glorious Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort.
Lucius stood in slight awe and admiration. Amadeus Malfoy cleared his throat as to catch Lucius' attention. The young boy took one last look at his father before following him on to the assembly.
As the dark lord stood in waiting, he pondered on the thoughts of the boy approaching him. The boy, in a few moments would be pledged to his loyalty. He probed his mind and soul of inner thoughts of regret and characteristics of disloyalty. He gave a slight malevolent smile at the fact that he had found none.
'He would not be a problem' he thought. 'He is loyal, very loyal.'
Voldemort could see the look on Lucius face as he felt uncertainty as the dark lord continued to search his thoughts. He probed his experiences, his philosophy and his point of view. He seemed a perfect follower, it seemed that there would be no possibility that he would ever fail him. To the dark lord's satisfaction, he found no defect in the boy. There was still one thing to check... the imminent. The dark lord showed an expression of sudden anger because to his displeasure, he had sensed something, a flaw, and a flaw not in the boy himself but in his son to be.
It was something he could not quite put his finger on. Funny, Riddle thought; there was almost never anything he could not foretell about one person who willingly opened up his mind when he saw them and observed his personality. 'How could this boy who stood before him, a perfect follower, loyal and respectful, boar a child who could be just the opposite?' He thought. It would be a mistake would let the boy's son be a follower of his when there was a possibility that it would lead to his fall. Or, that could lead to other possibilities.
But then, he realized that that was not the only possibility. There was one possibility that amused him, and at the same time, for the first time in years left him fearful. It could be that Lucius Malfoy's son would be much greater than his father? Or his fear, could this boy's son be greater that him, the dark lord. He could be a threat, or… the perfect heir…
Voldemort smiled, it surely would be a good future, and the possibilities would be great.
"My lord," began Amadeus Malfoy. " I present to you my son… Lucius Avarin Dresáous Malfoy,"
Lucius had never been uncertain about anything in his life, and he had always thought that he would be the greatest of all men. But now, as he proved himself to be wrong… now, that he stood before a greater man… what would he do?
A stern glance from his father told him to bow, to kneel, and for once… to show respect. So he did, he knelt and bowed before the dark lord.
"Arise Lucius… or do you prefer to kneel? It will lessen the pain…" said Voldemort.
The boy looked up at him and smiled, diabolically…
"I know not pain greater than my own life my lord. Pain shall not be an object of though if there are greater things to consider, I will stand," he said bravely.
Voldemort gave a slight smile of satisfaction. Brave, brave and very honorably proud.
"Very well, an excellent choice. As well said, and I have to say… I am proud,"
"Thank you my lord,"
'I am proud'… those three simple words, funny, Lucius could not remember one instance when his father had ever uttered those words. Especially of him, but he was used to it. He was used to the iron curtain that had been between them for almost forever.
One of the Death Eaters presented a green velvet clad case before the Dark Lord, and form it, rose Tom Riddle's school wand.
The wand was kept most of the time, because the dark lord had partially mastered wandless magic and once he did, he would not need a wand.
But for the task of conjuring the dark mark, he still needed it. It was still sacred to him; it was the symbol of his spreading evil back at Hogwarts and the muggle world. He knew one day, his keeping of that wand would do some good to him.
"Bring forth your left arm Lucius Malfoy,"
Without hesitation, the young boy did as he was told and held his pale left arm out to the Dark Lord.
Without a moment's waste of time, Voldemort began chanting.
"Illusio Morsmordre Apyradomarsi Divaiatum"
Lucius could not remember what had come first, the luminous green light or the excruciating pain that flowed through out his body sending violent spasms up his spine as he took the full blow of the effect of the conjuring of the dark mark upon his fore arm.
Lucius withstood all of that, for he knew that he had to reflect pain. He had to feel numb against the soreness and hurt. He did this by envisioning his future after he had finally been initiated.
After a few moments the bright green light subsided and every one in the hall became clear to view.
The snake and skull that now branded it now tarnished Lucius' once white arm.
He was a Death Eater.
~~*
The Hogwarts grounds were peaceful and quiet now, it was close to dawn and the student body lay resting in their dormitories. The dawn would be coming in a matter of hours and the school would be alive with busy students and teachers running around the hallways doing their daily deeds.
But… until then, the castle would be peaceful… quiet and not minding of the thoughts of one person, musing in the depths of the Slytherin dungeon.
The Slytherin common room was dimly lit. The green flames in the walls have subsided a bit as the population in the room decreased from after the first years welcoming party. It had been a stressful night but he still sat awake upon the black leather clad couches in the common room.
He did not even know why he did not tire that night.
Draco smiled to himself as he watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. He usually felt irking for trouble, typically, he would be lurking the Hogwarts halls silently and walking…alone, and he did not care if he did it unaccompanied.
But not tonight, there was something bothering him…
In three months, Lucius had scheduled for him to meet the dark lord. It did not bother him because he was fearful. He feared nothing. But it bothered him because of the fact that he had to face someone who had proven to be a source of his misery… the source of so much suffering and ill will in the wizarding world. After all Draco had been raised by the dark lord's principles… the dark lords virtues… the dark lord's belief… and he had lived by all of this because his father was pledged to his loyalty. His father whom he had naively once thought was the greatest man on earth… But the truth struck him straight in to odium.
His father fell under another who valued him very little. He had pledged his life to an opportunistic man who prided himself because of his 'power'. But where was he now? Probably living as a scavenger in the forests of Albania…
And as time passed, Draco realized, no servant of the dark lord could ever be great; they could never be considered as that, they could only be considered as beings less than fools.
He thought of Lucius that way… It's just that he could not say that to his face now could he?
He thought of the future, two years from now then when he would become one of those people he considered fools. Would he be the greater fool and surrender himself to something he thought so negatively about? Draco smirked. He guessed he would. Would the dark lord sense this? It was once said that he could probe the thoughts of one person merely standing before him. But, it was also said that he had lost this characteristic when he was defeated sixteen years ago. When he was defeated by a one-year-old. When he was defeated by non other than Harry Potter.
Then his thoughts turned to Potter; the boy he loathed. The boy who had been the source of all the misfortunes the dark side had to face ever since the fall of Voldemort.
The perfect Harry Potter. The good, brave and fearless Harry Potter… A friend to all. It made Draco sick. Draco hated him for all he was… maybe because… he was jealous of him.
There could be no greater difference between two people in the world.
At first, Draco thought that Harry was the unluckiest person alive. Having lost his parents at such a young age, having to live with muggles, having such filth for friends, Weasley and Granger… and fighting on the loosing side… the light side.
He thought he was lucky, because he still had his parents, his family was prestigious and his reputation was great… he was a pureblood. There could be no greater family honor in the wizarding world. But then as the years went by, Harry had proved to be what Draco had thought he himself was… perfect.
Yes, it was true that he still had his parents, while Harry had lost his, but Draco never knew love, all he knew was coldness. He began to wonder how could Harry know more care and happiness that he his when he had less than Draco had… And he knew the answer to that… It was that all of what he had didn't actually matter… Though he would never admit that he could possibly not half the man Harry was, he knew it. No matter how pathetic the world thought of him, he still had something… and that was his pride. Though Draco would rather die than admit it, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to be Harry. What it would be like to be the hero and the one who almost always had the last laugh.
Would it make any difference if he were not rich, powerful and influential? Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to be under the circumstances of someone like Voldemort… Having others serve him rather than being the one who served. Maybe he thought, he could be greater… far, far greater.
Draco sighed. He remembered something looking through those dancing blue –green flames. It was something he had given up to just that night.
It was her...
Blaise…
~~
'Her eyes, blue dancing flames… sapphire ambiance. Prying… Probing…Staling your gaze, stealing your mind, stealing your soul… killing you softly and painlessly…beautiful… but deadly.'
~~
While it was true that Malfoy never knew love, he pledged never to make any other person know it by the means of him loving them.
Draco didn't really love Blaise… what they had was something a little bit less than that. It was an understanding between them that broke barriers of friendship ever since they were children. It wasn't that they actually cared for each other… it was that they were always brought together at times when one of them had plights. They needed each other in a strange way that didn't involve true affection.
That night, it was to be that they were to be closer than before… but Draco knew. It would always be the same… Even though they were going out then, it would always be as it was.
But then, she would be his, and he would have the ultimate Slytherin's desire… the best woman in the house. No one other would have the claim to her but him; it was sweet possession.
"Draco? What are you doing up at this hour…?" came a light voice from the darkness of the Slytherin common room.
Speak of the devil.
Draco turned his gaze away from the fires and turned to face her. Blaise was dressed in a ravishing silk emerald green piece of lingerie. Her dark features looking upon him sitting on the leather-clad couch. Why look at the fire when I can stare at her eyes? He thought puckishly, And I can stare at something more…
She, seemingly annoyed at not receiving an answer propped her right hand upon her slender waist. "Have I been talking to the bloody walls or didn't you hear me?"
Blaise took a few steps towards the couch Draco was sitting on and instantly, the distinctive aroma of her Strawberries and Champagne perfume filled the air. The scent unfortunately had a tendency to turn Draco on. That with the ravishing sight of her auburn curls cascading down her back almost flowing past her shapely bottom, and her cat-like eyes flashing at him, was a grateful addition to the package.
Draco gazed at her wonderful features. He had the look of irony in his eyes, which struck her like a cold rod of steel piercing in to her spine.
"Is something the matter?" she asked timidly, slowly approaching him.
Draco took her hands and pulled her to him.
"Nothing my pet," he said as he welcomed her on to his lap. "I just feel tireless,"
Blaise smiled as she relaxed in his arms bringing a hand to his cheek.
"Tireless? The party wasn't enough to wear you out… My, my… you are truly a man," She whispered huskily as she began to nuzzle his cheek tenderly. Draco closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the sensation… but that was just it; he couldn't.
It was like he was sitting in a train engine by the fire, burning… and yet he didn't feel a thing. Numbness ran through his entire body.
Blaise was fire all right, the hottest around in the cold Slytherin dungeons…. But there was just something in him she couldn't quite touch. Draco figured, that if she couldn't, she knew then no other woman could ever.
Draco put a hand on her waist and pulled her closer as he began nipping her neck. Blaise groaned as he did this, obviously enjoying the sensations. Draco wasn't affected, but he'd be a git if he didn't give her an enjoyable time in his arms.
His fingers crept up her legs as his mouth crept up her face did to claim her luscious red lips. He pressed his lips against hers and as she gasped, his tongue invaded the crevices and folds of her mouth. Blaise' tongue dueled with his and pushed in to his mouth with equally strong pressure. Draco's hand slid up her negligee and touched her bottom tenderly. The pressure enticed her.
Blaise wrapped her arms around him and kissed him harder, while her hands pulled at his shirt almost ripping out the buttons to reveal his chest.
She then put one of her hands inside of his shirt while transferring her lips to his neck. Draco pressed her slender body closer to his as she did this.
"I love you…" she moaned without thinking.
But realizing that she had said this she instantly pushed away from him and stood up with her back to him. She pulled the strap of her negligee back on to her shoulders.
She looked away from him embarrassingly. Her cheeks were turning blood red.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly and then she attempted to run back to the prefect's dormitory. How could she have said something so stupid? It was like a childish outburst that came out of her mouth at random, and the funny thing was… She meant it.
She had to run… she had to be far from him before he would have a memory of her embarrassment.
But a strong hand held her back.
"Stop it," Draco said firmly as he pulled her to him.
"I'm sorry for that Draco, I assure you I will never act this way again."
She looked in to his eyes and pulled away from him as she ran to her chambers.
She had just given in to her feelings, to a woman of her stature; that, was disgraceful. Why, if her mother saw her now, she would have considered disinheriting her.
With all honesty, she did love Draco, but she wasn't supposed to admit it. Admitting it made it final… would be admitting truth. She was not supposed to do that. Not until he had his hold on her. But by saying it, did she loose her strength? Was she less than she was just because she had admitted to that simple fact. No, she decided, she would not be weak. Even if it were true; what she had said, she would not be weak. Not ever again. In his eyes she would always be strong.
And that would be the last time she would ever be embarrassed. She promised that to herself.
~
Draco closed his eyes in satire as he sat back down on the couch and straightened his shirt pushing the soft fabric down with his palms. The supposed strongest woman he had ever been with, had fallen. A pity. Draco was beginning to think that he didn't need a woman by his side to be great.
He was sixteen and he had the mind to think about such things. But that was how his father wanted it to be. He wanted Draco to be mature.
As much as Draco wanted to please his father, he would have hated to agree with that conceited bastard… even if it meant his life.
But still, it wasn't Blaise' fault that her tongue had slipped. Draco was vain but despite that fact; even someone who loathed him could say that he was charming and handsome enough to make even the strongest girl fall for him, if not saying it then thinking it at least. Of course, someone who despised him would rather die than admitting it.
He would be willing to bet the Malfoy fortune on that… for he believed that there was not one woman who would dare resist his charms.
~~*
"Hermione, Hermione…"
Hermione looked up and Hermione closed her book and turned to the door from where she had heard a shrill girl's voice calling her name.
It was a Saturday morning and here she was sitting in her dormitory, reading a thousand-page novel. To Hermione, it was the most sensible thing to do. But clearly, she couldn't have chosen anything more boring.
"Hermione," Hermione recognized the voice, it was Lavender.
"In here…" she said.
Lavender's footsteps became louder pounding on the stone floor of the hallway as Hermione heard her approach.
She was walking rather fast from what Hermione could hear. She probably wanted her to try out her new perfume creation. Ugh… an expression of disgust filled her face, there was nothing worse that could ruin her day, ending up smelling like a pile of rotten meat.
"Hermione, thank God I found you…" breathed Lavender as she entered Hermione's prefect dormitory.
Hermione's glance went to Lavender's hands. No bottles, that's a good sign.
"I need you to do me a favor" she said, as she came closed in to the room.
"And what would that be?" asked Hermione meticulously. She motioned her hand for Lavender to sit down on one of the red velvet covered couches as she moved over to the end of the room.
"I need that silkening potion you used on your hair last year at the Yule Ball… Please… It's kind of an emergency," pleaded the blonde haired girl.
"Let me guess… Date with Mandy…" said Hermione teasingly, as she moved over to the drawers to search for a book.
Lavender was always, the girl you'd expect to see with a new boy almost every week. Hermione couldn't blame her… because she was beautiful, charming and intelligent. From what Hermione had been hearing, Ravenclaw's Mandy Broklehurst was her latest conquest.
Hermione grinned. "Well am I right?" She began to rummage through her closet, trying to find the book from where she took the formula for the Hair Silkening potion.
"Not exactly…" said Lavender derisorily.
Hermione dropped the book on to the floor.
"What? Changed already!?" she asked rather shocked. "Then who is it?"
"Umm…Hermione, if I say something you don't like… do you promise not to bite me?" asked Lavender cautiously. She had a feeling that Hermione wasn't going to like what she would be hearing. Lavender wasn't sure, but there was no harm in being vigilant.
"I hardly bite Lavender… but it depends. Now who is it?" said Hermione as she brought the book over to her friend. She sat herself down on the couch beside Lavender.
"That's just it Hermione,"
"Well?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Umm… it's…. Ron," Said Lavender timidly.
Hermione took a while to take this in. It wasn't that she was affected in that way… It was just that she was surprised that Lavender would think that she would be.
"Well, congratulations on getting a date with my best friend," she said conscientiously, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to make the impression that she was jealous, because she was certainly not.
Lavender's eyes seemed to light up with sudden happiness as Hermione spoke.
"You're not mad?" she said almost joyously.
"No, why should I be?"
"I thought that… You and Ron…"
"Well you thought wrong…" Hermione retorted. "Honestly, gossip tends to twist the truth a bit sometimes. Now here's the book, the potion is on page 216 I believe…"
Lavender smiled. "Thanks Hermione"
"Anytime… and good luck on your date…" said Hermione as Lavender waved leaving the room.
She smiled wearily. There had been rumors about she and Ron dating rushing about all through out the school. But of course, none of them were true.
All of those incidents were purely coincidental. When Harry was not around and there was only the two of them together. Alone. It seemed that those moments came all too often. But Hermione didn't mind and so did Ron.
They both knew that the closest the both of them could ever be to each other was best friends, and Hermione was happy with that. She was happy with the fact that there would be always people who stood up for her no matter what. Not as her lover or something more than that, but as her true friend.
Hermione knew that her friendship with Harry and Ron was worth it, because she believed; that sometimes, friendship lasted longer than love.
But too often, she wondered silently to herself, what would it be like to have that special someone in her life. Hermione was a girl, no matter what Ron had ranted on about in their fourth year… and girls loved to be flattered and liked it even more to be desired. It wasn't any different to her, 'but' she sighed thoughtfully 'will anyone ever notice?'
Hermione returned to her book after a few moments and ended up reading it for the whole hour until she decided to get some extra reading done in the library that morning.
~~*
Ginny was in the library. Hermione saw her fiery red head as soon as she entered the enormously large room.
The young girl saw her as well as she waved a happy Hello to her and invited her to sit with her.
"Hallo Ginny, and what makes you decide to stay here for the afternoon?"
Ginny smiled knowingly, she had a hunch that Hermione knew the exact words that she would answer her question with.
"Harry and Ron's ranting about Quidditch in the common room. Honestly boys, could be very annoying, without them even knowing" she said with a hint of remaining annoyance at the two boys.
Hermione twisted a lock of hair around her finger as she smiled back at her young friend.
"I know," she replied with irrevocability and conclusiveness. Hermione creased her forehead at the thought of her two friends and smiled slightly.
Hermione looked at the shelves of books beside the tables and stood to find good reference for their Monday class. The sixth years would be starting on advanced astronomy and transfiguration this year and being the smarty pants that she was, Hermione wanted to get some points for her house. After all she had Gryffindor pride running through her veins.
"Ginny, I'll be back…" she said trotting over to the isles of books.
"Of course," called Ginny from behind her.
~~
The bookshelves were packed and pilled with books, a lot more that before. Hermione heard that the library had received twenty-seven crates of new books from the Magical Order of Educationists and Scholars over the summer and had admitted an approximate count of nineteen thousand more copies.
Delighted with the news, Hermione could think of anything else but reading the whole lot ever since she read the news in the daily prophet while on the Hogwarts Express.
Straying over to the fifth isle, which was the history section, Hermione began to scan the shelves for interesting titles.
Of the new books she observed, she found revised copies of Magical History. She didn't bother to read them now, though she had plans to. Because she had browsed through the original copies almost all throughout her fifth year.
Reaching the end of the isle, something caught her eye. A black leather-clad book with bright green letters printed down its spine. It was one of the books she hadn't considered reading all throughout her life as a bookworm.
It was entitled; The Path Of Daggers; A Brief History of The Magical Dark Arts. Hermione stared at the book. Usually, she thought, books like these were kept in the restricted section. But here it was now, in her hands.
Maybe it was about time she read books like it.
The Dark Arts History books weren't exactly prohibited, they did not exactly teach Dark Magic anyway but they provided an inside historical documentary on how they evolved. Hermione had not intention to practice the dark arts, but curious of their content she decided to read the book.
~~*
Sitting on one of the corners of the library work area was Draco Malfoy. He was almost at the end of his Arithmancy essay on charted codes as a method of coding magical maladies and forbidden spells. It was supposed to be an assignment over the summer, but at the last moment, Draco had found that he was one page short, and that led him to redo the entire essay – in less than three hours.
"Done," he breathed in relief as he lay down his eagle-feather quill on the table. Putting away his pieces of parchment, Draco decided that he would start looking for a book his father told him to find before the beginning of the Christmas season.
Draco knew that it was a very long way until then, after all the school year had barely started, but still, it would be a good idea to have a head start on uncovering that specific book.
Lucius didn't say, but Draco had a pretty good idea what the book was. Or… what it concealed within its pages.
Standing up abruptly, he laid his books at the side of the table and walked towards the dark arts history section – the section he referred to as; the only sensible section of the library.
He passed Ginny Weasley on the way. From what he could see, she was reading on advanced transfiguration. She had to stop hanging out with Granger, he thought. Draco smirked, if she had her effects on Ginny, the young Weasley would be yet another smarty pants herself.
Draco turned to the right to walk down the isle of the history section, when he found the very person he had been curiously thinking about.
"Granger," he said scornfully.
Hermione turned to her right as she heard him speak. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the figure standing a few meters from her.
Hermione avoided looking in to his eyes at all costs. She had an inkling that the same thing that happened on the train would happen again if she did.
Draco looked at Hermione's meager frame at the end of the isle looking at him with disgust. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he couldn't stand the sight of her, because she was a mudblood: something lower than him. Someone of bad blood, but ironically the only one who had the guts to show disrespect to him when she found herself insulted. Not because she prided herself to be able to do that to him, and not because she believed him to be lower than her… but because she knew that no matter what he said, he deserved it.
Hermione decided that she would leave; it would waste her time to argue with Malfoy, and much more… it would be blatantly useless.
Unfortunately, she forgot one thing… Draco Malfoy never wanted to be walked away from.
"If you had any shame left in you Granger, you wouldn't leave like that," he said firmly, eying her with irritation as she took a few steps down the isle.
Hermione caught the faint glimmer in his eyes as he looked at them straight for the first time.
"It doesn't matter if I am ashamed of my actions or not Malfoy," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "I know very well that even if I do stay, you will have nothing decent to say to me…"
Draco smirked wearily. "A good presumption, Granger… I think you know me too well,"
Hermione laughed slightly, then walked towards him, in an attempt to walk out of the isle entirely.
"I'd like you to know I will not take that as a complement Malfoy…"
Draco eyed her with scorn. He held his arm out and rested his arm on the opposite shelf to stop her from passing.
"I know, I didn't ask you to…"
Hermione glared at him cynically as he did this. Draco on the other hand, found it amusing. He had royally pissed her off.
"Not going to walk away again now are you?" said Draco
Hermione frowned and faced Draco with her snottiest look.
"For your information Malfoy, Yes I am…" she stated acerbically. "And if you intend to 'punish' me for my ill-mannered behavior then go ahead…" she continued, remembering the incident of the train.
Draco looked her over. He observed her courage 'A true Gryffindor' he thought 'Brave…' he smirked and ironically raised his eyebrow at her '…but foolish'
"Really now… I'd love to Granger, but unfortunately, I don't want to get my hands dirty… and soiled; by your disgusting mudblood filth" he spat at her.
Hermione bowed her head in resentment as he said this. She hated him with a passion for being the git that he was. She hated him for being mean to Harry, Ron and her. She knew better than to pay respects to him as the entire school did because she knew that he was not estimable of that respect. After all, he was nothing without his status, wealth and influence. Without all that, Draco could be considered a man as dishonorable as a common thief.
She looked up at him with derision.
"What is it with you Malfoy? You walk around like you are the boss of everyone, like you actually have control over what everybody is supposed to do…" she almost screamed at him, but contained her anger. "But do you know what the truth is? It's that you have no right to treat anyone that way! I'm beginning to wonder if your entire race is that way… Are you Malfoy? Is your father the same way… or maybe worse? No wait, you don't need to answer that, I know your father is worse, much worse. And maybe you'll be the same way as well won't you? You'll be the same ill-natured—"
Draco clenched his fist in anger. He looked at the small girl before her, the only girl who had the courage to speak to him in such a manner. The one who believed that he never deserved anything he was given credit for. But Draco knew he did; deserve something. Anything she said meant nothing to him. She was nobody to him. She was nothing.
Her words didn't make a difference… or so he forced himself to think that. It was true wasn't it? Granger knew nothing about him, and she didn't have the right to say anything against him.
"You don't know anything about my father Granger!" he spat at her coolly as his eyes narrowed.
She took a step backwards as he said this. "I know enough Malfoy, I know enough to think that he deserves nothing less than sheer repugnance from me. I even pity you—"
"You don't have the right to have sympathy for me Granger, remember that you're nothing but a mudblood…" he said almost angrily as he looked down at the calm girl standing before him.
"You'd be lucky if I ever decided to feel that for you,"
"You're a Death Eater, what else should I feel towards you?"
Malfoy took a step towards her as she continued to look at him fearlessly. Hermione held the book closer to her chest, her mind vaguely wondered if he would attempt to hurt her again. He raised his left arm and let the black sleeve of his cloak fall to reveal a white, flawless fore arm.
There was no mark. Hermione released a breath, and for a moment, it occurred to her that it was a breath of relief.
Draco slowly put his arm down as he observed Hermione's evidently calmed features.
She looked up at him and saw his blank look. For a moment she wanted to speak but her words remained caught in her throat and nothing passed but moments of silence. Draco's eyes clouded as she looked at them. The deep gray color mesmerized her. For a moment, they seemed comforting… Hermione looked away, since when did she start to associate Malfoy with the word comforting?
Draco's eyes flickered as Hermione turned her head away from his gaze. In the back of his mind, he willed himself to come up with a witty comeback, but strangely it ceased to matter.
Draco tore his gaze from face and turned abruptly in the other direction leading out of the library. It was as if something clicked, he realized that he didn't have to stand around with a mudblood like her.
Hermione looked at his retreating figure as he left the library. She drew in a faint breath. Suddenly, it registered in her mind what he had shown her to prove that it was true; he wasn't a Death Eater. The mark was not there. 'At least' she thought 'not yet'.
Hermione felt an anomalous feeling in her stomach then. It felt oddly amusing being the one walked away from this time.
~~*
"Harry, Harry I've found it!" came Ron's all too familiar voice as he came rushing in to the Great Hall at breakfast. Harry looked up almost instantly as he gulped down a slice of pumpkin pie. (A/N: Nah I'm not an H/Hr… Never will be in fact.)
Ginny looked up at her brother as he came running in with a small brown box tied with bright blue ribbons.
"What's that Ron?" she asked almost instantly as she looked at Hermione caught up in reading Revised Advanced Transfiguration Guide, a book about as thick as one of the steps leading up to the Gryffindor- Girls Dormitory. She fairly wanted her to share a bit of enthusiasm. But Hermione didn't seem to notice that Ron even entered the great hall.
"I don't think that is any of your business" said Ron matter-of-factly at his sister. Ginny scowled in irritation.
"Mind you, I don't think that you have the right to keep secrets from me…" she replied.
"Says who?"
"Says me… and if you don't want mum to know about that little incident last summer…" she stated with a knowing smile. Ron's eyes widened at the thought.
"Blackmailed by my own sister… Alright, alright I'll tell you later" he said as he stuffed the box into his tote bag. He glanced at Hermione for a while and was relieved to see that she was lost in her own book world again. She probably didn't even hear a word he said. Ginny smiled with content.
"Where did you find it?" asked Harry as he finished his breakfast, wiping his mouth with a white napkin.
"In my trunk, it was buried under the lot of Quidditch comics…" said Ron with a smile of satisfaction.
Ginny poked at her food as Harry and Ron talked. Unfortunately, his mention of Quidditch comics didn't stop there. This was becoming a ritual… Ginny looked up as she noticed Harry laugh at a joke about Percy. Ginny was always comforted when she heard Harry's laugh; his laugh was light, relaxed, not like any of her brother's heavy howling with the exception of Percy of course. Percy almost never laughed, he was serious and composed always… or at least he tries to be. But Harry's laugh was different from the other boys… It was too bad she was the only one who noticed.
Ginny pushed a lock of her red hair from her face behind her ear as she leaned back further in her chair. Harry had always been her idea of perfect; she never admired anyone more than him. Perhaps she had a line of crushes every now and them but she could not put her finger on what Harry had that other boys didn't. Even before she had entered Hogwarts, she had admired Harry. Her admiration grew even larger when she actually met him, it was like her vision was created… and she found out that it was better than imagining. But that was a long time ago and she had accepted that she was loving hopelessly. She knew that she was, which was why she did away with her love for him in their fifth year. It seemed, a good enough choice, at least now she could talk to him openly about things.
"Ginny? Did you hear me?" came Hermione's voice as it broke in to her thoughts.
"Uhm… What were you saying," She said absentmindedly as she realized that all three of them were staring at her. Harry grinned a bit as he did and Ginny's cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson.
"I said that we are going to class now, its half past eight and time for Charms.," said Hermione as she stood up, stuffing the thick Transfiguration book in her bag. Ron stood up as well, following Hermione towards the door of the Great Hall.
"Are you coming Ginny" asked Harry quietly "We'll walk you to Transfiguration, it's just a few rooms off anyway…"
Ginny looked up and saw Harry's kind green eyes looking at her as he waited for her answer.
"N-no… I think I'll read a bit before I get to class… it starts at nine anyway" she said.
Harry smiled at her and stood up. Ginny watched him walk over to the doors of the great Hall following Ron and Hermione. As they left, she sighed inwardly.
~~*
Hermione smiled to herself as they entered the Charms classroom, with the satisfaction that they had entered class early. Harry and Ron took seats beside Lavender and Parvati, Ron almost instantly jumping in to conversation with Lavender.
Hermione sat beside them as she saw that the bench still had some space to spare. She began unpacking her scrolls of parchment and quill from her bag and set it on to her desk. The crowded classroom was filled with voices and laughter as the sixth year population of Slytherins and Gryffindors waited for the teachers to come. Earlier in the week, Professor Arabella Fig, who was the new Defense Against the Dark arts instructor had mentioned of a little treat for the sixth years which was also a requirement for three of their requisite subjects that year. Hermione who took multiple courses that included the semi due subjects such as Arithmancy and Divination, thought it unfair to only grade them in specific subjects but had no choice and had to concur.
Professor Figg had mentioned that they were to be graded in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. The last subject implied that they would be handling creatures and to Harry and Ron that was good news. Though the professor didn't mention the exact project that the sixth years would be required to conduct, she did mention that all that would not be solitary work and they were to work in teams which lessened the work load for each of them.
The Charms classroom, which was filled with noise just a few moments ago, had slowly, began to grow quiet as Professors Flitwick, Snape, Mc Gonagall, Fig and Hagrid entered the room. Ron and Harry grinned as Hagrid almost ran in to the steel chandelier hanging from the ceiling as he entered the classroom. But fortunately, the room was situated in the north towers where all rooms were built with high ceilings.
From the class erupted giggles as Hagrid carried Flitwick up to stand on a stack of Charms books so that the entire class could see him. The small professor sent a nod of thanks to Hagrid as he cleared his throat preparing to speak.
"May I have your attention" he started as the class began to grow quiet. "Thank you, well I'm sure you're all wondering why almost all your professors are here…so let us begin shall we,"
Professor Snape and Mc Gonagall sat themselves on the chairs behind the platform of the classroom and observed the class.
"This year, the Ministry of Magic, Magical Training Department had requested a special project to be conducted among you sixth years. It is linked with the updating of information on the many magical beasts and creatures of the National Wizarding Library. Since the seventh years are caught up in too much work to spare time for yet another project and the fifth years are much too young to undertake this responsibility, the Hogwarts staff has chosen you sixth years to take part in this project" stated Professor Flitwick. Hermione leaned forward in her desk as she showed utter interest in the announcement.
"Now I understand that you have an extensive knowledge on Magical Beasts from your past years of taking Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures courses so I think none of you will have difficulty in undertaking this venture. Let us have Professor Figg to extend more on the dealings of this activity. Arabella?" Professor Flitwick turned to Professor Figg as she stood before the class.
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick" the plump woman began as Professor Flitwick stepped down off the stack of books. "Now, It goes like this. You will all be assigned one species of a magical beast to study and research on in a span of three months. That period will start next week and will end on the beginning of your Christmas vacation, which will be the due date for all your results and findings. Professor Mc Gonagall has suggested a twenty rolls of parchment should be enough to cover all information on the creatures, such as the place of origin, matting habits, breeding grounds and many more… By the way, twenty rolls is not the maximum, it is the minimum number of scrolls you are required to submit by the end of the research period," At her words, the entire class groaned in protest and discrepancy.
"Surely, that isn't too little. Why they should add a couple more hundred scrolls if they wanted us to really suffer," said Ron sarcastically as he sank in his chair. Hermione turned to glare at him when the professor started speaking once more.
"I understand that having to study a magical creature by oneself will be rather difficult and if I may say dangerous, so I have decided to group you in to teams of four, and those teams will all work on one creature. Is all clear?" she asked the class.
Everyone simultaneously agreed half groaning.
"And before I forget," added Professor Figg… "To be able to have a more analytical and exhaustive research; by the end of this month, we shall have a trip to the Museum of Magical beasts situated in the highlands of Northern France, specifically in the mountains of Les Avaloirs situated in the southern part of Orne…" suddenly, the atmosphere in the room became lighter as she said those words. "There, where many beasts are situated and studied, you will have a chance to observe your creatures in their simulated natural habitat. The museum is known for its many gardens, lakes and forests which are home to these animals in case you're wondering so I'm sure every single one of you will enjoy exploring the castle grounds as well as the mountain ranges where some creatures like the Midgard serpent and the Aziza are said to roam,"
The extensively wonderful description of the museum sent most of the students on a great sentiment of anticipation.
"Do you think we'll get the manticore?" asked Ron as he turned to Harry. "I hear they're fascinating creatures.
"I hope so, and if not, something better," replied Harry as he turned to Hermione "don't you think so Mione?"
"Yes, I've read that the Kelpie is good too, as long as you don't become its victim"
Ron turned to her. "What do you mean victim?"
"I've read that it is usually described as a black beast, part horse and part bull, with two sharp horns. It has the ability to change its shape and usually when it did, it would take the form of a beautiful white horse. If passers-by mounted the horse, it would immediately gallop into the water and drown the rider. The Kelpie would then eat the flesh of the drowned victim," She said in a manner that surprised Ron.
"Wicked!" he exclaimed. Lavender turned to him with disclosure.
"You can't be serious Ron, those things are deadly," she said.
"Almost all magical creatures are actually, I've rarely read one story about a magical creature that did not involve some sort of deadly defense or ways of luring prey to them," said Parvati.
Professor Mc Gonagall stood up and positioned beside Professor Figg. "Students, your attention," she said.
"The teams are to be announced tomorrow during your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As early as this I'd like you to know that we will not accept reorganizing groups… you are to be contented with the assigned team-mates… is that clear,"
"But what If I get partnered with Slytherins?" asked Ron an all too loud voice. The Slytherins turned to the Gryffindor side and started hissing at Ron.
"They were not supposed to hear that," said Ron turning to Harry. His ears were beginning to turn bright red.
"As if any of us would want you for a team-mate Weasley… Keep your dreams to yourself," came a voice behind them, Hermione recognized it almost instantly as she turned to the backbenches of the other side of the room to look at him. Ron and Harry did the same thing. As she feared, it was Malfoy.
"Sod off Malfoy," said Ron as he turned his gaze back to the teachers. Ron was positive that Mc Gonagall would not let that pass easily.
"Sod off yourself weasel," retorted Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy, that is enough!" said Mc Gonagall, her stern voice echoed off the walls of the large room. "And Mr. Weasley… that is the point. Professor Dumbledore has requested inter house pairings, you all know how he is. So I have no choice but to impose this," she said in an evidently half-disappointed tone indicating that she did not approve of it.
Ron groaned and sunk lower in his seat. Harry gave him a comforting look and smiled.
"We'll be in the same team, don't worry," Harry whispered.
Ron raised his gaze to Lavender who looked at him with a smile.
~~*
"Draco it's not right!" snapped Blaise as Draco paced around incessantly in front of her.
Draco glared at her as he stopped in front of her.
"And since when does a Slytherin do what is right?" he spat. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and he felt spasms of pain every five minutes or so. It was like his burning of his father's letter had something to do with it, because it had been seconds after he had thrown it in to the fire when he had fallen on to a couch of his room.
It was as if his father was putting him under the Cruciatus curse for not regarding his requests.
"Listen to your father, he knows what is right. He cares for you Draco, " persisted Blaise. "He's doing this for the best,"
"My father doesn't care for me, " Draco muttered as he felt that numbness running through his body once more. He took a seat on the couch as Blaise sat across from him. "He cares for his heritage, his promises to the dark lord,"
"How can you say that Draco?" she tried continuing to reason with him, but Blaise knew that he was as stubborn as his father. Strangely, no matter how much Draco claimed to dislike Lucius, they shared to many common traits that proved they were father and son. They also had the power to shatter a woman's will as it had been with Blaise' mother and Lucius Malfoy. Blaise knew this; her mother had relayed their very short-lived love story to her so many times. As she remembered every occurrence her mother had relayed, she silently began to wonder if the same would happen to her and Draco. Lucius Malfoy had broken many women's hearts, and he had done so with not a trace of guilt.
Draco took a deep breath as he continued to speak; he chose to ignore the lack of feeling running through his body at the moment. "He never cared for me, and you know it! I don't see why he wants to present me to the dark lord at the age of sixteen… I'm not supposed to be presented until I'm nineteen…"
"You should be proud, it is an honor—"
"An honor? Do you could call lowering yourself to another person and serving as his slave an honor? My father might have accepted that but I don't want to…" retorted Draco. He turned his gaze to the fireplace of his room; where the ashes of Lucius Malfoy's burned letter remained. "It's degrading to do such a thing!" he stormed.
"Tell him you're not yet ready then, surely your father will understand," said Blaise timidly.
"Blaise, Lucius and understand are words that simply don't go together… I'll be damned the day he finds it in him to understand me, he never understood my mother as well, but he married her, because he wanted an heir. But now, now that I am here, I, his rightful heir, he doesn't give a damn about me, about what I think," he said coolly, stating the obvious.
"But think about it Draco, your refusal to accept the Dark Lord will be a disgrace… Your father has chosen the best of all honors for you and here you are simply running away from it,"
Draco looked at her. Her eyes seemed pleading, like his actions worried her. But what would his refusal cause her anyway? Draco sighed wearily, he knew the answer to that; it would cause her the agony and torture of loosing him.
As feeling began to run through his body, Draco stood up abruptly and headed for the door of his room. Blaise turned to see his fleeting figure walking towards the door. Nearing the door he spoke, looking back at her.
"I will… think about it…" he said serenely.
Upon the closing of the door, Blaise sighed. She hoped strongly that he would not slip away from her, because he meant too much to her. Though he barely noticed that fact, and though she was too pompous to admit it.
~~*
"Lucius…"
Lucius Malfoy's body was suddenly chilled as the dark lord uttered his name. He looked up at him and was ready to answer him sincerely. His father stood behind him in all anticipation and wavering pride and satisfaction.
"Yes, My lord…"
Voldemort gave a slight leer of satisfaction; hearing Lucius' obedient tone was music to his ears.
"Do you think it an honor to be able to join me?" he said.
Lucius did not hesitate in answering. "With all honesty, my lord,"
"Be it not your will?" he snapped.
"It is my will Lord Voldemort, though my father imposed it on me, I think of him a wonderful influence, for he leads me towards the path of honor and greatness. I would be a fool to denounce, that which has been so rightfully bestowed upon me. I accept this honor with all of my heart. For it will also be the will of my son in time…" he said with pride.
Voldemort sneered once more. It was so good of him to touch the subject. An expression of anxiousness crept up the Dark Lord's deathly pale features.
"Ahh Yes, A son…" he started fervently. "You see Lucius, as proof of your faithfulness and devotion to me, you must offer something of yours to me to establish trust… and of course loyalty…"
"Anything my lord, I promise to give you anything…" said Lucius with a determined look.
Voldemort drew in a breath. "You see, all in this chamber, I have asked for something of any sort, and they willingly offered it to me… Many in this room, I have asked of a skill, or talent, " He said, looking about the large hall where the other Death Eaters stood assembled before him. "I have asked of a memory of something vital to them or an experience…as I have of your father," then he focused on the young Malfoy. "But of you Lucius, I ask of something different… It is curious that I am asking so, but in time… you shall see the importance of it,''
"And what would that be my Lord?" Lucius asked eagerly, hanging on the Dark Lord's every word.
"I ask of your son Lucius," said the Dark Lord firmly.
Lucius looked at Voldemort's face and was a bit horrified to see that he was deadly serious. He bowed his head a bit to contemplate. What would this man want of his son, the son he had yet to have, to ask him for something truly his own? Was it not enough to him that he had promised his son's loyalty?
"A son my lord?" he heard his fathers stern voice from behind him "But Lucius has not a wife… "
Voldemort turned to Amadeus Malfoy. " He will have Amadeus… in time" he then looked back at the young boy before him. "I understand he is already engaged. It is a wonderful start."
"Do you accept this favor Lucius?" he asked.
Amadeus Malfoy looked at his son, fearing that he felt hesitancy.
Lucius looked up at Voldemort before he spoke. It took everything in him to answer the Dark Lord's last question…
"Yes, my lord,"
~~*
"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!"
