Disclaimer: I would be a billionaire if Harry Potter were mine, but nope, he belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Author's Note: I think the previous entry, there was a paragraph whereby the words were a little messed up; I tried replacing it - I don't know if it has changed but anyway, here is the correct paragraph:

Draco shot up straight in bed, beads of perspiration forming strands on his pale face as the moonlight streamed into the Slytherin boys' dormitory. Draco's cold fingers clutched at his bedspread, the harsh words echoing in his mind like a tape recorder. It was so…so real. The words…they seemed to have a magnetic effect – he was being drawn to the voice. It wasn't lulling – no, far from it. It was filled with dread and evil and melancholy. But it was a powerful force. Draco felt a shiver run down his spine.

Could it be that the darkness had awoken once again?

The words in bold are the corrected lines. Previously, some words from the bottom paragraphs were up there, I don't know why.

slytherin-kittycat: Thanks for reviewing! And thanks for spotting the confusion of words in Chapter 6. I'm eagerly waiting for your fic to carry on! I'm glad you liked the previous 2 chapters. And yup the real plot is coming really soon...so sit tight!

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Hermione sat by the window, gazing out into the starry night with uneasiness. It was the third night consecutively that she could not sleep after Draco had revealed to her the "truth", or what she hoped would not be. Actually, she really wanted to go and find Professor McGonagall herself to ask her why she could not stop Snape from banning the Gryffindor team from the pitch – that way neither Harry nor Ron needed to know the truth. But somehow, she felt something pulling her back; she just did not want to go forth and demand a proper explanation. She felt like just accepting Draco's words for what they were.

And she was very unhappy about that pull holding her back.

Not only was that sense of uneasiness keeping her awake, it was also that she was afraid to sleep. All along, she never had dreams about the Dark Lord as compared to Harry's constant nightmares that left him quaking even in the morning – that was, until lately, she seemed to sense that he was the voice in her dreams, demanding that he should find someone in Hogwarts to be his minion. Snape? Hermione shuddered to think that her Potions teacher would be ready to bring out his wand and thrust it at Harry during any ordinary Potions lesson and kill him outright. There would be no more Boy with the Scar. And later – no more Ron…and herself…

But what made her really queasy was that the Dark Lord had not only wanted to do that, he wanted to do it immediately. And as she looked back into the girls' dormitory, listening to the light snores, she wondered if his evil tentacles had begun to reach into the castle of Hogwarts, feeling around for the suitable candidate to do his dirty work…

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"Draco,

As you know, the Dark Lord has always favoured pureblood heritages and has high regard for the Malfoy family in particular, considering that we have served him for so many years and helped to make him the powerful dark force he is now.

I have been summoned to see the Dark Lord recently, and my son, you are in good luck to be selected by him as a potential heir (to the dark throne)! I have finally repaid my ancestors a good deed by grooming you into someone personally selected by the Dark Lord himself!

The initiation of the dark minions will be a grand affair (low-key, of course) in our mansion. But you are special, my son, he will confer upon you leader of the new batch of minions for his force and you will serve him faithfully like the generations before you. You will be officially a Death-Eater, and you will repay my faith in you. As son of the host of this prestigious event, I hope you will be more conscious of your behaviour.

Do not make the Dark Lord regret his decision, or you will suffer the consequences.

Lucius"

Draco read the letter three times through, then tore it up vehemently and threw it into the fire, scowling fiercely. Death-Eater. What prestigious role was that?! He had never wanted to follow the generations before him, submitting themselves to lick the boots of the Dark Lord. Voldemort, he mouthed silently. He didn't want to be his minion. Whenever was Draco Malfoy made to bow low to another other than his father? But then Draco knew very well: he could not betray his father's hopes. He could not treat this induction like a plaything, for both Lucius and the Dark Lord would make him pay. Now he understood the dreams that played continuously in his mind for the last few nights. Nightmares, rather. All about the Dark Lord, and his demands, and the image of him killing a man. Was he…the minion the Dark Lord was eyeing within Hogwarts?

The more he thought about it, the more he fumed.

A pain was nagging at his head, and he rubbed his temples forcefully. He was glad he had managed to find the Slytherin common room empty for once, and rid of those chattering first-years and those irritating girls –

The moment he thought about that, he groaned, as he saw Pansy Parkinson walk out of her dormitory and descended the steps to the ground floor of the common room. "Hi Draco, did your father tell you about the induction?"

Her sickly-sweet voice was so annoying Draco rolled his eyes and clenched his fists in a bid to stop himself from raging. He looked straight at the fire, not answering.

"Draco, don't ignore me. This is a big thing."

"Big?" Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Come on, Draco, surely your father must have told you about the Death Eater induction ceremony? I was told you were invited specially by the Dark Lord too! What an honour that must be!"

Draco gave a soft "wow!" sarcastically.

"Draco?" Pansy asked in a mournful tone.

"So what if he did?"

"I mean," her eyes grew wide. "Aren't you excited at all?"

"Why should I be excited about being a servant?" demanded Draco, eyes flashing, though his focus was on the fire, not Pansy.

Pansy looked rather hurt and went all martyr-like. "Oh Draco, but you know the Dark Lord is all-knowing, you mustn't say such things. He will know. Haven't you always wanted to be a powerful person? The Dark Lord can make you one…"

"When the hell did I ever say that?!" Draco snorted disgustedly, feeling very irritated by Pansy's constant whines. "And I don't give a damn if he hears me run him down. I don't want to be his minion."

"Draco!" Pansy looked horrified. "But haven't you…"

"I have never." Draco looked stoidly in front of him. "Never. Ever."

"But my mother told me…"

"Must be lies your people are stuffing you up with. You can go be his minion all you like. I haven't the slightest interest bowing down to the Dark Lord. Keep him for yourself," and with that, he got up stiffly and stormed all the way back to the boys' dormitory without another look at Pansy. He really didn't want to hear any more about the Dark Lord. He didn't know what to do – whether to please his father and carry on the Malfoy heritage of "serving the Dark force" – or to follow his heart and just turn the whole thing down – and suffer the consequences. His headache intensified and he winced as he lay down in bed, massaging his forehead. What should he do? And now if he fell asleep, he would hear the Dark Lord's calls once again…beckoning him forward…

Outside, in the common room, Pansy's eyes looked fearful for a moment after Draco had left, shifted uneasily, then squeezed into little slits. "Oh Draco," she whispered. "You don't know how much wrong you are doing yourself. Oh you really don't know."