Warning: This chapter is very dark and includes scenes of torture. If you don't want to read the violent sections, I have bolded where to stop reading and where to start again. It is referenced in the later section so you won't miss anything.
Disclaimer: The plot belongs to me but everything else is from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling
1996 - August
The summer had been a disaster. Just when he had finally started to figure things out, his entire life had to be flipped upside down.
Him and his mother had been close once. Well, as close as a pureblooded mother was allowed to be with her son. She wanted him to go to Hogwarts when his father desired for him to go to Durmstrang. She had wanted him closer to home and argued the point strongly enough to make his father give in to her wishes. Draco's mother had made sure he had everything he needed or could ever hope to have growing up. He had been spoiled rotten as a child. Even though she could not show much affection, or give too much attention to Draco as a young boy, she had done the best she could in the formal pureblood culture.
Now, her old self seemed to be destroyed and Draco hated to see his proud and elegant mother this way. Narcissa Malfoy was cold, silent, and withering. She had not taken well to the imprisonment of her husband and had been very distant all summer.
Draco sat across from her at the long dining room table. The manor was quiet, but the silence almost prickled with the newfound tinge of dark magic. The Dark Lord had been using their home as a base for their evil schemes.
He knew this all was very difficult for his mother, with her husband in Askaban, her son following in his father's path to become a Death Eater, her home being used to house some of the vilest acts imaginable. Draco noticed that she had a hard time even looking at him since he had been marked.
With everything going on, all the horrors he faced, one thing had become certain.
Draco had feelings for Hermione Granger.
It had taken him a long time, but he had finally accepted it. It wasn't as though he could fight the emotions that flooded through him at even a glance of her wild and untamed hair, or the reactions evoked within him at the sound of her voice.
He also understood that he still had a roll to play. Just because Draco had accepted what Granger did to him didn't mean it was alright for anyone else to know. His friends would still shun him, they would tell their fathers, many of whom were Death Eaters, and he didn't even want to think about what would happen if his own father found out, not to mention the horror that would follow if his affections were discovered by the Dark Lord himself.
He had to be careful.
Draco wished that things were different, that he didn't have to pretend to believe the things he had been taught growing up, that he didn't have to be horrible to Granger, that he could act on his feelings and possibly know even a hint of happiness. He knew this was all impossible, that it was more painful to imagine the what-ifs of life that would never be. He wanted a chance with Granger that would never be possible to have.
It wasn't as if she would ever feel the same way about him after all the years of bullying, insulting, discriminating. Granger hated him and that wasn't about to change. This wishful thinking was the closest he would ever get to having a relationship with her other than enemies.
Draco had heard about the prophecy, the one the Dark Lord was after, but he didn't think Potter and his little club would actually try to stop him. Now it was out, the whole world knew that the Dark Lord was back. This should have been a good thing, but since he had taken the Dark Mark, the thought brought more fear. He would be labeled the same as the other Death Eaters and sentenced to Askaban, if not the dementor's kiss.
His father had been caught working for the Dark Lord in the department of mysteries in the attempt to steal the prophesy for him. Lucius Malfoy had been sent to Askaban which meant his entire family was under the watchful eye of the ministry. Because of his father's recent absence, as well as punishment for his failure to gain the prophecy, Draco had been 'chosen'. He was forced to take the Dark Mark this summer and he was plain terrified of what that meant for his future.
He wished he could get out of this and be by Granger's side. He had heard that she had taken a pretty bad hit from a dark curse and was in serious condition. Dolohov had actually bragged about hurting the 'mudblood'. Draco knew he wasn't cut out for this. He couldn't seriously injure people, he couldn't torture, or kill another living thing. Sure he was a bully in school, but to actually cast a dark curse on another person, he wasn't sure he could do it.
He thought about Granger and if she was alright. It wasn't as though he could get any information on her current state at the moment. Nobody cared enough about some mudblood to follow up. They found more pleasure in just knowing she was in pain. Draco was itching to go back to school to make certain she was okay. Surely she was. She had Potter and Weasley to look out for her and help her to recover.
She didn't need him to be hanging around, she didn't want him hanging around. It was best that he keep his distance anyway. If he was labelled a Death Eater, he couldn't be caught being nice to a muggle born. It would have horrible consequences for them both. No, he had to be his mean old self so that no one would suspect a thing.
Draco wanted to keep her as far away from this war as possible, for as long as possible.
1997 - March 1
Saturday night came upon Draco far too quickly. After the walk around the property he had taken with Hermione in the snowy forest, the two had gone back inside, freezing cold and sopping wet. For once in his life, he didn't mind the feeling. Him and Hermione had laughed together, ran together; like a childhood do-over. He just wished it hadn't been marred by thoughts of what was to come that night.
Once they were dry and warm, Draco had gotten out the wizard's chess and Hermione made hot chocolate, bringing it by the fire. While wrapped in cozy blankets and drinking the hot cocoa, they played chess. It was the most evenly matched game Draco thought he had ever played. It was both a challenge and quite enjoyable to be playing with an intelligent witch like Hermione.
As it got later and Hermione went to bed, Draco paced back and forth across his bedroom floor, waiting anxiously, dreading the moment that midnight would arrive when he had to apparate to Malfoy Manor.
He hated that place now. It only held bad memories that he never wanted to go back to. Unfortunately, tonight, he didn't have an option. Somehow, Draco had to turn off his conscience, his feelings and emotions, in order to just get through the night.
It was time. With a deep breath, he disapparated.
Malfoy Manor seemed dark, as if Death himself had crept in to take residency there. Draco had to control himself. The other Death Eaters could sense fear, and he was trembling with it. His heartbeat seemed so loud, that the whole world could hear it beating like a drum against his chest.
"Draco's here!" his Aunt Bella squealed excitedly "First revel!" The insane woman grabbed Draco's shoulders and shoved him into the middle of the group that had gathered.
"So exciting that you could join us tonight. Always good to have some fresh blood in the mix," Dolohov said.
That this revel seemed to be something they were all looking forward to was sickening. He wanted nothing more than to be back at the cabin with Hermione.
Draco looked around, expecting to see the Dark Lord entering at any moment.
"The Dark Lord won't be coming tonight," his Aunt told him, picking up on his anxiety. "He had more important things to deal with. But he did give, certain instructions." Draco didn't like what she was implying.
Once everyone had arrived, they gathered together and apparated to where they were to bring terror that night.
They stood outside of a muggle neighborhood. Pouring rain thundered down around them as if foreshadowing what was about to happen. They split off into groups of two to enter one house along the street and commence their nauseating form of fun.
"I get to go with Draco!" Bellatrix sang like a schoolgirl happy with her pairing for some sort of group project. "This will be so much fun! I get to show you how things really get done."
They marched up to the house and Bellatrix blasted in the door, strutting inside and examining the modest muggle home that she seemed to find quite disgusting. When a man came down the stairs to see what the noise was all about, the first curse was cast.
"You take this one," she whispered in Draco's ear. "Remember that this is a test from the Dark Lord. He doesn't believe that you actually killed the mudblood girl. But if you can kill now, it means you were actually capable of killing her before. Don't make the Dark Lord hunt you down." Then she added, "Oh, and make sure to make him suffer. I want to hear him scream."
Draco froze, gripping his wand tightly. So that was what this was for. If he couldn't kill the man pleading on the ground in front of him, both he and Hermione would be dead. Bellatrix laughed and made her way up the stairs, leaving Draco alone with the quivering man.
"Please!" the man cried. "Not my family!"
Knowing he had a family made this even more difficult. Draco scrunched his face, trying not to cry. How could he do this? It wasn't him, it wasn't who he wanted to be. But if he didn't do this now, everyone would know that he hadn't killed Hermione. He had to keep her safe.
He had been forced to torture people before and every time he had been sick. Every time, it killed a small part of him inside. What he had not yet been made to do before his most recent mission was to kill one of their victims. This time, he would be responsible for it all.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing the pain that was about to be thrown upon this man.
"Crucio!"
The curse ripped through him. He didn't want to be doing this! The man's screams at his feet was like a sword to his chest. It made him want to throw up. This was not alright. Draco looked around trying to discover a way to get the man out without letting Bellatrix know that he couldn't do it. But there was no option. Whatever he did to help this family would put Hermione and himself in danger.
Draco heard the high pitched scream of a child coming from upstairs and he squeezed his eyes shut. Was his aunt torturing a child? He felt a tear on his cheek and quickly wiped it away. He had to get control of himself before Bellatrix came down and found him like this. He thought about what would be best to do in this situation. He didn't want this man to keep suffering.
He decided it would be best to kill him now and make up some excuse after. At least his pain wouldn't be prolonged. Slowly, he raised his wand again, shaking so hard that he thought he might miss. Could he really take another's life? His mouth didn't want to form the words, his heart dreaded the inevitability of the shattering of his soul.
"Please! Please don't!" the man begged. "What did we ever do to you?"
Nothing. Completely nothing. Just the fact that you were born makes you a target, Draco thought. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He had to do this. He knew if he didn't, there would be little possibility of leaving this night alive. At least he had given Hermione back her wand, but she would never be safe. He took a shaky breath to try to steady himself. He had to do this.
The man in front of him cried and pleaded, for both himself and for his family. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to watch the man's life slip away.
"Avada Kedavra," his voice sounded strange to his ears, but it had been done. A bright green light filled the room and the man was silent. Draco fell to his knees. He had done it. He had taken another's life in cold blood. He was a monster, he was evil. His entire being felt filled with a darkness that was so complete it seemed as if it would never see light again.
The screaming was still going on upstairs. Draco just wanted it all to stop! He needed to be gone from there; anywhere but there. He would rather be the man he had just killed than feel like this. How could he live another day knowing what he had just done?
More tears spilled down his face, and again, he quickly wiped them away. He had to act as though he was enjoying this, like he just couldn't wait any longer to kill that man, that he was so excited he just couldn't control himself. He stood up and took a few more deep breaths. The worst was over now. All he had to do was wait and play the role he always had.
The screaming upstairs stopped suddenly and that could only mean one thing. Bellatrix had finished with her fun and had finally killed them. He heard her footsteps coming down the stairs and knew he had seconds to freeze his emotions and prepare to fake excitement and enthusiasm for the horrors that had just occurred.
"Oh, Draco. Why did you kill him so soon? He only screamed for a few minutes. Missed out on half the fun!" she scolded.
"I guess I got a bit over excited. Just couldn't control myself," he replied mechanically, hoping it was what she would want to hear.
"Understandable, understandable." She smiled. "For everyone it's something different. You got a taste of the power of taking a life and now you can't wait to do it again! That's my nephew!" she cheered and grabbed his arm skipping outside.
Agonized screams could be heard from the other houses down the street and as hard as Draco tried to block it out, tried not to let it affect him, he couldn't stop the anguish that filled his soul. He was one of these people now. He was evil, a murderer, a Death Eater.
Bellatrix raised her wand into the air and with a cackle, cast the Dark Mark into the sky.
"Do you want to have the honor of burning the place Draco?" Bellatrix asked.
It wasn't as if he could really turn the offer down without sounding suspicious so he agreed, attempting to seem eager.
"Incendio," he said, sending the house up in flames. He looked behind him in disgust seeing his Aunt dance around in the light of the fire yelling and laughing, head tilted towards her curse in the sky. He couldn't believe he was related to this person, if you could even call her one. She was completely insane and in no way should be able to roam free.
"Come back to the Manor with us and we'll celebrate!" she called to him as other houses on the street were set alight.
"I have so much work to do for school. It's hard being the top of the class," he replied, emphasizing that he was now the top since Hermione was supposedly dead.
"Right! So proud, Draco! So proud!" Draco hated that he could make his Aunt proud of him for anything.
Without another word, he disapparated from the horror filled neighborhood to arrive back in the familiar woods of the cabin.
Draco ran inside and headed straight for the bathroom where he dropped beside the toilet and retched. He could not believe what had happened that night, what he had done. The weight felt so heavy upon him as if he was being pressed into the earth, unable to breath. His chest ached and he longed to just disappear, or go back in time to before all this happened. He had promised himself that he would do anything to keep Hermione safe. This was not something he had considered.
After he had vomited up everything he had in his stomach, he leaned his head back against the cupboard under the sink and let his emotions finally be released. He cried like he never had before, tears streaming down his face making his cheeks feel wet and sticky.
There was a knock on the door. Hermione. Had he woken her up? Draco didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want her to know the monster he had become. He didn't answer but the door creaked open anyways. He wanted to stop crying, but he found that it was an impossibility.
"Draco? What's happened?" she asked, opening the door farther.
He didn't answer. All that she had said about him not being evil, it was all wrong now. He was just as bad as any other Death Eater.
Hermione sat down beside him.
"Remember, you're not alone anymore. You don't have to struggle or hurt by yourself," she told him.
If she knew what he had done, she wouldn't want to be beside him, she would want to get as far away as possible from him. Even so, something deep inside told him that he might feel somewhat better if he was allowed to let out the horrors of what had occurred in the appropriate disgusted manner instead of talking about it as if it was a good thing.
"They made me go tonight," he said, voice shaking.
"Go where?" Hermione asked.
"Go on the revel. To a muggle neighborhood," he got out between sobs.
The concern on her face was overwhelming. "They made you do terrible things didn't they."
Draco nodded, not wanting to tell her anymore, not wanting to see the disgust, disappointment, and anger contort her face. But he forced himself to continue. She needed to know who he really was, what he was capable of. It wasn't right to keep her in the dark about something as horrible as this, how dangerous the person she was currently living with was.
"I tortured a man while Bellatrix, she tortured his children upstairs. It was a test. I had to kill him or else they'd know. They'd know that I didn't kill you. They'd come after you. I killed him, Hermione. I killed him when he had done nothing wrong. I killed him after he begged. He begged us not to hurt his family, begged me not to hurt him, not to kill him…" he couldn't go on. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the dreaded emotions that would follow, bracing himself for her harsh words.
But they never came. Instead, warm arms came around him and drew him into an embrace, one of her hands coming up and gently pulling his head down onto her shoulder. Why didn't she leave? Why wasn't she cringing away from him? How could she stand to be around him?
"I don't want to go back," he found himself saying. "They're going to make me do it again."
"Then don't go back," she told him softly. She didn't understand.
"I'll have to. No one gets out once they're in. Anyone who has tried has been hunted down and killed," he explained.
"But no one else knows this place exists do they?" she asked.
"No, but they'll find it. They always find the deserter." He sniffled, trying to get the tears to stop flowing.
"Dumbledore could help you. He could protect you."
He sat back and looked into her worried eyes. "Anyone from your side would take one look at me and send me straight to Askaban. I don't understand how you can even bear to be near me knowing what I've done."
"Oh Draco. You and I both know that isn't who you are. The Order would surely see that as well. You didn't want to do these things, you had too, were forced to. And not just to protect yourself, but to protect me," she said.
He didn't believe that the Order would protect him and keep him free. He was evil. He was a monster. Had he really told her that he did those things to protect her? He guessed that he had implied it. Draco hadn't expected her to react this way to learning that he had tortured and killed someone.
"Don't let this define you. The way your feeling right now, that is what separates you from the others. You are a good person Draco. Don't let yourself get dragged down into the darkness," she expressed.
Draco was shocked. After she had heard about what he had done, after being terrorized by him for years, she called him a good person. This didn't make sense! How could he be good when he had done such evil things?
She grabbed his hand in hers. "You're not alone Draco."
Those words echoed in his mind.
He wasn't alone.
He wasn't alone.
He wasn't alone, but the only reason he wasn't was because Hermione was forced to be there. He wasn't alone because he had put her in an extremely dangerous situation. Draco found himself doubting. Were they really friends or was she just being nice? A small part of him wanted to believe that she was truly his friend. Why else would she be sitting on a bathroom floor with a mess like him in the middle of the night?
It didn't matter the reason. He was emotionally wrecked and she was there, holding him close as he cried. Goodness was in her nature, and right now, she was the only thing the pieces of his soul were clinging to.
He had done this to protect her.
Hermione wasn't sure what to think of the situation.
The thought horrified her that a family was tortured and murdered so that no one would discover she was alive. In her mind, those people were dead because of her and the notion evoked a physical pain deep inside.
She wanted to be furious with him, she wanted to scream, and cry, and hit, and run; but she couldn't. Hermione couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but overwhelming sadness.
She sat on the bathroom floor, with Draco Malfoy tucked into her embrace. Hermione saw how this event had broken him, how he felt he had no other options. He wasn't evil, but he was surrounded by it on all sides, pressing in on him, trying to snuff out any goodness the boy contained.
Hermione knew that this, the tears he shed, the way he thought of what had happened, all of it pointed to something more. Draco wasn't like the Death Eaters who laughed and enjoyed the sight of others in pain. He was deeply distraught over the events of the night and never wanted to go back there.
She knew that Dumbledore would help him, but Draco couldn't see that. Did he think he deserved to be in Askaban? Was that how he saw himself? Hermione had more faith than that in Dumbledore. When everyone else told him it was wrong, the man stuck to his beliefs and let not only muggle born witches and wizards study at the school, much to the displeasure of the pureblooded families, but also a werewolf and half giant teach. There was no way in Hermione's mind that he would abandon Draco now. But she also knew that she would have a difficult time convincing the distraught boy of that.
As the sobs diminished to shaky breaths, Hermione held tight to Draco's trembling body.
She wanted to tell him that everything was alright, but it wasn't. She wanted to say that she knew they would get through this, but she didn't know anything for certain, not even if the two of them would live to see the end of this war. All she knew was that they were there, together, sitting on the bathroom floor in silence, her pajamas wet with his tears.
Author's Note:
Happy Sunday everyone! Wow, that was an intense chapter!
Thank-you so much bennettfan84, chainline, and FortyFandoms for your reviews! Hearing your thoughts always makes my day.
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