Aren't I adorable? Updating within one day? Well, feast your eyes, people!

Chapter 2: The Laughing and the Lonely

"Ron, it's not supposed to land there!" Hermione laughed as Ron's pillow nearly went out the window.
"Observe," she told him. Her cushion flew across the room and landed perfectly into the box where it had to go.
"Well done, Ms Granger," Professor Flitwick remarked. It was Charms class and they were practicing the Banishing Charm, which was the opposite of the Summoning Charm and thrice as difficult.

Harry resumed what he was saying before Hermione's remark cut across his. "I have an idea, though. I'm planning on— oh, Muffliato," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at Seamus surreptitiously, who was beginning to show interest in their conversation. "On commanding Kreacher to spy on Malfoy. It's killing me not to know where he's disappearing off to," he finished, surprised as his pillow landed neatly on top of Hermione's. Flitwick beamed at him.

Hermione's cheeks went red for some unknown reason at the mention of Draco. Alright, she knew the reason: she still thought of that encounter in the dungeons. Nevertheless, Hermione was sure she liked Ron, maybe even loved him, and was bound to get together with him any day now. She just felt uncomfortable discussing Malfoy.

"Harry… I'm not really sure it's our business…" Hermione began but trailed off on her own, realizing what a stupid thing she just uttered.

"Our business? One of the students of this school is a Death Eater who disappears off the school's map regularly, that's not our business?" Harry stared at her incredulously.

"All right, fine… So we get Kreacher—but, just remember, he isn't a slave, Harry," she frowned.

Ron and Harry exchanged looks and were laughing in a second. Annoyed at their reaction she rolled her eyes, but pretty soon Hermione Jean Granger had to join in the laughter.

)O()O()O(

His world was crashing and he knew it.

Draco Malfoy was scared, much more than he had ever been in his life. The Dark Lord was merciless. He would torture him in ways he couldn't imagine. He would torture his mother and father worse. He couldn't help it, though. Every time Dumbledore strolled pass him in the Great Hall, his will to kill the old man weakened. Those twats Goyle and Crabbe were becoming increasingly unhelpful. Severus Snape knew he was breaking down and was ready to take full advantage. He was waiting to steal Draco's chance to save his family for the glory of achieving the feat of assassinating Albus Dumbledore.

Draco just knew one thing: I never want to kill anyone.

He wished he could be like Bellatrix, fearless, devoted to her Master, and capable of treating everyone like scum. For years he'd been brilliant at the latter. But he was crumpling now… Slowly, steadily, he crumpled.

Because Bellatrix Lestrange never had to wonder what was right and what was wrong.

Bellatrix Lestrange never had a conscience.

Bellatrix Lestrange never felt guilty when she hurt people beyond repair.

Bellatrix Lestrange never was less than joyous after she'd killed a person. Bellatrix would instead snort at their dead bodies.

Often he came across Harry and Ron. They were not exactly happy, but they were at peace. He felt a little envious when he saw them. Not remotely was this because they spent so much time with Hermione Granger. There was more than a single reason.

Because they had support.

They had people with whom they could share their fears.

They had the freedom to fight.

They had the courage to risk everything to go against odds not remotely in their favour.

They had the opportunity to do the right thing without risking their loved ones' lives. And Draco? Alone.

When he saw Hermione, he barely acknowledged her. But on the inside he felt grateful to her. She had comforted him in his darkest hour of need. He had come to realise that Granger was more than just a frizzy-haired Mudblood: she was gentle, observant, kind and extremely intelligent. She was Hermione. This epiphany did not mean that he was in love with her as he'd earlier misconstrued. It just meant that he could now respect her. It was a change, but very trivial compared to all the other changes.

Draco would like to love her if he could. But the look in her eyes when she saw his Mark was enough to remind him who he was. As the days passed, he had resolved he would keep his distance from her. He was doing well, as she had stopped crossing his mind completely.

Draco remembered how his father would drone on and on about Lord Voldemort's conquests dreamily by the fireplace when he was little, and Draco would wish that one day the Dark Lord would return so that he could serve him.

Now he was confused. He didn't know what he wanted. But it didn't matter what he wanted anyway. There was no other way than Voldemort's.

He was never given an option.

He did not have a choice.

He never did.

His parents had practically raised him to become a Death Eater.

Albus Dumbledore had to die for his family to live. Draco had resumed working on an abandoned plan. It was the only way.

But the lonely Draco Malfoy's will persisted to crumble.

Author's Little Note:

My heart goes out to Draco in this one. :'(

Wondering what happens next? Well, SPOILER ALERT: The next chapter will be incredibly short, but particularly important. And I have finished writing it, but I'm just looking for a thumbs-up from you people (you know what I mean, don't you?) before I upload the little piece. Curious yet? *villainous grin*