Chapter 7 – Nightmares

When Pansy finally stops crying, I take her to the bleachers so she can sit down since she's still shaken up pretty bad. I can't help but feel like part of this is my fault – Pansy almost got executed for trying to save my life. If she died because I was stupid enough to agree with Goyle in dueling, I'd never live it down.

"Hey." Blaise says as he walks over, "She okay?"

Pansy has her head against my shoulder, as I'm hugging her against me, "Yeah, I think she'll be fine." I say flatly.

"Well, on the plus side, you won't have to worry about Goyle anymore."

I try not to laugh, "Yeah, until the Games…"

"But at least for now he'll be out of your way. He's being sent to training solitude and their even taking the dueling section away. I heard some Game Keepers talking about it while they pulled Goyle's bloody body off of the floor."

"Well, good."

Blaise looks down at Pansy, "What kind of spell did you use anyway? Looked pretty… painful…"

A chill runs down my spine, "Tell me about it." I say to myself as I look around for Harry. He's with Ron at the weaponry that's actually not too far from where we're sitting. I never did thank him for sticking up for me…

"Blaise, can you take care of Pansy for a minute?" I say, and feel Pansy shifting off of me as I speak.

"Sure." He says before sitting in my spot.

I know Ron won't like the idea of me talking to Harry, in fact he's looking at me right now as I'm walking towards them. He does not look happy. In fact his face is so red with anger it's almost the color of his hair. Harry doesn't seem to notice but Ron taps his shoulder to get his attention. When Harry picks up his head I'm already there.

"Hey…." I say dully, trying to avoid Ron's eyes.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Get lost." Ron says coldly, "You only cause trouble whenever you're around."

"Ron." Harry says, a bit angrily, like he's telling Ron to shut his mouth with the bitterness of his tone.

"What? That's the deal, he knows it." Harry smacks his arm.

I roll my eyes, "I didn't come here for you, Weaslebee."

"A little too old for nick names, aren't we?"

"Ron, stop it. He almost died twice today, would you lay off?" I bit my lip. I really wish he would stop sticking up for me. It makes me look weak, and that's the last thing I need right now. At least Goyle isn't here to observe this…

Ron looks taken aback and glares at me before leaving the weaponry in a huff, mumbling something insulting under his breath, but I don't take the time to harass him about it.

"Sorry." Harry says. "About him…."

I swallow hard. I feel nervous to talk to him for some reason, "It's okay…"

"So, what's up?" I'm about to tell him, but I stop, and watch as he throws his spear at a target that's pined to a wall about twelve feet away. My eyes widen. He got it perfect; right in the middle. It took me at least 20 minutes to beat up a dummy and it took him about 5 seconds to hit a target. I'm pretty impressed, actually.

"U-Uhmm." I'm still in shock at what he just did and I can't take my eyes off that spear in the wall. "How… How did you do that?"

"Do what – oh, it's easy." He goes over to get his spear out of the wall, "I can show you if you want?"

"I use an axe, though." I say, "Not a spear."

Harry shrugs as he walks back over, "It's almost the same difference. Come on."

"You… you wanna teach me? Is this a trick?"

He smirks, "No." He says with a bit of a laugh, "I don't wanna end up like Goyle. Don't worry."

"What if…. but I can take your head off… I'm clumsy with weapons."

"You won't, trust me. I'll stay out of your way. Just aim for the target and you'll be fine."

I look over at the target he just hit. It's so far away, and that little dot in the middle looks so small from where I'm standing. "H-How?" I ask, my voice cracking a bit. Calm down, it's just Potter. I know I like him, but I shouldn't feel this awkward around him.

He goes over to the weapon rack nearby and pulls off my axe, handing it to me.

"How do you know how to even do this, Potter?" I say.

"Hermione." He says.

I blink, "She even reads books on this stuff?"

"She's been studying self-defense since the first annual games."

I shrug and twirl my axe patiently, waiting for him to say something. "Okay. Now what do I do." He stands in somewhat of a martial arts T-stance with his left foot pointed at the target, while his right foot looks like it's about forty-five or ninety degrees to it. I'm confused already and try to copy him. "Keep your knees loose; don't be stiff." He says.

I shift a bit and loosen up, rising my weapon in probably the wrong way. "Like this?"

"…No." He moves out of his stance but I stay still. Now, he's moving behind me like he's teaching me how to play golf. I feel my face flushing up.

He grabs my arm that's holding the axe and shifts it so my weapon is lined up with my shoulder. "Straighten your back." He says. The pressure of his breath on my neck shoots a chill up my spin. "I'm nervous." I say. "Don't be, it's just practice. Now straighten." I pin my back up straight, and I can hear a little laugh of amusement escape him.

He moves my other hand outward, just slightly, for balance.

"Am I ready?"

"Almost." He backs off to look me over. Apparently I'm still wrong because he comes back, only this time he grabs my hand and moves it down to the very end of the axe handle. "Okay, uhm… Try anchoring a fingertip on the bottom of the handle." I do what he says and he turns his head at the target. "You're about 12 feet away…"

"What's that mean?"

"Well, it'll end up doing one full rotation when you throw."

"When do I throw?"

"…You're still standing wrong for some reason…"

"Well, fix me, Potter!"

"I'm working on it, hold on." Suddenly I feel stiff. He moves his hands down to my waist to gently turn me. Now my jumpsuit is really feeling tight. "You're waist just needed to be square. Okay. I think you're ready." He takes his hands off of me and moves them back up to my right arm. He bends it outward like he's testing the throw, only he's not extending my arm fully. "Now, when you throw, your elbow should be bent slightly so it isn't locked out straight – try thinking of hammering a nail into the wall. And when you swing, swing the axe face down with just enough force to get it right."

"Okay…" I say uneasily.

He backs off to give me room, "Now, throw."

Something tells me not to and I just stay still. "What if I miss…?"

"It's okay. Just try not to think about it."

"Potter, how do you not think about it?"

"Shut up, Malfoy, and throw."

"I can't-"

"Now."

"Without thinking?!" Now I'm under pressure, "How do you throw a weapon without thinking about it?! You're an awful teacher, Potter!"

"Don't think just throw. Draco, it's not that difficult." He sounds calm and that alone is getting on my nerves.

My mind is going all over the place that I actually forget what I'm doing. The next thing I know I let my arm go and my axe is in the target. I freeze for a moment before I can grasp what just happened. "Did I just do that?"

Harry smirks and crosses his arms across his chest, "Think I'm a bad teacher now?"

"Harry!" Ron calls from the weight section, waving him over. "I'll be right there." Harry says back, "Well… bye, Draco."

I catch his arm before he can walk away from me, "Potter… Uhm… I wanted to thank you… for – I mean – with Goyle… you didn't have to do that."

He smiles softly at me, "Yes I did. I'll see you, Malfoy." Finally, I let go of his arm and he runs off. I got the opportunity to thank him but I still feel like something is missing. Yes – admitting that I like him, but that's never going to happen. I need to say I'm sorry for what happened on the train first. Harry isn't the one to forget about things, actually, stuff like that stays on his mind for a long time, but he'll never bring it up or show he's hurt. My next thought really turns my stomach – everything that happened between us in the past is probably nagging at his mind. Why did he feel the need to save my pathetic life anyway? And why would he help me with survival like he just did? Why does he care if I die? No one else does… everyone here just cares about themselves; all they care about is worrying about how they'll live, no one else's lives should matter to them. Although, Harry's and Pansy's lives matters more to me than anything, maybe mine matters the same to them. Why – I don't know. I just wonder what death feels like. Is there a Heaven? Will I even go there if there is one? What if all I see is blackness for eternity? I feel cold at the thought.

"Draco?" I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Pansy. I guess she can tell I'm out of it. For some reason I can't look at her, instead I look around the center. We're all here to train just to take each other's lives. This is wrong. I don't care if I'm a Death Eater – that doesn't mean I agree to this. That doesn't mean I like seeing people get killed – people I love – people I'm friends with…

"Draco." Pansy says again.

"Sorry…" I say and turn my head to look at her. "Lost in thought again…"

"You wanna head back down? It's three o'clock."

I nod at her and head out to the elevator, glancing over my shoulder at Harry as I walk to the doors. He just threw a weight bigger than Goyle's head about 15 feet. My stomach sinks. I couldn't even lift that weight if I tried, especially if it's as big as Goyle's fat head.

"Dray. You coming." Pansy says.

"Yes..." I say flatly before joining her and Blaise in the elevator down the hall.

"Draco, you look ill." Blaise says as he grabs my shoulder. I'm leaning against the crystal wall, slouched over. He's right, I feel a bit dizzy, and I don't know why. The Games are three days away, so many it's anxiety. I wonder what they even do with the bodies once they're – you know… dead? And why did such a horrid thought even cross my mind?

I groan as I place my hand on my forehead. "Let me see him." Pansy says, pushing my hand away to feel my forehead. "You're a bit warm. When we get back, I'll tell Snape you need to rest."

"You think Snape will allow that?" Blaise says with a laugh.

"I'll make him, Blaise, don't worry. Just tell Snape what happened and I'll get Draco to his room."

The whole elevator is spinning so I don't even answer, but I see Blaise nod when the door slides open. Two Hufflepuffs walk in while we walk out.

"Snape." Pansy says. Sure enough, he's back with Umbridge and they're sitting at the table talking. I didn't even notice them leave the Training Center. "I'm taking Draco up to his room to rest."

"No you're not, Parkinson, he needs to train and so do you."

She's about to answer but Blaise takes over, "He did pretty well, Snape. I think he deserves a rest."

Snape looks thoughtful for a moment and Umbridge gives him a slight nod. "Fine. He can rest. But I want you back at the center, Blaise."

"Thank you, Snape." Pansy says and looks over at Blaise. He gives her a sad look, "I'm sorry, Pansy… can you take care of him from here?"

"Don't worry, Blaise, he's in good hands."

He gives her a grateful smile before going back to the elevator.

I clumsily follow Pansy up the stairs to get to my room. Honestly, I don't know why I feel like this. Maybe it was from over thinking, or the thought of losing everything. Whatever it is, I hope it passes soon.

"If you can talk, tell me what happened." She says as she sits me down on my bed.

I shake my head, "Dizzy." I say.

"Okay, lay down." She pushes my chest until my back is against my bed. I see her get up but I grab her arm, "Don't go." I rasp.

"I'm not going anywhere." She says. For some reason my vision is blurry so I just keep my eyes shut and turn over on my side. The bed moves – like someone just go on it from the other side – and I feel something hug me. Slowly, I open one eye. Pansy's got her face buried into my chest and her arms wrapped around me.

"You'll be okay." She says, "I mean in the Games. I saw you with Harry. It was pretty impressive what you did."

"Really?" I manage to say and wrap my arms around her waist.

"Yes." She cuddles closer to me. "You're going to win, Draco. I know you are."

"Pansy, why don't we just run away?" I don't know what makes me say this, but I don't want to win without her.

"They'll kill us, that's way."

"We can sneak out. It's not like they can find us – the Capitol is huge."

"And if we do run away, how far will we get before they do?"

I sigh, "This just… isn't right. How long can this go on? More of us will be scarified, year after year and for what?"

"What could you do, Draco? This is your dad's decision. Haven't you even talked to him about it?"

I nod, "Yes. I told him when these Games were still in the thinking stage. The thought of actually sacrificing teenagers made me sick… I only got a smack in my face for telling him the whole thing is wrong."

Suddenly she pulls back, "He hit you?!"

"It's not a big deal. Hermione punched me once, and Goyle almost broke my ribs and skull this week. Plus I got several death threats from him…"

"Draco, this is different, he's your father, you're his son. This has to stop."

"Why does it matter to you?" I want to yell, but I'm still a little dizzy, though I think I'm starting to come out of it.

"Why does it matter?" She echoes, "Draco, why do you think nobody cares about you? Both Harry and I attempted to save your life today-"

"I never asked to be saved, and neither one of you had to do it."

She looks taken aback, "And you were clearly able to handle yourself when Goyle almost brought that sword down on your head."

"What was I supposed to do?! If I tried to hit him back I would have gotten in trouble too. Besides, I'm terrified of him. Whenever he looks at me it's like he's trying to kill me with his eyes."

"Seems to me like he's scared of you."

"Oh, yeah, you can smell the fear." I say with a laugh.

"I'm just saying, I think he knows you're capable of winning."

"Mhmm. Okay. I'm gonna go get changed." I say and get up from the bed, slowly. I still feel a bit dizzy, but much better than before. Whatever that was, at least it's gone now.

"I am too. Can I come back when I'm done? I don't want to be alone." She says.

I don't really want anyone in my room, but I personally don't want to be alone either. So I just nod at her and go over to my dresser. When she finally leaves, I go to change in the bathroom into something more casual – a pair of jeans and a black hoodie.

I wonder if Pansy knew Goyle wanted to duel me. She could have overheard Goyle saying something to Crabbe or Marcus. Maybe that's why she snuck her wand in. I still don't want anyone risking their life for me, whether it's Potter or Pansy. Harry already saved my life once, I don't need him to make a habit of it, and I just don't want him to die. I'd rather him win the Games than me – he deserves it after all. Potter has nothing. He's got no family and he's living on his own back home. If he wins these Games he's set for life. But, again, this is all so wrong. I can't even confront my father about it – if I do, and if he does stop these Games, the other Death Eaters will probably kill him for it anyway. My father isn't the one to just let things go, so talking to him about it won't make much of a difference.

Sighing, I look down at the dark mark on my arm once my jumpsuit if finally off. I wonder what people really think about a Death Eater being in the Games. And what if I do die, how will that reflect on my father? They might think of him as weak. And I personally think he is. I'm through lying to myself – I hate him. I wish he were dead, because if he were, these Games would probably end. But he's too weak and scared to make a stand even though he knows this is all inhumane.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door. "Draco, I'm back." Quickly, I pull my sweatshirt on – making sure I'm wearing one this time – and go to open the door.

"They're cooking downstairs, are you hungry?" Pansy asks.

I shake my head.

"Will you please eat something? You'll shrivel away!"

"I'm not hungry. You go down if you want, I'm taking a nap, we have our sessions tomorrow, we'll need rest."

"And we'll also need food."

I almost forgot about our individual sessions. Training lasts for three days, but on the last day we only have regular training in the morning. Around three o'clock are our individual session for the Game Keepers where we each show them what we've learned in the past three days. After, they broadcast our scores on live TV so everyone can see how awful we did. I still don't know what I'll do for my session. Beat up a dummy maybe, but I still don't know for sure.

"We can always go down later." I say and turn around to go to my bed. I can hear Pansy shut the door behind her as she walks in.

"I suppose…"

I lie down on my bed and feel her crawl onto my chest. I blink and stiffen up a bit. "You said you wanted a nap, so good-night." She nuzzles against me and I can't help but smile and hold her closer.

I'm back at my manor, but the whole house is empty. "Dad?" I say aloud. The whole room echoes since there's nothing but black walls around me, like I've been dragged in by the darkness. I take a few carful steps forward as if the floor would crumble from under me and swallow me up into nothingness. "Draco…" A raspy voice says. I pick my head up see my father standing in a doorway, which must have just appeared, since it wasn't there when I walked in. He looks... almost ill. His hair is still long, but slightly matted and his eyes look black as if he hasn't gotten a decent sleep in years. "He wants to see you." He says.

"Who wants to see me?" It's like he doesn't even hear me and just turns to walk through the doorway. He disappears in the blackness. Through that doorway looks like a blank piece of black paper, like entering a pitch black tunnel to find no way out the other side. At first, I'm afraid to follow him, but something tells my legs to move forward.

"Welcome, Draco." A snake like voice says. My heart starts to pound in my chest. In front of me is an almost empty room with one long table set in the middle. Death Eaters are sitting around it, their heads down, like he'll kill them if they dare to look up.

He's sitting at the head of the table and slowly stands up to walk towards me. I try to back up, even though I want to run, but the door slams shut behind me. For a second it feels like my heart stops beating.

What is happening? What does he want with me?

I keep backing up with every step he takes to me until my back is pressed to the wall. My breath hitches with fear. "I have a mission for you, Draco." Voldemort says. He grabs my left arm roughly and I pull it away fast.

"I'm not doing anything for you." I snap with a slight quiver to my tone. Voldemort's face drops, so serious he looks about ready to kill. I'm so scared to the point where I feel like I can't breathe. "Don't hurt me…"

"I'll do more than just hurt you." He hisses before raising out from his pure black cloak. My eyes shoot open and I try to run – where, I don't know, just somewhere away from him.

"Curcio!"

My whole body suddenly feels like it's being stabbed by daggers and I drop to the floor in agony. I've never been hit by the Cruciatus Curse, but I've never been in so much pain; it's more intense than anything I've ever felt. My head feels like it's about to explode and I'm screaming more than I've ever screamed in my whole life. "Curcio!" He hisses again. I yell louder, just wishing he'd kill me. I open my eyes long enough to see every Death Eater staring, only none of them have faces – they're all shrouded by hoods. My heart feels like it's being ripped out when I see Pansy. She's the only one I can see clearly – the only face I can see.

"Help me!" I manage to yell. But she does nothing except stare at me in pain.

"Curcio!"

I'm about to explode. It feels like every one of my organs are spazing inside of me and I can't stop screaming. Finally, Voldemort stops and I'm breathing so heavy, that I may never catch my breath.

He kneels down beside me and grabs my left arm, rolls up my sleeve and points the tip of his wand at my skin. I'm too weak to do anything but suddenly it feels like there's a worm moving around in my arm. I grunt in pain and throw my head back. I'm so terrified, that I'm scraping the floor boards with my nails.

"Stop…" I rasp.

An evil smirk snakes onto Voldemort's lips as he backs off. "You're now a Death Eater, Draco."

I pant and hold up my arm so I can see what he did to me. What I see is that hideous dark mark staring right back at me – it makes me want to cut my own arm off. I'm shaking so intensely that my arm drops. The last face I see is Pansy and she yelling my name.

"Draco!" A voice calls, but it's faint and kind of echoed. "Draco!" I feel something grab my shoulder and I bolt up screaming, holding my left arm to my chest.

"Draco…" Pansy says calmly, grabbing my arm. I jump at her touch, but calm down a bit when she hugs me against her. "It was just a dream, you're okay…" She rubs my back but I'm still panting, and my eyes are so wide that I can't blink. From what I can make of it, it's night time. I must have been asleep for a while…

"He was gonna kill me." I say, terrified.

"No, no, no, shhh. Calm down, Draco, it's okay. You're fine, it was only a nightmare."

I clutch my arm tighter, "It felt so… real."

I'm shaking. I feel my body quivering against hers. "I'm here, it's okay. He's dead, Draco. Gone. He won't hurt you anymore." I'm still too shaken to talk and I feel her brining me down on the bed. Out of fear, I grip onto her shirt as if she'd leave me if I didn't.

"I'm right here, Draco." She kisses my head and hugs me tighter. "And I'll never leave you…"

AN: Wooo! Only two more chapters until we get to the Games and let death take it's course! I hope you guys like this so far, becasue, as for me, this is so much fun to write. I love Draco, and really wanted this to focus on him. He just seems so misunderstood in the series so I wanted to give him a little more background on his Death Eater life - and how much he hates it. This poor baby, I wanna hug him!
Well... I hope you guys keep reading becasue shit will go down soon, it will go DOWN.