Act II: Ego Loss
Undisclosed Location August 2007 – 27 Years Old
Waking up to the sharp pain of getting kneed in the balls isn't the most pleasant way to start the day. But – this is precisely how Draco finds himself, unfortunately, starting his day.
"Mother fucker," he rasps, hand flying to his groin. Somehow Rose not only managed to sneak into his and Hermione's bed during the night, but she also managed to fall asleep horizontally, giving her tiny demon feet perfect access to Draco's crotch. And, of course, she's still sleeping soundly, not even realising she very well could have ended the Malfoy line.
Not that Draco plans to have any more children. It isn't something he nor Hermione even wanted in the first place but – whoops. There's no way he's going to bring another child into such a shite world. And yet, the Dark Lord seems to think it a brilliant idea to force all the young and virile Death Eaters into marriages to "produce the next generation of wizards and witches loyal to the cause."
Draco gets out of bed, leaving his sleeping daughter, and hobbles to the tiny kitchen, where he finds Hermione reading a book (what's new) and drinking terrible coffee.
"Hermione, you need to take a look at my left testicle. I think I might lose it. The starfish struck again," he says as he approaches her. "Preferably — on your knees because - you know - the angle," he smirks.
Hermione lifts her head and slowly sips her coffee. "Have Harry take a look," she says flatly.
"Funny," he snorts while rolling his eyes. "Come on, Granger – it's my wedding day," he says with a shit-eating grin.
"Oh, yes. I nearly forgot," she laughs. "Theo tested Snape's Polyjuice while you were on your mission yesterday. Says that you should see a chiropractor because your left leg is obnoxiously longer than the right."
Draco chuckles, taking a seat at the table, but then he frowns. "Stori isn't looking too good these days," he says grimly. "She says she's just tired but –"
"I know, poor thing. And with all this forced marriage mess. I'm just glad that the Dark Lord is unknowingly going to be binding two Order members who are desperately in love."
"And that he requires everyone to wear their full Death Eater regalia – as we watch," he says, grimacing as he grabs Theo's mask. "His fucking mask is more comfortable than mine," Draco whinges, tossing it on the table.
"Rose seems to like your mask just fine. I even found her wearing it while taking a nap," chuckles Hermione as she sets her book down and then winces, grabbing her ribs.
"Still pretty sore?" he asks softly.
"Three days in the Manor dungeon was – not ideal. Although it was better than my first time being a captive there - I don't plan on returning anytime soon."
Draco swipes a hand over his face. "I'm just glad I was able to finally get you out. Although Polyjuicing myself as Amycus Carrow to do so was next-level torture. Did you know his balls are so fucking saggy that they kept sticking to my fucking thigh? Well, technically not my thigh. He should thank me for killing him."
"Draco – please stop."
"Sorry," he laughs. "But I need to get going," he says, standing and leaning down to kiss Hermione. "I'm going to say goodbye to Rose because I'll know she'll be miffed if I don't let her know I'm going to work."
Hermione nods, and Draco returns to the bedroom, quietly laying on the bed to look over his three-year-old daughter's face. "I know you're awake," he says softly. Rose smiles, dimpling her features and then opens her big brown eyes as Draco traces his finger over her tiny brow and down her chubby cheek. He then grins as he lightly pulls on her nose.
"Mine," he says, eliciting her infamous giggle. He then grabs his own nose – which is fairly easy given how fucking pointy it is – and pretends to hold both noses in his hands. "Now, I'm quite fond of your little nose, Rose – that's a rhyme, by the way." She laughs. "So, you take mine –" he pretends to put his nose on her face. "And I'll take yours –" he places 'her nose' on his face. "And then next time you see me, we'll switch back. Deal?"
"Dewill," Rose says as she examines her new nose, making her eyes cross. Draco leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Now be good for mummy and – well, be good for everyone – except Charlie," he says with a grin and then brings her into a tight hug. "I'll be back soon, my love."
…
Draco sits among the other Death Eaters wearing Theo Nott's mask and robes as he watches "himself" and Astoria stand before the Dark Lord. The whole event is absurd, not to mention this is the fifth binding ceremony within the past week he's had to witness. Thankfully, Draco has become somewhat desensitised to what Voldy Shmoldy is requiring of them, not having realised before the depth of the snake man's perversion.
His best mates didn't hesitate to help, knowing that if Draco had to go through with the ceremony – not that he ever would – the bond wouldn't take, given he's already been bonded with Hermione for the past year.
After the binding is complete, Draco watches as "Draco" takes Astoria's hand and guides her to the bed in the middle of the fucking room.
Apparently, the Dark Lord thinks this is the Dark Ages – which maybe it is – and requires all the newlyweds to fucking consummate the damn bond in front of everyone. Astoria kept saying how disturbing it was but ultimately kept a positive attitude, even though she would be sleeping with her best mate's husband. Not technically - but still - weird.
Theo simply said if fucking the love of his life with a decidedly smaller cock – his words – in front of a bunch of sick freaks is his current directive from the Lizard Wizard, then – well – he's just glad he doesn't have to kill anyone today.
Even so, Draco closes his eyes, willing himself to take a nap and not think about the fact two of his closest friends are fucking a few yards away from him. After a few minutes of shuffling and then a soft grunt – that comes from "his" own fucking throat – Draco thinks this might be the most awkward intercourse he's ever "participated" in. Although, the night of the Yule Ball is a close second.
…
Hogwarts December 1994 – 14 Years Old
"Pansy – fuck – I – said – no."
"Then – why – are – you — still – snogging me?"
Draco finally backs away, pulling his hand off Pansy's breast as she removes her hand from his erection, both still fully clothed.
"Because I like snogging. But I told you – I'm not ready yet. That and I'd rather not fuck Blaise's whore," he says with a smirk.
"Draco, just because I slept with Blaise one time doesn't make me a whore," she laughs. "The fact that I slept with five different Ravenclaw wizards and one Hufflepuff witch makes me a whore," she adds as she winks at him, fixing her mussed hair. "Well, seeing as we're done here, I'm going to go find Blaise."
Shaking his head with a laugh, Draco waves off his best friend as she saunters away. Then, taking a breath to calm down, Draco leans against the stone wall as his arousal fades before he sneaks away to his favourite spot to find himself.
Not – not like introspection or anything. He's just going to the Astronomy Tower and wants to see if he can find the Draco constellation to bask in the glory that there are stars named after him. Not the other way around.
But as he finally approaches, he finds that the fucking Swot has stolen his spot, and she's — crying? Draco's first instinct is to run back down the stairs, not wanting anything to do with a crying witch, least of all the Mudblood. But then he has a thought, seeing she's already crying – it would be too easy to completely annihilate her self-esteem. If only the beaver teeth he gave her a few weeks ago had been permanent. Draco knows that if he were to lose all his memories, the one mental image that would remain is the sight of Granger whinging because her teeth were slightly larger than they were before.
It's one of his happiest memories.
"Granger," calls Draco as he moves closer to her. Granger startles as she sits on the open window ledge, trying to quickly wipe her tears away. "Weasley not able to make you cum?"
"You're foul, Malfoy," she snaps and starts crying even harder.
Fuck. He's never seen her this upset.
Draco narrows his eyes as he looks her over, wondering why she's so upset. She'd gone to the ball with Krum and – shite. An uncomfortable feeling begins to roll in his gut, thinking that the older wizard might have done something.
"Are you hurt?" he hesitantly asks, now scrunching his nose – supremely uncomfortable with the scenario.
Granger wipes more of her tears as she looks away while Draco sits down on the ledge beside her, still crying, causing his concern to grow second by second. He thinks Granger is strangely pretty when she cries. Pansy never cries, and Daphne looks like a fucking troll when she does, but Granger –
Draco straightens his posture and looks out the window as well.
"Ron accused me of fraternising with the enemy."
Draco closes his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Granger – why the fuck do you even give a shite what that Weasel says?"
For whatever reason, Granger huffs a small laugh, but then she sheepishly looks down. "I – I wanted him to ask me to the ball – not Krum."
"You are so fucking – strange," he says in disgust. "You'd rather that ginger berk step on your tiny feet all night than go to the ball with not only the greatest Seeker but one of the tournament champions? Does Weasely have a massive cock or something?"
Again, she laughs — which is unexpected.
"I wouldn't know about that," she says with an eye roll.
"Well, then I'll have to assume you found out Krum has a tiny prick then," he chuckles.
"No — he's – adequate," she says with a secretive smile and fucking blushes.
Salazar.
"Uh — fuck, Granger," he laughs.
"Oh, please. It's not like that. I only know because he changed out of his Quidditch robes with me in the same room. I – looked."
Draco swipes a hand over his face, feeling his cheeks heat up, thinking of Granger wanting to look at a wizard's prick. The idea of her being aroused is so – odd – he can feel himself getting hard.
"Right, yeah – I mean, who wouldn't look," he jokes, wanting to divert the conversation. But then Granger's fucking big brown eyes glance at his fucking crotch, and he knows she can see he's got a full fledge hard-on. She looks up, and they lock eyes for .003 seconds before Draco looks away with a subtle cough and a much less subtle adjustment to how he's sitting.
Granger quickly looks out the window, and Draco knows he needs to do something so she doesn't get the wrong idea. Which – he doesn't even know what the right idea is, given his brain is rapidly shutting down. All he can think is that he wouldn't mind if Granger changed out of her ugly dress with him in the room so he could – look.
"Your hair looks worse than it usually does," he says, thinking if he starts hurling insults, he'll be transported away from this alternate fucking reality he finds himself in.
"Are you saying that because you prefer how it usually looks, Malfoy?"
"Are you fucking serious? Of course not," he scoffs.
Granger rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
"And you're wearing too much makeup."
"And you wear too much hair product," she quips back.
"Well, you spend so much time in the library that I think you have some kind of sexual fetish with books."
"Well, you spend so much time tormenting Harry, I think you have a sexual fetish with — well – Harry."
"That's low, Granger," he laughs, causing her to smile. "You're such a know-it-all that it's no wonder your only friends are the two most dunderheaded gits in all of Hogwarts because their brains are so empty it formed a hoover that sucks up all your swottiness as you do all their work for them because they're not really that great of friends to you in the first place," he says, before having to catch his breath and then giving a grin. But his grin falters when Granger starts crying. "Oh–" he says, not having expected that reaction. Draco unwittingly reaches his hand out and wipes a tear away and, without thinking, scoots closer to her.
"Well, you're a pure-blood who knows what a hoover is," she chokes out, brow furrowing when his hand remains, still caressing her tear-stained cheek. Draco leans in closer, ignoring her heartless cheap shot.
"Well, you are the most annoying witch I've ever met. You ruin everything, Granger," he whispers close to her ear. Draco tilts his head and places his lips to hers. Granger freezes for a moment, but then her lips begin to move against his. Within seconds, his hands find her breasts as he kisses down her neck.
"I hate you," he says as he roams his hands all over her body. "Fucking, shite —" Draco groans as the wicked witch begins to undo his shirt while he pushes up her dress – both moving frantically and panting. Draco nearly cums in his trousers when Granger lets out a soft moan as he pulls the top of her dress down, exposing her nipples. "F-fuck," he rasps and then roughly pushes up her dress as she begins to undo his belt. Draco's brain scrambles when her hand dips into his pants. The furthest he's ever gone is rubbing Pansy off while she returned the favour, both still fully clothed.
Draco helps Granger push his trousers and pants down as his swollen and leaking cock is finally freed. He bucks against her knicker-clad cunt as they both groan. "I–I've never done this before," she finally gasps, sounding anxious.
He considers telling her he's fucked other witches and she's just another hole – but Draco knows that his orgasm isn't far off, and the Swot will figure him out anyway.
"I – haven't either," he finally confesses as they look into each other's eyes. Granger pulls him into another kiss while Draco wraps his arms around the witch's waist to pick her up and place her on the fucking ground before he practically rips her ugly cotton knickers off. He pauses for a moment when he finally gets to look. Then, Draco moves on top and rubs his prick against her quim, causing Granger to gasp while he simply grunts, slapping his hand over her mouth.
"You have to be quiet," Draco hisses before he slides his cock along her entrance again, squinting his eyes shut, feeling how wet she is. Of course, in an ideal world, he'd like to shove his fingers in her – then his face – but unfortunately, he's on borrowed virgin time.
Draco growls in frustration, knowing he's already so fucking close, and unfortunately, Granger takes it as a sound of pleasure. She unexpectedly wraps her hand around his cock and pulls him into position before he even realises what's happening. Barely pushing his hips forward, Draco feels his muscles clench as his balls draw up.
"Oh, fuck," he choaks. "Wait. Granger, wait! I —" he says with her hand still wrapped around his cock. "F-fuck, oh fuck," he cries as he cums while his tip is barely inside her.
They both freeze, still panting.
"Was that – did you —"
"Fucking shut it," he snaps and immediately backs away to stand, hands shaking as he tries to pull his pants up, not even bothering with the cum that managed to get on his trousers. He fumbles with his clothes, mortified as his eyes prick with tears. "I TOLD YOU TO WAIT!" He barks and quickly turns away to wipe a tear making its way down his cheek.
"Malfoy, it's not a big deal – it's our first time –"
Draco whirls back around. "And last, you fucking bitch," he hisses, seeing she's looking at him with fucking pity. "Granger — I never want to ever have you even remotely near me. Your fucking cunt stinks. The only reason I kissed you is that you're such a pathetic lonely – ugly – Mudblood, and I thought it would be – funny," he growls and then abruptly storms away, never looking back.
…
Malfoy Manor 5 August 2007 – Evening of the Binding Ceremony
"Expecto Patronum."
Draco watches as the German Shepherd appears, so he can deliver a very important message.
"Hey, Curly Top – as I always say when I'm forced to stay at the manor – I love and miss you. But more importantly — I found Snake Snake and will bring him with me when I come home tomorrow. Tell Rose her father loves her."
The German Shepherd disappears, leaving Draco alone in his childhood room, lying on the bed he used to piss in when he was little because Astoria kicked him out of the Master Suite. Well, truthfully, he gave it to her, seeing as she's his "wife" – it was the least he could do.
Suddenly, his room lights up with another Patronus.
It's from Astoria.
Draco watches the Crow floating in front of him.
"Theo was supposed to return from his mission by now, Draco. I think something is wrong." The crow vanishes, and Draco springs into action, grabbing his Death Eater robes and much more uncomfortable mask. He knows Theo is on a reconnaissance mission in Scotland, and the feeling of dread begins to roll in his gut.
If ever he wished to be back on those Godric awful potions to help him Occlude, it would be now. There's at least a year's supply still in the suite, but he knows how dangerous the potion is. After abusing the substance for too long, he started becoming confused, sometimes even locked in Occlusion for hours, only for Snape to have to pull him out. But something isn't right, and his instincts have him apparating to the Master Suite.
"Draco!" says Astoria. He can see she's been pacing around the bedroom, and her eyes are puffy with tears. "Please tell me he's alright – please."
"I haven't heard anything," he says as he shuffles through his wardrobe and takes out some vials.
"Draco–"
"Stori – if – if something happened to Theo – protocol is to interrogate the Team Lead."
"Team Lead? What are you saying?" says the witch as her lip begins to tremble.
"I – I sent him without me."
"Why?" she snaps, with confusion and hurt written all over her face.
Draco runs his hand through his hair. "Because it was a simple reconnaissance mission. He's a damn good wizard, Stori. There was intelligence about the Order's safe house in Inverness, so he – we – were simply supposed to scope the area. Besides, it's currently abandoned since the last group of Muggles were already safely moved. He doesn't need me."
"Doesn't need you? Doesn't need you?" she scoffs. "Draco, he's missing! You convinced Theo to get the Dark Mark to help you spy!" she cries as the tears begin to fall. But then she takes a cleansing breath. "Draco – if he's," she lets out a sob. "If he's not coming back, promise me – promise me you'll kill me. I don't want to be here longer than need be."
"What?"
"I – I'm dying, Draco. It's a blood curse. I – we – Theo knows. I've got maybe two or three years. We've known we are on borrowed time but promise me. If– if something has happened to him. If he's – dead," she sniffs and wipes her eyes. "Promise me you'll send an Avada straight to my heart so I can see Theo again."
And as if on cue – Draco's left arm burns.
"Fucking fuck," he curses. "Fuck, I have to go, Stori. I – I promise."
…
Draco apparates just outside the meeting room. The door is open, and he glances in to prepare himself. What he sees makes his stomach nearly fall out of his bottom. With a trembling hand, Draco pulls out two of the three vials he'd pocketed and takes them in quick succession, knowing that even though the withdrawal is going to be a bitch, he's going to need help occluding.
Calmly entering the room, he can see the long table is gone, and standing at the front of the room is Voldemort, with McNair standing on his left. Another Death Eater is in front of them, on his knees, facing Draco.
It's Theo.
"Draco —" comes Voldemort's hiss. "Please step forward."
Draco immediately begins to Occlude, starting with everything regarding Rose and Hermione — if ever he was grateful for his years of hatred towards the Swot, it's now. Draco pushes all the painful memories forward to throw Voldy off the scent. With every step he takes, the pain in his head increases, and he knows his shields would already have failed if not for the potion.
Knowing he doesn't have any more time to sift through things, Draco begins to shut down anything pertaining to the Order as well as anything remotely happy, while his memories unwittingly rearrange to fill in the gaps.
"McNair – if you please," says the Dark Lord as McNair steps forward. "Report to Draco your — discovery."
"Earlier this evening, I was tasked with making initial contact with the Giants in the North, in Scotland. I was in Inverness and stumbled upon Death Eater Nott while on my broom. My initial assumption was that he was breaking into an Order safe house. I thought I'd provide backup, given he was Marked only a few months ago and Death Eater Draco Malfoy, his Team Leader, was nowhere to be found."
Draco stares blankly through his mask, the pain in his head intensifying as Voldemort begins to enter his mind while McNair continues.
"When I approached, I discovered that Nott was placing new wards on the hovel. I immediately cast a body bind and broke through the incomplete wards to find five Muggle children. I Avada'd them on sight and brought Nott back with me, my Lord. I believe this indiscretion indicates Nott's disloyalty and a gross misstep on Death Eater Draco Malfoy's part – bringing his own loyalty into question."
At this point, Voldemort backs out of Draco's mind to speak.
"And what have you to say about this, Draco?" questions the fucking green cunt.
"Have you considered that this was done on purpose? Did you even check if Death Eater Nott had been under the Imperius Curse? This could have been a setup. Why would the Order hide five Muggle children in some hovel in Scotland?"
"I considered the possibility, so I did check, and Nott was not under the Imperius Curse nor any other mind-altering spell – at least from what I could tell. Which is why I've brought him here to be questioned."
"Take off your mask, Nott," says Voldemort in a low hiss.
Draco watches as Theo removes his mask, unable to look him in the eyes.
"Draco, your wand," says Voldemort.
Draco pulls out his wand, barely able to hide the tremor in his hand from the pain in his head as well as the pain of what he knows is coming next.
"Please take care of your inferior."
Lifting his wand, only Draco can see Theo's face as he mouths three words.
It's alright, Draco.
And with that, Draco flicks his wrist.
"Avada Kedavra."
The curse hits Theo directly in the chest, instantly killing him, as Draco lowers his wand. The Dark Lord tells McNair to dispose of the body, leaving Draco alone with Voldecunt.
"Are you hiding something from me, Draco?"
"No, my Lord. I serve you alone. I entrusted Death Eater Nott with a simple mission thinking he was ready."
"As a Team Lead, you know that I need to confirm your words. Kneel."
Draco kneels as he intensifies his Occlusion. Lord Voldemort uses the Cruciatus Curse while simultaneously performing Legilimency, causing Draco to let out an anguished cry.
"I need to know I can trust you," hisses Voldemort as he continues to move through Draco's mind. The pain is so unbearable from the Unforgivable, the mental invasion, and heavy Occlusion that for a second, his brain scrambles, and he feels – nothing. But as quickly as the odd sensation comes, the pain returns instantly, and Draco wishes Voldemort would hurry up already because he's pretty sure he shit himself. Finally, after another few minutes of agony, the Dark Lord lowers his wand and withdraws from Draco's mind.
"I am pleased you are loyal to me and The Cause."
Voldemort disappears with the familiar cracking noise, leaving Draco sprawled out on the ground. Feeling his head pounding, Draco knows he Occluded too heavily at the binding ceremony and the horribly awkward consummation. Death Eater Feig, or technically Healer Feig, says the headaches were a sign that if he continues to Occlude, he could lose his mind – or worse.
And so, since he has nothing to hide in the first place, he decides his days of Occlusion have finally come to an end. Draco then pulls out a vial of pain potion that he always keeps on his person to help with the headaches and takes a drink.
…
…
…
The Beginning
Malfoy Manor 1983 – 3 Years Old
"Snake."
"Yes, Draco. Mother got you a stuffed snake toy. But I asked you what you wanted to name him, my darling."
"Snake."
"Yes, as I said the three other times – I know it's a snake. I picked him out just for you. I would like to know what you want to call him. His name. Like how your name is Draco."
"..."
"Draco darling, what's his name?"
"Snake."
…
Parkinson Estate 1984 – 4 Years Old
"That looks like a cow."
"What's a cow?" asks Draco, looking at his friend. Pansy's mother is letting them draw but said they had to do it outside.
"I don't know. But father sometimes calls mother a cow, and your picture looks like her."
"Oh," says Draco as he looks at his ink-smudged parchment. He then scratches an itch on his face getting the black liquid all over his cheek. "I have to wee," he states. And seeing as he's outside, Draco stands, turns to the left and pulls his trousers down to his ankles to pee right in the grass.
"How do you do that? What is that?" says Pansy, watching him pee.
"What's what?" asks Draco, holding himself while Pansy points at him. "Oh, this? It's my willy. Don't you have one?"
Pansy shakes her head 'no' with wide eyes. "Mine doesn't look like that," she says as she pulls down her knickers and lifts her dress.
"Why do you have a tiny bum on your front? Where's your willy?" asks Draco curiously.
3 Minutes Later
"NO! Oh, Merlin. Children! Whatever are you doing?" yells Pansy's governess. The witch runs towards Pansy and Draco, who are standing naked as the day they were born, simply staring at each other.
Draco shrugs as Pansy speaks.
"We wanted to see what else was different."
…
Malfoy Family Garden 1985 – 5 Years Old
"You're fine."
"Oh, Lucius, he's only five. Come here, my darling." Draco continues to cry as he runs to his mother. "Now let me see – oh my. What happened?"
"I j-just wanted to s-say hello," he wails as his mother looks over his hand.
"Yes, but I don't think the Peacocks like being touched, darling."
"It bit me!" he whinges as she kisses his hand. She then inspects it further. "Where does it hurt?" she asks, with a furrowed brow.
"Right here."
"That's a freckle, Draco — are you sure you aren't just trying to get some biscuits?"
Draco sighs, knowing she's figured him out, causing his mother to laugh. "You are a silly little boy," she says as she brings him in for a hug.
"Can I still have a biscuit?"
…
Diagon Alley 1986 – 6 Years Old
"Pleeeease, father. Please let me get a broom," begs Draco.
"Until you show signs of magic, there is no need for a broom."
"Yes, father."
…
Malfoy Manor 1987 – 7 Years Old
Draco lies in his bed while his mother cradles him as he cries.
"It's alright, my darling."
"I k-killed her," he sobs. "I k-killed h-her!" Draco buries his face in his mother's chest while she strokes his hair.
"It wasn't your fault, Draco. You had your first bout of accidental magic and didn't mean for the portrait to fall."
Not feeling consoled, knowing that he is a murderer for killing his House Elf, Draco continues to cry until he finally falls asleep in his mother's arms.
…
Malfoy Manor 1988 – 8 years old
"Look, father!"
"Yes, excellent, Draco. Now, here – let me help you."
"I want to be a Seeker," says Draco as his father helps him off his new broom.
"Very good, my son. It will be a shame if you don't make the House Team when you go to Hogwarts."
…
Spinner's End 1989 – 9 Years Old
"What's that one?"
"Dittany."
"What's that one there?"
"Devil's Snare."
"What's tha–"
"Draco! Go fly your broom or something before I chop your fingers off."
"Yes, Sevy."
…
Malfoy Manor 1990 – 10 Years Old
"And Draco," begins his father as he eyes his son, kneeling on the ground. "Give him a proper name. If you name your dog, dog – I will Avada him."
"Yes, father," says Draco, not scared by his father's threat because he's currently getting kisses from a Greyhound puppy all over his face as he scratches his new pet's head.
"Draco, darling," says his mother with a warm smile. "What are you going to name him?"
"Hound."
…
Hogwarts Express 1991 – 11 Years Old
Draco sits in the train compartment, stuffing his face with sweets while Crabbe and Goyle fight over their Chocolate Frog Cards. Suddenly, the compartment door opens, and a small girl with bushy hair and freckles on her nose bursts in.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" she asks, sounding like she thinks she's better than them.
Crabbe and Goyle ask her questions about the missing creature while all Draco can do is stare at the odd girl, thinking –
'She's the prettiest witch I've ever seen.'
…
Malfoy Manor 1992 – 12 Years Old
Draco patiently waits in the foyer, excited to return to Hogwarts to finally try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. He's been practising for hours each day all summer – nervous that he won't be good enough.
"Draco," comes his father's voice.
"Yes, father?"
"What is this? I found it in one of your books you left in the dining room."
Draco blanches, seeing that his father has found his wish list.
"It's – it's my list of things I wish to happen someday," he says with his head down as his father holds the parchment in hand.
"There are only two things on this list."
"It's not finished."
To his horror, his father gives him a pointed look as he reads the list.
"Make the Slytherin House team as Seeker. And – marry Hermione Granger – who is this Granger girl? I'm not familiar with the surname."
"She's a Muggle-born girl in my –"
Wack!
Draco lets out a quick sob as his father sharply hits his hand with his cane.
"I would sooner burn you off the family tree than have you marry a filthy Mudblood, Draco. The girl is a disgrace and shouldn't even be allowed at Hogwarts."
"Y-yes, father."
Lucius' face softens, seeing Draco crying, and he pulls him into a hug.
"I'm only trying to protect you, Draco. Don't you remember your lessons? You should know she and her kind stole their magic. Muggles and Muggle-borns are greedy animals who would sooner see you burned at the stake because of your pure-blood heritage. You may think you admire her now, but I can assure you – she will be nothing but a disappointment only to betray you to get ahead."
Draco wipes the tears from his face feeling humiliated. His governess' lessons were so boring that he never paid attention. He didn't realise that Granger stole her magic, and the betrayal leaves him feeling angry and confused.
"Draco, if we let the Mudbloods think they belong – they'll only continue to ruin everything we hold dear."
"Yes, father."
…
Hogwarts 1993 – 13 Years Old
Dear Journal,
Everything is terrible. I hate lessons with the Gryffindors because Granger is such a know-it-all, and now I have to actually try so that a filthy Mudblood isn't at the top of the class.
I can't believe Dumblecunt is letting the oaf teach Care of Magical Creatures now. I've got the lesson in a few minutes.
I'm so fucking bored all the time. I'm going to try and have some fun during the lesson.
~ DM
…
Slytherin Dorm 1994 – 14 Years Old
Draco buries his face in his pillow as he continues to cry, utterly mortified from what happened a few minutes prior. He feels like an idiot. Why did he kiss Granger? And, of course, she purposely tried to humiliate him. He thought maybe she wasn't what he thought, seeing her so upset. But he should have known he was so very wrong. She really is a filthy Mudblood.
"You ruin everything, Granger," he sobs. "I hate you."
…
Hospital Wing 1995 – 15 Years Old
Draco sneaks through the doors as he quietly locates Granger's bed. The fucking cunts and their stupid Dumblecunt's Army went to the Ministry, and now his father is in Azkaban. Of course, stupid Granger is hurt, so Draco takes the opportunity to see her in pain.
Standing near the bed, his lip trembles as he looks her over. "You always fucking ruin everything," he hisses, wiping a tear. "I hope you have a horrible scar that will never go away. I hope it gives you pain for the rest of your fucking pathetic life."
Granger simply sighs and wriggles her button nose, and Draco automatically brushes a few curly locks of hair off her forehead before wrenching his hand back. "My father is in Azkaban because of you," he says coldly as he backs up to leave. Draco turns away and takes two steps before quietly speaking over his shoulder.
"I'm glad you're not dead." And then he runs out of the room.
…
Malfoy Manor 1996 – 16 Years Old
Draco stands in the middle of his ancestral home's dining room after the Dark Lord vanishes the long ornate table for the ceremony. Thirty minutes later, he looks at his left arm, now bearing the Dark Mark. It was a painful process but worth the honour of taking on the mantle his father had dropped when he failed to retrieve the prophecy.
"Draco," comes Lord Voldemort's voice, as all the other Death Eaters watch – his mother is also among the audience. "I will bestow upon you your first task as a Death Eater."
"Yes, my Lord," says Draco, lightly bowing his head.
The doors to the dining room open as another Death Eater – McNair, he thinks – pulls Hound in by a lead. Draco's heart begins to pound, seeing his one and only friend trotting in happily unaware. Hound sits right in front of Draco.
"Draco, your wand," says Voldemort.
Draco pulls out his wand, barely able to hide the tremor in his hand from the pure terror and pain of what he knows is coming next. He immediately puts up the Occlumency shields he's been using practically nonstop since he turned fifteen.
"Please show us all that you can now proficiently cast the Killing Curse," says his new master.
Draco can barely look into Hound's eyes as he lifts his wand, knowing if he doesn't do it, he'll only suffer more.
"Now, Draco."
And with that, Draco flicks his wrist.
"Avada Kedavra."
…
Malfoy Manor Drawing Room 1997 – 17 Years Old
Draco kneels before the disfigured wizard as his father asks him to confirm if the poor sod is Harry Potter. Practically a zombie and simply not caring anymore, he is about to say yes – but as he looks into Potter's eyes, silently pleading for help, Draco falters.
"I can't — I can't be sure."
…
2 May 1998 Hogwarts – A Month Shy of 18 Years Old
Draco watches his father get struck by another Death Eater's errant Killing Curse to save Draco's life. He stands in shock for only a moment before he Occludes and continues to duel. He's currently facing off against a slightly younger wizard he sort of recognises. Creevy or something.
Not wanting to drag things out anymore, Draco simply casts an Avada as the wizard drops dead. Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort and Potter are still duelling, and Draco considers simply sending an Avada at them both to just be fucking done with all this shite.
But then he sees something shift as Potter seems to finally get a fucking clue as the Gryffindor sends a Killing Curse at the same time Voldermort does. They both get hit simultaneously, Voldemort in the chest and Potter right in the fucking face, as they drop to the ground.
The battle ceases momentarily until Voldemort pulls himself to his feet and dissaparates.
Fucking coward.
He can see Granger and Weasley help Potter up as they stumble away in their own retreat. Seeing their distraction, Draco judges the distance and then uses his mother's wand to utter the Killing Curse. But before he can, he hears another voice.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Draco drops face forward, in the full body bind, as whoever hit him makes their way over and kneels beside him.
"Now – I could have easily sent an Avada, but I'd be a fool to think I'd ever muster enough hatred to kill a child, even one as cruel and misguided as you."
And with that, the unknown witch is gone.
…
1999 – 19 Years Old
Raid, torture, kill.
Raid, torture, kill.
Raid, torture…kill.
…
Malfoy Manor 2000 – Twenty Years Old
Draco stumbles onto the dramatic scene his mother has left behind because the witch was done. After years of grief and suffering, Narcissa Malfoy finally took matters into her own hands. And so, Draco takes a breath as he sits in the bath hours later, contemplating what to do next.
With his mother gone, what is the point of — anything?
His first thought is to simply follow suit. But the thought of leaving Voldemort and the rest of the Death Eaters who have ruined his entire life behind to simply – get away with everything – has him coming up with an alternate plan. An incredibly stupid and probably dangerous plan.
Using magic to dry himself, Draco puts on his Death Eater robes and decides, 'fuck it.'
Then, taking a note from his mother's book, Draco finally decides to take matters into his own hands – although in a far less dramatic fashion.
Looking around the room, Draco readies himself, already having a fairly good idea of where to go.
"Fucking shite – I'm defecting."
And with that, he apparatus.
...
Ego loss: A complete loss of subjective identity.