Hello, everyone! Hopefully Chapter Six will go over much better than Chapter Five, and what happened last time, won't happen this time. Fingers crossed!

So. I have something to tell you all. I have a Tom Riddle Muse. He makes everything sad and dark. He's basically stolen the story and is writing it, now.

He was also in charge of a recent chapter that I wrote. Remember that trigger warning in the first chapter that said that there is no blood in the torture? Haha...yeah...well...that's kind of changed. It's very little. Just a pair of shallow cuts. I will update the warning in Chapter One. This one is just for people who have bee reading this before that was changed.

Copyright: I own nothing!

Chapter Six

Our entire train car was suddenly plunged into a misty darkness on the Express. "What was that!" I shouted, getting to my feet.

I navigated my way to the aisle as best I could in the dark. My nerves were already shot, so that was the last thing I needed.

I let out a quiet, threatening growl from the back of my throat as I slipped my hand into my pocket and gripped my wand, my knuckles turning whiter than they already were.

"Blaise?" I consulted, trying to gain a second opinion before I lost it.

"I don't know," the dark-skinned boy answered.

"It's probably just some First Year messing around," Pansy offered. "Come on, Draco. Just sit down. We'll be at Hogwarts soon."

I sighed most of my tension away, and I released my aching grip on my wand. I smoothed out the wrinkles in my black suit as I lowered myself back into my seat.

"Hogwarts," I scoffed, shaking my head slightly. "What a pathetic excuse for a school. I might just pitch myself off of the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue for another two years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy questioned worriedly across from me.

I wanted to badly to tell her and Blaise about what happened this summer. I didn't know if I could continue with these secrets and lies for another two years.

But knowing I couldn't tell anyone a word of it, I instead answered, "Just don't think I'll be wasting my time in Charms class next year."

Blaise snickered a little at my comment, and for some reason, it made my anger boil in my chest.

"Amused, Blaise?" I wondered, mockingly, getting him to close his mouth. "We'll see who's laughin' in the end."

My bag jumped in the rack above us, and I glanced up at it as the two across from me fell silent. The bag could have jumped due to the movement of the train, and I was about to dismiss it as such when the bag twitched again. It moved slightly towards me as if it was kicked.

"You two go on ahead," I told Blaise and Pansy as they rose from their seats. "I wanna check something."

The pair hesitated, but they eventually turned and left me alone.

Once the two were on the station's platform, I stood from my seat and grabbed my bag from the rack. I moved towards the door, but instead of leaving, I closed it quietly and lowered the blinds. I slipped my hand into my pocket and fingered the end of my wand. With a subtle flick of my wrist, the rest of the blinds in the train car fell closed.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself and hide my true emotion. I was angry at Potter for spying on me with that Invisibility Cloak of his, but I was terrified, too. What would happen if he found out what I had planned?

"Didn't your mummy ever tell you that it's rude to eavesdrop, Potter?" I spat, hitting him where I knew it would hurt. I flipped around, whipped out my wand and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" aiming my wand in the direction I thought Potter was.

The air quivered, and a cacophony of banging sounded as Potter fell from the rack. Something hit the table Blaise, Pansy and I were sitting around before crashing to the floor.

I marched over to where Potter seemed to fall and reached out, finding the hem of his Cloak. I ripped it off of the floor, revealing a paralyzed and dumbfounded Harry Potter lying on his back.

I scoffed at his frozen expression. "Oh, yeah. She was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin."

Memories of what the Death Eaters and Snape said about Potter and how I, myself, have heard him speak of my father flowed to the forefront of my mind, and it raised my foot above Potter's face and smashed his nose in with my shoe.

"That's for my father. Enjoy your ride back to London," I spewed and lifted the Cloak, throwing it back over him and left the car.

No one would find Potter. He would ride back to London without a problem. He would likely be the only one to catch me. His friend Granger might, but Potter and I have more classes together this year, so Granger wouldn't have the time to grow suspicious of me.

And Weasly, in all fairness, didn't have the competence to suspect anyone of anything.

I was safe with Potter back home.

"There you are!" a voice exclaimed.

I looked down and found Professor Flitwick standing guard at the gate with a roll of parchment.

"Name?"

I gave him a confused look and questioningly answered, "Malfoy, Draco?"

Flitwick crossed something off of the parchment with a quill before ordering me forward.

"Oh, Malfoy?" the professor called behind me.

I glanced back at Flitwick's short form and raised an eyebrow in question. "Yes?"

"You don't happen to know where Lovegood and Potter are, do you?"

I shook my head slightly and cooly answered, "No. No, I don't. Sorry, Professor."

Flitwick nodded in answer and waved me forward.

Resuming my walk, I found that Squib, Filch, inspecting my things with a couple of Aurors, and I ran forward. No one could have the chance to look too closely at what I brought to school. There were things I brought that were meant to aid me in killing Dumbledore. Poison, cursed objects, a cure for me to get my strength back if it did come down to casting a Killing Curse.

"What's this cane here?" Filch inquired as I reached him.

"It's not a cane," I corrected as the gate clanged shut. "It's a walking stick."

"And what would someone of your age need with a walking stick," Filch interrogated.

"My father gave it to me," I told him.

I didn't lie. My father did give me his old walking stick, but Filch couldn't look too closely. There was a vile of poison inside that he could not find.

"It could be some kind of weapon," Filch countered.

"It's alright Mister Filch. I can vouch for Mister Malfoy," Snape intervened, getting the Squib reluctantly to replace the walking stick where he had found it.

Snape stared fixedly past me, and I turned to follow his gaze and found Potter standing with that blonde Luny girl. She must have found him and got him off of the train before it left, though how she found him, I had no idea.

I smirked and couldn't help but taunt him at how ridiculous he looked with his bent and bleeding nose and his shirt covered in blood. "Nice face, Potter."

Before he could respond, Snape grabbed me by the forearm and dragged me into the castle.

"Don't let me know what you plan to do," the black-clothed professor instructed as we walked the hall. "The less I know about your plans, the better it will be for both of us. I'll show you the Room and how to get in tonight, but that's as far as my direct help can extend. I can cover for you. I can make sure no professors or staff cross your path outside of class for the most part, but I cannot be directly involved. The more people that know a secret, the higher the chance that someone will slip up."

"Yes, professor," I answered emotionlessly.

"Good," Snape responded quietly, pausing outside the open doors of the Great Hall. "Now, go in there, and act like you normally would. Keep up appearances."

I nodded silently as the professor stepped aside to allow me to enter the hall.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat announced as I moved towards my seat by my friends, the last of the First Years was finally Sorted.

I lowered myself onto the bench between Crabbe and Goyle, and Goyle exclaimed, "There you are, Malfoy!"

"Yeah," Crabbe agreed. "Where've you been?"

"I was held up at the search," I covered, the usual buffet of food appearing on the long table. "Apparently my father's old walking stick is a 'possible weapon'."

The group of Slytherins around me snickered quietly, and I smirked with them as I loaded my plate with food.

I hadn't seen this much food in two weeks. They had given me enough food to be considered three meals a day, but it was never enough to satisfy my hunger. My stomach grumbled and ached, calling to be fed.

"Geeze, Draco!" Pansy exclaimed across the table. "Slow down! You're starting to eat like Crabbe and Goyle."

"Hey!" the two next to me yelled through mouthfuls of food.

I chuckled quietly, picking up a spoonful of strawberry gelatin. "Didn't eat lunch," I explained.

Pansy nodded in agreement as she filled her own plate, seeming to remember that I didn't eat on the train.

I managed to eat all of the gelatin and a chicken leg before my stomach churned, protesting against the speed that I was eating. I sat back from the table and pushed my plate away, unable to eat another bite.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Crabbe wondered with a full mouth.

I pushed the full plate towards him in response. I rested my elbow on the table and placed my chin in my hand while Crabbe devoured my plate of food. I glanced around at the others as they ate and couldn't prevent a hint of jealousy from making my heart burn. How could they have that much of an appetite? A few minutes ago, all of the food of the banquet was one of the most welcome sights in the world, but now it was one of the most repulsive. My stomach refused to settle and looking at the food only made the nausea worse. It took all I had to keep the pain off of my face.

After a few more minutes, my stomach thankfully began to simmer down as my target stood and approached the owl-shaped podium.

"Now that we're all settled in and sorted," Dumbledore announced, "I would like to introduce the newest member of our staff: Professor Horace Slughorn. He has graciously agreed to take up his old post as Potions Master. Meanwhile, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken up by Professor Snape."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise at the news, but I otherwise didn't move. It was obvious that there would be a new professor on the staff, but I thought it would be a new DADA teacher. Snape didn't tell me that someone would replace him as Potions Master.

As Dumbledore continued speaking, my mind strayed to the last two weeks and what I still had to do.

Kill Dumbledore.

Don't let him aid Potter.

Forge the passage.

"Draco!" a voice whispered, pulling me from my thoughts. "What are you doing?" Pansy quietly exclaimed.

"What?" I wondered.

Pansy gestured to my hand in answer causing me to glance down and look for what she meant. My dark wand had somehow ended up in my other hand, and I had it aimed towards the platform where the professors and Headmaster sat in a white-knuckled grip.

Covering up my actions, I loosened my hold, twirled the wand between my fingers and said, "Bored."

Pansy gave me an odd look but thankfully returned her attention to what Dumbledore was saying.

"Their greatest weapon, is you," Dumbledore concluded, his words echoing in my mind.

I glanced back down at the wand in my hand. Was I just a weapon? I was sent here to kill someone, but I was chosen for it. I wasn't a weapon. I was chosen.

"Now off to bed. Pip, pip," the Headmaster ordered.

I put my wand away and glanced up at the platform, quickly making eye contact with Professor Snape.

Snape nodded and discretely left out of the nearby door. I stood and silently followed my rowdy friends out of the doors of the Great Hall, but instead of following them to the Slytherin Common Room in the dungeon, I quietly slipped off to the side and quickly moved around the corner to meet up with the professor.

Snape briskly walked down the corridor while I followed at his heels. He led me through various halls that I committed to memory. Eventually, we came to the blank wall that the Inquisitorial Squad and I spent so much time staring at when we were trying to catch Potter and his friends in the act.

"This is the Room of Requirement," Snape whispered in the darkened hall.

"So there actually is a room behind this wall?" I questioned.

"Yes, and I know you found it last year with the Inquisitorial Squad," the professor answered, "but I'm going to teach you how to open it to the room that you need."

I nodded as Snape told me that there is a room filled with broken and misplaced things and that this is where the other Vanishing Cabinet resided. It sounded like nothing more than a room full of trash. How could something as valuable as a Vanishing Cabinet end up in a room that sounded like a landfill?

As Snape concluded his description of the Room, he told me to close my eyes and let the image of the Room fill my mind.

I did as instructed, and after a moment or two, the wall in front of us emitted a crackling sound, and I opened my eyes again to find a pattern carving itself into the wall. The curling pattern spiraled upwards and outwards until a wooden doorway had formed.

I watched as Snape marched forward and opened one of the doors, waving me through.

Once I had moved past the professor, he let the door fall closed with an echoing bang. I looked back as the wall crackled once more, the door disappearing from the wall.

"This is the room you need," Professor Snape explained. "Every time you wish to work with the Cabinet, come to this wall and picture this room."

"Great," I responded, half-heartedly. "Where is the Cabinet?"

"Somewhere in this room," Snape answered. "I don't know its exact location, and I would rather not until the day we take the School. Remember what I said."

I nodded in responce as the professor briskly moved passed me and towards the wall where the door re-formed itself.

I followed Professor Snape through the twisting corridors of the School and down to the dungeon common room of Slytherin House.

"Get some rest," Snape suggested, his tone making it sound more like an order. "You have to get to work tomorrow."

I silently nodded and moved passed him and through the doors to the common room. Thankfully there weren't many people still awake, so I wouldn't have to answer too many questions about where I had been, but undoubtedly, Crabbe and/or Goyle will interrogate me.

"I can't make the lie too big," I muttered as I mounted the stairs to the boys' dorm room. "It has to be simple. Snape just needed me for something he told me not to talk about. That's close enough to the truth."

I quickly opened and closed the door to the boys' dorm room and was immediately overwhelmed with questions.

"Where've you been, Malfoy?"

"What were you doing?"

"We've been looking all over for you!"

Their bombardment of phrases reminded me too much of what happened a week ago, and I stumbled back a few steps back into the door.

"You alright, Malfoy?" Goyle wondered as I picked myself back up. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Or something equally as frightening that we don't see every day," Crabbe voiced.

"Fine," I spat. "Just tired. And as for where I was, I was with Snape. He needed me for something."

"What would he need you for this late at night?" Crabbe interjected.

"Wish I could tell you, but he told me not to breathe a word of it," I faked, smoothing out the wrinkles in my dark suit.

"Well, you better get some sleep, Malfoy," Blaise offered. "You look like you could use it, and it'll l only get worse as the school year goes on," he laughed.

I quietly snickered along as I approached my bed which already had my things resting on it.

I opened my trunk and silently removed my pajamas from it. I slipped my nightclothes on and fell into bed, my lingering exhaustion from the two weeks earlier catching up with me again.

"Blaise is right," Crabbe whispered as he settled into his bed next to me. "You definitely need to sleep."

"Shut up, Crabbe," I mocked, rolling over onto my other side.

"Kill him!" they echoed. "Kill him, now!"

"He'll kill you."

"Wake up!"

A splash of ice cold water.

"He cannot be allowed to help Potter."

"You were chosen for this."

The moon rose and set. The stars came and went.

Exhaustion made my very bones ache.

"Wake up, Malfoy!"

"He'll kill you if you can't do this.

"Eat your dinner! It's the last you'll get till tomorrow."

"You'll die if you don't."

"Cast it!"

"Avada Kedavra!" I shouted over and over again. "Crucio! Imperio!"

I collapsed to the ground so many times.

I was so tired.

"Wake up!"

I jolted straight up in my bed, tossing my covers off. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, breathing deeply to try and calm my racing heart. My whole body was drenched in a cold sweat, making my night clothes stick to my clammy skin.

I never had enough time to dream during the two weeks before school, and I didn't expect it to be like that.

I glanced at the window and found the sky greying with morning. I should have gone back to bed, but I gathered my clothes and toiletries and retreated to the bathroom.

I shut and locked the door and splashed cold water onto my face to wake myself up, but all I did was throw myself back into those same memories in my dream.

"Wake up, Malfoy!"

I groaned and dried my face off with a nearby hand towel, ignoring my swirling memories.

After I brushed my teeth and rinsed, I was about to dump the remainder of the water into the sink when I noticed ripples in the water. My hand was shaking.

I dropped the cup and held my right hand with my left to try to get it to stop. I squeezed and shook my hand, but the tremor never ceased.

Eventually, I gave up on it and tossed the disposable cup into the trash bin by the sink and dressed into my day clothes, pleading that the shaking in my hand would stop.

I left the lavatory with my things and placed them back by my bed. The other boys in the dormitory were just beginning to stir as I grabbed my wand and snuck passed them and out of the room.

I walked to the common room and sat on one of the chairs near the smoldering wood in the fireplace. I twirled my wand through the fingers of my left hand as I inspected my shaking one. The tremor was still there. What was causing it?

It was never there before. I understood that I was not quite recovered from the two weeks before school, but that wouldn't cause just my hand to shake? Wouldn't it make my whole body tremble, not just my hand?

The content before this point has been relatively light compared to what's to come. It makes my personal Tom Riddle happy, so it makes all of us sad. I have actually cried writing some of these chapters.

On that hopeful note, till next week!