Sorry for the late update! It has been quite a hectic week for me. Don't forget to review and tell me your thoughts of course! :)

Confession Number 5: Saying an Unforgivable Is Hard... Even for a Death Eater.

"Imperio!" Draco Malfoy pointed his wand towards the victim, his voice not wavering like before when he had first used the unforgivable. His steel grey eyes stared at the large woman, and his other hand clenched. He hated it–hated how his thoughts were filled with guilt after, despised how he wanted to jump off a cliff after doing the deed, but this time as he cast this to an already possessed Madam Rosmerta, he almost felt nothing at all. He was saving his arse, besides, it wasn't like he was casting a Crucio or anything. This wouldn't affect her. He took another deep breath before a string of words slipped out of his lips, "You see this box?" his other hand shoved in his pockets, pulling out a small container. "You will give this to Katie Bell and cast an Imperius Curse to her. Tell her to give it to Sir Dumbledore and let him touch it. After that, you will not remember this conversation." Madam Rosmerta nodded.

There was going to be a Quidditch Match before their Hogsmeade trip, and from what his sources had been telling him, it was usually Katie going to Madam Rosmerta to get some Butterbeer or Firewhiskey. At this rate, all he needed was Gryffindor to win (which was pretty much already a hundred percent positive) and they were in. The plan would go as he wanted to. Draco placed his wand in his pockets before stalking off, making sure that he snuck in the correct corridor before walking his way back to the castle. Thank Merlin for hidden doors, or else sneaking out of Hogwarts would've been impossible.

Now, all he needed to do was get the hell away from Filch's cat and–

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned around, his stance alert and his wand out only to be faced by a familiar Gryffindor. "Granger?" he whispered incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"Prefect, remember?" Hermione raised an eyebrow as if it was obvious. "Besides, I can't sleep."

"Well then, Granger, good bye."

"Wait!" He turned his attention back to her. She had her arms crossed and a foot was tapping repeatedly on the concrete. "You still haven't told me why you're here. You aren't a prefect so, that wouldn't be a reason..."

There were millions of ways he could answer her–many ways. He could say that he was just taking a walk around, or he couldn't sleep. Fuck, he could even say that it was none of the mudblood's business, but instead he had said, "I had been reading Shakespeare... so I decided to take a walk around and I also couldn't sleep." Great, he muddled everything together. Damn the Unforgivables. They always took a toll on him and his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly started to cluck like a chicken. Well, at least it was better than 'I just went to Hogsmeade to Imperius Madame Rosmerta and let her kill Dumbledore unintentionally.' Ah, bloody brilliant.

The suspicious look she had been giving him was gone and the corners of her lips curved up into a full-blown grin. Gone was the tired-looking muggleborn, he thought almost bitterly. "Really? What did you read? How did you like it? I didn't realize that you followed my suggestion."

Draco had read Shakespeare before... wasn't really his taste of books, but then again, it was good enough. He, then, smirked, "'Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change."

Hermione's nose crinkled, "Romeo and Juliet?"

"The first thing I saw," he shrugged. "Got a problem with that, Granger?"

"I didn't know you were a tragedy-romance type... I just... I'm not a fan of it."

He shook his head, "It's amusing that they killed each other for 'love'," he rolled his eyes. It was stupid. "It makes them weak, giving up so easily. If that's love, it's not as powerful as one would think."

"Hmm, I don't think it was love at all, but lust," Hermione hummed in approval, and her eyes lightened as she continued to talk. "It's dumb, I don't know why people claim the story was irrevocably romantic and how the two people had fought for love when they hadn't really fought at all." Ah, so it seemed that they finally agreed in something.

Draco chuckled, a small smile growing on his face. "Finally agreed on something I said, eh Granger?"

"That's the first time you ever said something civil, Malfoy," she snarked.

He smirked, "Touche."

The comforting silence was cut off when they could hear familiar footsteps. "Where are they?" He could hear Filch's mutters and they could almost see his shadow. Draco was about to run to the other end of the corridor when the nasty old cat had finally spotted them before the man had followed. They found themselves staring down at the caretaker. "Well, well, well, students breaking out of curfew–"

"I am a Prefect, sir," Hermione caught off smoothly. "I already deducted points from Mr. Malfoy and am escorting him back to his common room."

She had lied.

If there was any time for jaw dropping, it would've been now if he hadn't restrained himself. Here was Granger, the Gryffindor Princess... or mudblood as he had once called, lying for him. He hadn't heard the rest of the words that came out of Filch's mouth nor had he been paying attention to the way the Gryffindor had her hand pointing at him every now and then. He had only gotten to the end when he saw the caretaker gave a satisfied nod before walking off. He hadn't even noticed the fact that she was holding his wrist when she got out of their way before she let go. "You lied," he whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows, still not registering why she had done that.

"Well, I did stall you from coming back to your common room, was the least I could do," she waved it off before giving a Slytherin-Like smirk. "I guess it's time to part ways," she said before hesitating. "Have a good night, Malfoy, and next time, you'd read something more enlightening than Romeo and Juliet."

"Have a good night to you too, Granger..."

He strolled off.

She wasn't that bad at all... for a mudblood.

He grinned at the thought.

Draco stared at the familiar eyes of his best friend as they walked down the hallway, finished with breakfast. "You finally did it?" Blaise cocked up an eyebrow as slung his bag on his shoulders. Noticing the tension between the two, Pansy leaned into the blond Slytherin, her head hitting his shoulder in the process. "Last night?" he prompted.

He nodded.

Pansy grinned almost relieved, but there was a spark of concern in her face. "How was it?" she whispered.

If there was anyone who could understand on how hard casting an Unforgivable could be, Pansy would've understood... any sane death eater would've. They should want it–need it. If he wanted to cast the killing curse, it was more than just saying the two bloody words and point the wand at the victim... no. He should want it. He should desire the victim to drop dead on the floor. It was same with the Cruciatus Curse and also similar to the Imperius Curse. They had done all three, as some sort of... sick test for the Dark Lord before they took their mark.

The first time he did it, he cried. He remembered Pansy contacting Blaise, and they floo over to Zabini Manor as he tried to convince them that they weren't monsters, that they weren't those heartless creatures that considered themselves above everyone just because they could kill with no regret. He hated that feeling.

But the longer he did it, the less he felt.

And there were times he felt scared–that he was finally turning to the monsters his father and his aunt Bellatrix were.

Now, he felt nothing. He was relieved, that the burden had lifted somewhat off his back. He despised it, but outwardly, to Pansy and Blaise, he managed a small smile. "It was alright."

Silence.

They were about to make it to class when a familiar redhead had bumped into Pansy, knocking her off her balance. Draco's hand shot to her arm, steadying her. "Watch it, Weasley!" Pansy growled at him, wrenching his hand off her, staring at the tall freckly wizard that stood in front of him. In his right side were Harry and Hermione who glanced warily at the female Slytherin.

"Come on, Ron, let's–"

"Why don't you watch it?" he snapped. "Too busy fawning over the ferret to pay attention to where you're walking to?"

Pansy rolled her eyes, "That the best you got, Weasel? That insult is as old as your hand-me-down robes!"

The Weasley was about to stomp forward to get nearer to her when Blaise and Draco stood in front of him, their arms crossed as they glowered at the redhead. "Potter," Blaise spat. "Why don't you do something useful for a change by getting the git out of our sight?"

"He's not a git. You are."

It was Draco's turn to laugh, "Are you sure, Potter? I'm sure I wasn't the one who's about to hit a girl."

"Not a girl, really," The weasel had the nerve to speak! "More of a bitch really."

Draco punched him right on the nose, his grey eyes flashing and changing into a stormy grey. He was about to stomp over and say a spell that would render him senseless before Blaise grabbed his arm, pulling him back right away. Pansy snarled, "Expelliarmus!" She yelled, pointing her wand at the Weasley's, grabbing the flying wand that flew towards him. "You son of a bitch! Stupefy."

The redhead froze and he dropped to the ground, frozen.

Hermione was the first one to react, yelling a "Avis Oppugno!"

"Protego," the Slytherin Prince shouted, and the bright light that shot out of her wand disappeared immediately. "Stay out of this, mudblood." He said, almost tiredly, not in the mood to start a fight with Potter and his gang of idiots. He was exhausted.

She recoiled, "You bloody–"

"What are you six doing out of class hours? I believe Transfigurations is your first class, isn't it?" They turned to see the beady eyes of Professor Snape.

His mother will definitely hear about this, that was for sure.

Draco groaned.