Silence

by LyraAymara
 
 
 

Draco bitterly looked at Potter in potions class. He was in a foul mood, and not even Snape’s
usual favoritism cheered him up.
 
He was blind to the tortured look on Harry’s face, as he lost another ten points for Gryffindor,
oblivious to Hermione’s hand waving in he air, accompanied by that familiar look she had every
time she knew the answer to a question and no one else did. He didn’t even notice Neville’s
yelps of pain as he spilled yet another cauldron of scalding potion on himself.
 
People would later remember the faraway, dreamy look in his eyes that day. But at the moment,
Draco didn’t care. His mind slowly drifted back to his childhood, where everything had started to
go wrong.
 
***
 
It was his 10th birthday. Not that no one ever recognized that, much less even knew beside himself.
His father was in a foul mood as usual, sitting at the head of the table in Malfoy manor, just waiting
to vent his wrath an whoever, or whatever was the first thing to irritate him.
 
Narcissa stood in the corner, with a neutral look on her face. She was just like a statue, as beautiful,
and as cold and unfeeling. However, Draco knew, beneath that iceberg persona there was a real
person, a human being with all the values that his father despised.
 
Staring straight ahead, Draco’s eyes flick to her for a second, and then flicked to the other people
at the table. Lucius had invited his friends over for another dinner. They generally talked business
afterwards, most of which Draco didn’t hear, but from what he did he determined that it couldn’t
be very pleasant. It had a lot to do with Voldemort, Death Eaters, and sometimes even him.
 
Draco snapped to attention when everyone else left the table. His father motioned for him to stay
where he was, so he did. Lucius walked over, looking keenly at Draco. It was a cold, calculating
look that Draco saw all to often. Mostly when Lucius was considering the profit that could be made
out of the situation.
 
 “You will meet us in the drawing room at 8:30.” Lucius curtly informed him. “You will be wearing
your formal robes.”
 
Draco nodded his head in assent, his blond hair falling into his eyes.
 
As soon as his father had left the room, he headed toward his rooms. Draco had an entire wing to
himself. It was full of family portraits and tapestries which all somehow seem to have a serpent on
them.
 
After going up a winding staircase, he reached his bedroom. It was pretty bare, except for a silver
clock, a mirror, a wardrobe and a tiny window. It was at the highest point of the house. When Lucius
was angry with him, he would sometimes beat him and lock him in his room for days, knowing quite
well that Draco could not escape.
 
Draco opened his wardrobe, and pulled out his formal robes. They were black, made of some rich
material, and like everything else in the house, had a serpent on it. He brushed his hair back, and
went downstairs to meet his father.
 
Draco felt the first pangs of fear when he walked down the hallways to the Drawing room. They
were usually silent, but for him it was a comforting kind of silence. But this time, It had a metallic
tint of fear and death to it.
 
He opened the door to the drawing room, and saw all his father’s friends lining the walls. He knew
they were Death Eaters, but the words just did not have the same connotation to him as it did to
many other wizards. To him, they were just another set of household guests.
 
He recognized Lucius by his tall, slim form, but was unable to recognize the others, as they were
wearing masks. He moved to the place indicated by a unrecognizable death eater, and stood a few
feet from the red carpet in the middle of the floor. As he watched someone muttered an incantation,
and with a flash of light Voldemort was standing in front of him.
 
“Draco Malfoy, do you know who I am?” Voldemort asked in a voice that sent shivers up Draco’s
spine.
 
“Yes,” he heard himself reply. “I also know that you are dead.”
 
“Not dead. I still have a soul, even though I have basically lost my body. The image you see here
is a projection of my true self, held here by the will of my faithful death eaters.”
 
For once in his life, Draco didn’t know what to say.
 
“Do you know why you are here?” Asked Voldemort
 
Draco shook his head
 
“You have great things planned for you, but first you must prove you are worthy.”
 
“What do I have to do?”
 
“You are to be my spy, my eyes and ears at Hogwarts, when you go there next year. You may find
others who are loyal to me, and others who used to be and are not now. And when you turn 16, you
will be initiated as my heir.”
 
Draco felt himself go stiff with shock “Why?”
 
“That is not your concern.” Voldemort said, his voice going, if possible, colder. “Bring the pendant.”
He said to Lucius.
 
Lucius bowed and brought forward a pendant on a silver chain, made of a glowing material.
However, it seemed to glow not with light but with darkness. When it was put over Draco’s head,
it shone brightly for a second before turning a dull black color.
 
“When that glows again, you will come to me.” And with that, Voldemort disappeared
 
The Death Eaters started filing out of the room. Lucius came up to him, and Draco could hear the
anger in his voice.
 
“How dare you question the dark lord?!” He said. “The Master was lenient with you, but I am
ashamed of your behavior. Just because you have great things in store for you does not mean that
you can disrespect your betters.”
 
“But….”
 
Lucius casually backhanded him, the serpent ring he always wore slicing painfully across his cheek.
Draco reeled, and tasted blood. Before he had a chance to recover, Lucius hit him again. This time
the punch hit Draco in the chest, and he heard a crunch as his ribs broke.
 
“Get up!” shouted Lucius.
 
Draco dragged himself to his feet, swaying slightly.

Lucius’ eyes raked over him. “Get out.”
 
Draco ran, half-blinded by pain, all the way back up to his room. Once he got there, he collapsed
on the bed, and cried.
 
***
 
Draco was back in potions class, everyone looking at him strangely.
 
“Draco!” yelled Snape. He realized that he had been called several times. “What’s wrong with
you today?!”.
 
“I’m feeling sick, Professor.” Draco muttered as he gathered his books together and dashed out
the door.
 
As he walked the empty hallways to the Slytherin common room, he ran his finger over his
cheek,  where there was a barely noticeable scar.
 
No one who truly loves you would give you a scar like that Draco thought.
 
He passed a group of Ravenclaw girl who were discussing their favorite topic, Harry Potter.
Perfect Potter he thought bitterly. Everyone loves him, he’s famous and the only thing he
has to show for it is a stupid scar. At least he has people who love him, like Weasley
and the Hermione girl. It must be nice to know that you have people around you who
would give their life for you. I have no one I can trust, or care about but myself.
 
Draco wished life was simple, that he could simply go to some foreign land where everything
was perfect, and there were no secret feuds or wars going on. People talked of peace and
happiness. Draco didn’t believe in such things. They only existed in fantasy, in imagination.
They were nothing but a dream, and Draco had no time for dreaming.
 
***
 
Draco got his grades a week later. Everyone else was looking forward to the holidays, but
Draco was dreading having to go home to face his father.
 
No, not my father, he thought. Lucius. He doesn’t deserve to be my father.
 
His grades had taken a nosedive that year, going from being second to only Hermione Granger
to at an approximately equal level with Neville Longbottom. The only class which he kept getting
decent grades in was potions, probably due to Snape’s predisposition to Slytherins, in particular
him.  The teachers had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and his apparent lack of energy.
They had even gone so far as to send him to Madame Pomfrey for a weekend.
 
However, Draco knew, that he was not suffering from a disease of the body, but rather from
one of the soul. His 16th birthday was coming up, and he had spent all year dreading what was
going to happen.
 
Draco had never exactly loved muggles and mudbloods, but he certainly didn’t hate them enough
to kill them. The only person who he hated enough to kill was Potter, and push comes to shove he
probably couldn’t even do that.
 
 Lucius said that he was too soft, and Draco privately agreed with him. But when he went home,
his father, already angry at him, would probably beat him to a pulp because of his grades.
 
Outside it was snowing like there was no tomorrow, covering all of Hogwarts in a thick blanket
of white powder. Since school had been canceled for the afternoon, he sat in one of the rooms
and watched the snowball fight going on below.
 
Even Professor McGonagall was participating, completely soaked but still hitting people with
snowballs. Draco could see Snape out of the corner of his eye, scowling out of the hall windows,
the only person completely dry, because no one had dared to hit him when he walked outside.
 
Draco felt an irrational surge of anger towards the people playing outside. He could just imagine
Voldemort torturing all of them. But slowly his vision of Voldemort’s face changed to his face.
 
A shattering noise brought him out of his thoughts. He had knocked a glass off the table. And if
he looked at them closely, the shards were the same color as the pendant he still wore around
his neck.
 
I’m lost, Draco suddenly realized. I don’t know what to believe in anymore. I used to believe
that the only absolute in the universe is power, but I’m not so sure now.
 
And with that thought, Draco resumed his pacing of the hallways, searching for an answer to his
problems that he was unable to find.
 
***
 
Running up a stairway, 3 stairs at a time, Draco ran into Hermione.
 
Actually, it was more like he ran over her. She was walking to opposite direction down the narrow
staircase, and neither one of them were paying any attention to where they were going.
 
Hermione’s armful of books and quills fell, scattering all over the stairway. Draco muttered an
apology and began to pick up her books. He looked up to see Hermione staring at him like he’d
sprouted another head.
 
Until that moment, he had never really noticed how beautiful she really was. He had always thought
of her as Potter’s friend, seeing her every day but never really looking at her. Her long brown hair
looked almost golden in the light that streamed from one of the skylights.
 
“What?” demanded Hermione irritably “Are you thinking of another mean and nasty comment?”
 
“No”, he said “I was just thinking about how beautiful you really are.”
 
With that he deposited the books in her arms and dashed up the rest of the stairway, with
Hermione still staring at him.
 
After dinner, Draco headed to the library, where he sat down in a vacated chair, and pulled the
nearest book towards him. It was Hogwarts: A History, opening it, he absentmindedly begun
reading it. He had read it before, so he just stared at the page.
 
Draco looked for a word in the book to describe what he was feeling. He had no idea why he
suddenly felt this way, but he did. Suddenly an idea came to mind.
 
Is this what love is? Is this the feeling that people get?
 
Draco didn’t have anymore time to think as Hermione came in and sat down next to him.
 
“Malfoy…What did you mean by that?” She said softly
 
“I said what I meant. I think you are beautiful.”
 
“But…”Said Hermione
 
“You want to hear that I am a horrible person? Fine! I am a jerk, with no morals whatsoever
who just exists to make you miserable.” He exploded, “You want to hear that I hate Potter and
would do anything to hurt him? OK, I do! But I don’t hate you, I love you and I don’t even
know why! I don’t even want to love you, heck; I don’t think I even know what love is. But if
it exists, what I’m feeling now must be it. So if you want to reject me for all the horrible things
I’ve done, that’s alright, but at least think about it first!”
 
“Malfoy?” Hermione said after a long pause. “Did you just ask me out?”
 
Draco blushed. “Yes, I suppose so.”
 
“But you hate me! I’m the little mudblood know-it-all who tags along with Harry Potter!”
 
“I know I said that, and I meant it at the time, but I’ve had some time to think, and I think that
what I said was wrong. I admit it, I was wrong about you. I’ve been told all my life to look at
people as tools, but when I looked at you on the staircase I saw, for the first time in my life a
real person.”
 
“I don’t know if I can love you.” Said Hermione slowly. “I’ll think about it.”
 
And with that, she was gone.
 
Draco just sat there, breathing heavily. I can’t believe I just said that. If my father finds out,
he’ll kill me for sure. I can just see it now. “You’re in love with a mudblood!? And not just
any mudblood, Potter’s mudblood girlfriend! You are a disgrace of a Malfoy!”

No, I don’t care what he thinks. I’ve make up my mind about her and that’s that.
 
And with that Draco left, heading back to his common room.
 
***
 
It had been a few months since the day that Hermione had told him that she loved him, and life
had been reasonably pleasant for Draco since.
 
Their relationship was still a secret (Draco could just imagine Potter’s and Weasely’s reaction
to the news – “Hermione, you did what?!” “With WHO?!”), except to Mrs. Norris who had
walked in on them kissing in the prefect’s bathroom, and probably Filch, who knew everything
that Mrs. Norris knew.
 
Their relationship had developed over the holidays, as Draco  had stayed at Hogwarts because
Lucius was so disgusted with him that he wasn’t welcome home, and Hermione had wanted to
stay in order to study more in the library.
 
But the end of school (And therefore his birthday) was fast approaching, and he knew that
ignoring it was not going to make it go away.
 
He really did love her, but he didn’t want to hurt her.
 
I’m more harm than good for her, Draco thought.
 
But what was there to do about it? Draco couldn’t imagine life without her anymore. Every
morning he got up, he did it for her. Every class he went to, he did it for her, just to see her.
Draco knew it was an unhealthy obsession, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she
seemed just as besotted with him as he was with her.
 
Oh my god, I don’t know what to do! Whatever I do will hurt her. But he knew it was only
a matter of time until he had to tell her.
 
***
 
Draco quietly slipped out of the Slytherin common room, going to see Hermione for one last
time. Tiptoeing down the passageway, he turned into the room where they always met. It was
a secret room, One that could only be accessed by brushing your hand across the arm of the
portrait, which would smile sweetly and let you in.
 
Hermione was waiting for him, as usual. Draco bent down and kissed her, but Hermione knew
there was something wrong. She looked up at him, her eyes asking the unspoken question.
 
“Hermione,” Draco began. “I have something to tell you.”
 
Hermione nodded.
 
“I truly love you, and I know you love me. We used to be worst enemies, and we felt that
was the way it would always be. But hate is just another side of love, and somehow I found
myself in love with you. But all this,” Draco gestured around him. “Is just a like a dream.
And I go through it knowing that I will someday have to wake up. And when I do, I will
have been asleep for so long, that my life will be completely out of my hands. I guess what
I’m trying to say is, we’re just not meant to be. I’m sorry Hermione; this is just the way it
has to be. Please try to understand.”
 
Hermione was silent for a second, and then spoke.
 
“Just like that, huh. You used me, and now, when you have no use for me you just throw me
away. You say you are sorry, you ask me to understand. But I don’t see how you can just walk
away, how you can give up the chance for true love just because of a stupid feeling you have.
You say it’s fate. I don’t believe in fate. Your life is what you make it out to be, not predetermined
by such words as fate and destiny. You ask me to understand. Well, Draco, I don’t and I never
will. I’m sorry too, sorry for you. You will go through your whole life tormented by the idea that
you missed your single chance for happiness.” Hermione looked Draco straight in the eye.
“Goodbye, Draco Malfoy.”
 
And those words had a finality to them that was so inescapable, that Draco felt tears come to
his eyes.
 
Hermione turned and walked slowly out of the room. Once she was out of sight, she ran back
to Gryffindor tower, silent tears streaming down her face. She said the password, and the portrait
swung open without question. Throwing herself down on her bed, she couldn’t understand why
he had said that.
 
And I thought he had changed. Hermione thought. I should have known better. Draco
Malfoy is what he is, and nothing and no one can change him.
 
***
 
Draco wandered around for the next few days in a daze. He felt more lost than he ever had in
his entire life. Lacking a sense of purpose, of being, he sat in a chair by the fire in the Slytherin
common room, staring listlessly at the flames.
 
On the other hand, Hermione was expressing her hurt and sadness by taking refuge in the library.
Despite Ron and Harry’s attempts to cheer her up, she seemed to have withdrawn into a shell and
gone into hibernation, not likely to come out anytime soon.
 
The only person she would talk to was Harry, and they spent long hour together, alone with the
books. Seeing them together infuriated Draco. Every time he saw one of them walking down the
hall he gave them such looks of utter loathing that they often came to classes early, so that they
could avoid him. One day after Herbology, Harry came up to him. When he spoke his voice was
dangerously low
 
“I heard what you did to Hermione.”
 
“Is that so…” sneered Draco.

“You broke her heart, just so you could feel more secure with yourself! You selfish bastard!”
Harry was yelling at this point.
 
Draco’s temper was rising, his cheeks flushed. He replied without thinking
 
“Yes, I did. Why? Because I don’t want, or need anyone but myself. When you love someone,
they always just turn around and hurt you!”
 
“So that’s how it is. Okay Malfoy, have it your way. But you so much as look at her the wrong
way, and I swear I will beat your ass into the ground. They’ll be picking up bits of Malfoy from
the Forbidden Forest for the next decade.”
 
“Oh, is that so, Potter?” Draco taunted. “Feeling up to the job? Because, you know, your
parents might not approve. Oh wait I forgot, you don’t have any parents do you. Good thing
too, imagine if they were still alive and produced more worthless trash like you. Worthlessness
runs in families you know…”
 
Something in Harry snapped. He leaned forward and punched Malfoy in the face. However,
Draco was not about to give up without a fight, and punched him right back. By the time the
teachers got there, Harry was sporting a black eye, and wiping a slight trickle of blood from
his chin. Draco was holding his nose, which was now bleeding profusely.
 
Professor Sprout ushered them up to the hospital wing. After healing their cuts and bruises,
Madame Pomfrey let them go. Both of them were hoping to get away without being noticed
by Professor McGonagall, but they had no such luck.
 
As soon as they stepped out into the hallway, both of them were being set upon by an angry
McGonagall.
 
“20 points from Slytherin and Gryffindor!” She shouted. “And you each will serve a detention
tomorrow tonight. Mr. Malfoy will go to assist Snape in the dungeon.”
 
“And you,” she said, rounding on Harry. “Will clean the Great Hall, under Filch’s supervision.”
 
Harry groaned inwardly to himself.
 
“And if I hear any complaints, it’ll be another 50 points from each of your houses.”
 
Both of them trudged off in opposite directions, not looking back.
 
***
 
That night, Draco had a strange dream. He was back in Malfoy Manor, and Lucius was
standing there waiting for him.
 
“Father.” It was a statement, not a question “How did I get here?”
 
Lucius smirked. “This is a dream, Draco. With the help of our Master I can communicate to
you through your dreams. The time is coming for you to join him, to serve the Dark Lord. The
pendant, remember the pendant, Draco.”
 
“Is there not another option?”
 
“No, there is not. You were born to this fate, and you cannot help but fulfill it. Do what you are
told, and your every wish will be fulfilled. Oppose us, and I will personally make sure you die a
very painful death.”
 
“What do you care about more, me or what I will become.”
 
“What are you trying to say?”
 
“Do you love me?”
 
Lucius thought for a second. “I love no one.”
 
And with that, the dream was over.
 
***
 
Draco went to serve his detention, in the dungeons. Snape was waiting for him.
 
“Mr. Malfoy, do you know why I specifically requested you?”
 
“No, Professor.”
 
“I have something to show you.” Snape pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark, burned
onto his arm. “I know that you are deeply involved in the Dark Arts, but I just wanted to tell you
that a better life exists, and that you can escape it all if you wish.”
 
Draco nodded his head, and at Snape’s dismissal, fled.
 
Draco found himself back in the room where he used to meet Hermione, with no memory of
how he had gotten there, or what he had done after he left the dungeons, which was, by his
watch, exactly and hour ago.
 
He laughed bitterly to himself. Wouldn’t it just top it all off if I went completely and utterly
mad? Draco thought. Potter would just have a field day. And that Skeeter woman; she
would make a headline like “Malfoy boy goes mad from school pressures at Hogwarts.”
Or maybe “Malfoy Boy disgraces his respectable family.” No, Lucius would not stand
for that. He would probably drown me, and then hold a private funeral, saying I had
died of being bitten by a snake. How ironic. Slytherin’s heir killed by a snake poison.
 
Draco relaxed back onto a soft, shaggy rug, which was in the corner. If I died right now, I
wouldn’t mind, he thought. At least then I would have peace.
 
***
 
There was only a few more weeks left to school, and everyone was in a good mood, with some
prominent exceptions. Snape was never in a good mood, and for that matter neither was Draco.
The teachers even seemed to be going easy on the exams this year.
 
Mostly, Draco supposed, it was probably relief at not having Harry dragged in barely alive for
the 5th year in a row. Or maybe it could just be the good humor that seemed to be penetrating
to the bowels of the school.
 
However, Draco was impervious to all of this. The nightmares were becoming more frequent,
with Lucius and Voldemort as regular guests in his sleeping mind.
 
In some dreams he conquered the world; in others he tortured Harry to death, in yet others he
had Hermione as his concubine. In some he killed his father, in others Voldemort killed him, and
with his last dying breath Draco thanked him.
 
The pendant, which had hung against his chest for so long, had begun to burn him, and often it
pulsed with the same strange light. Occasionally he had tried to break it, but with no success.
Moreover, when he took it off, It was as if part of him went with it, inevitably drawing him back
to it, making him wear it. Draco thought of it as a mark of shame, a sign of his lack of willpower.
 
Draco did not see Hermione around very much, and she appeared to be ignoring his existence.
He just let her do what she wanted, determined not to get involved in any more romantic affairs.
 
Harry’s hate for him had not seemed to have changed in the slightest, but he made sure to keep
an extra eye on Draco when Hermione and Draco were in the same room together.
 
This was not too much of a problem for Draco, who was busying himself with Quidditch. It was
often said that he bought his way onto the team, but this wasn’t entirely true. Draco was an
excellent Quidditch player, besides being the only person in Slytherin house with the build and
skills required to play Quidditch as a seeker. Draco didn’t think he could stand the shame of
losing to Harry again. It wasn’t that he was a bad player; It was just that Harry naturally better
at flying that he was.
 
Draco was out at Quidditch practice later that day, training for the upcoming match against
Gryffindor. Their new team captain, Nigel Warrington, was obsessively going through all their
best moves, and when one person messed up, he would immediately start yelling at them at
the top of his lungs. Draco privately thought that all the stress had unhinged his mind.
 
The day of the match, they all got into their green Quidditch robes and walked out onto the
field, holding his Nimbus 2001. At the signal, all the players launched into the air. Draco soared
high above the match, looking for the snitch.  Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Potter
doing the same thing.
 
Slytherin was winning so far, 30 to 25. Draco dodged as one of the Gryffindor Beaters sent
a Bludger straight at him. Draco dove suddenly, and Potter followed him.
 
Swerving up right before he hit the ground, He narrowly missed a collision with one of the
Gryffindor chasers.
 
By the time her recovered, Harry was already back above the field. The score was now tied.
Then suddenly the snitch appeared on the far end of the field.
 
Harry, possessing the better broom was obviously going to get there first. Draco put on an
extra burst of speed and purposefully collided with Harry.
 
“Foul!” screamed the referee.
 
Harry gained control of his broom just in time, and Draco swerved away. But the snitch was
gone once again.
 
Glancing below he saw the Gryffindors yelling at him, and Hermione looked ready to kill him.
 
I don’t care. Draco firmly told himself.
 
The game was still dragging on, and it was obvious the players were getting tired. Draco saw
the Snitch at exactly the same time as Harry. He dived, willing his broom to go faster. Harry
was practically neck-to-neck with him now.
 
Draco had a sudden vision of Hermione cheering Harry on. She loved Harry, not him.
 
Before he thought about what he was doing, he slammed his elbow into Harry’s face. He was
rewarded with a sickening crunch as Harry’s nose broke. But right before he fell, Harry had
just enough time to swerve away.
 
The broomstick handle collided with the side of Draco’s face, knocking off his broom. His last
conscious thought before he hit the ground was I hope that Potter hits the ground before me.
 
Draco came to in the hospital wing. Turning over slightly, he saw Harry lying in the other bed.
Madame Pomfrey had obviously fixed their injuries, and she was asleep in a corner, with that
familiar disapproving look still frozen on her face.
 
Draco got up, hoping to sneak out before Harry woke up. He slipped out the door, breathing
a sigh of relief….and found himself face to face with Hermione. She glared at him with a look
of pure hatred, and slapped him hard, before storming off in the opposite direction. Draco, his
cheek still stinging, slipped back to his room and lay down on the bed.
 
***
 
Draco didn’t go to school the next day, he simply lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He
simply didn’t think he could handle to see Harry and his friends, in particular Hermione.
 
Looking toward his wall, he saw his calendar. It was almost the end of school, and therefore
the day he was dreading.
 
How convenient, Draco thought. It just figures that my birthday is on the last day of
school.
 
Draco, in a sudden surge of anger, stormed to the common room and threw it in the fire.
 
The other Slytherins looked at him strangely, and one o the girls took the opportunity to cuddle
up to him. Pushing her roughly away, he stormed back up to his room.
 
***
 
Draco went to classes after that, and half-heartedly attempted to concentrate on them.
However, he was hearing voices, which was definitely not a good sign. Join Voldemort
They said, And you will get whatever you desire. Join the Dark Lord, and you will
be free.
 
Draco attempted not to listen to them, but they became more insistent.
 
What are you so afraid of? They would say.
 
I’m not afraid of anything! He would reply fiercely.
 
But you don’t really believe that, do you?

 Just leave me alone, Damn you!

 And the voices would disappear for a while, only to be back in his mind in a few hours.

Try as he might, the temptation was getting the better of Draco. Being able to conquer the world,
and then having Potter bowing before him was a little too much to resist for him.
 
Potter had been looking at him strangely ever since he had heard Draco talking to himself in the
hallways. Honestly, Draco didn’t give a flying fuck.
 
***
 
Time has an uncanny ability to speed up when you dread something coming. Before he knew it,
Draco had taken all of his tests, and it was the last day of school. He got an owl that morning,
which had only a few directions written on it. Go to the forbidden forest at midnight, It said.
There was no signature, but Draco knew who it was from. As he read it, the pendant burned
and began to pulse Getting up from the table, he left the Great Hall, throwing the note in the trash.
 
At 11:30 that night, Draco was pacing nervously back and forth in the room. His roommates
had gone home earlier that day, so he was all alone. The pendant now glowed brightly, as he
had remembered it doing six years ago.
 
Draco grabbed his wand, and put on his blackest robes, and sneaked outside. He cursed himself,
then cursed his father for getting him into this.
 
However, Draco could see no other options. He supposed that he could confess everything to
Dumbledore, but his pride prevented it. With all of his Dark Arts training, Draco doubted that
he could ever lead a normal life.
 
Draco suddenly felt that something was watching him. He looked up to see the green eyes of
Mrs. Norris watching him. Draco used a stunning spell on her, and took great pleasure in seeing
her crumple from the wall.
 
Knowing that teachers could detect magic when it was used on the grounds, he broke out into
a run, and didn’t stop until he was in the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
 
***
 
Suddenly, on the opposite side of the clearing he was standing in, Voldemort appeared,
accompanied by his usual flock of death eaters.
 
Draco paused for a moment. Do I want to be a killer? Do I really want all that power, if it
comes at the price of so many lives?
 
And in his heart, he knew the answer was no.
 
It’s a little to late to have doubts now, Draco thought.

And the voices in his head agreed.
 
Go! They said It is your fate, your destiny!
 
Draco took a step forward.
 
“Wait.” Said an all too familiar voice.
 
Draco spun around. “Potter!!! What are you doing here!”
 
“I read your note, and followed you with my invisibility cloak. Now that I’m here, It’s quite
apparent why you are here.”
 
“What does it matter to you, Potter?” Draco asked bitterly “You’re great, you’re famous,
You’re perfect. Go back and live your perfect life in your perfect little world and leave me be!”
 
“I cant do that. I’m sure you know what you are about to do is wrong. But you have a choice,
you can choose which side you are on.”
 
“That’s exactly it, Potter. I don’t have any more options. It’s my destiny to become Voldemort’s
heir.”
 
Draco took another step towards Voldemort.
 
“Think about it, Draco. Do you really want to do this?”
 
Draco thought for a moment. “No, I don’t, but I won’t come back with you.”
 
“I just want you to do the right thing.”
 
“What are you doing! Get over here!” Yelled Lucius from the other side of the clearing.
 
Something inside Draco snapped. “No! I won’t do it!” he screamed, tears coming to his eyes.
 
Draco fingered his wand. “Leave me alone! All of you!”
 
“I can’t.” Said Harry and Lucius in union.
 
A sudden vision of Hermione flashed in front of his eyes.
 
Draco stood tall, with his chin high. He pulled out his wand.
“What are you doing, you moron!” Yelled Harry
 
Draco heard his own voice as if from far away. “I’ll do what I have to do to be free.” He said
softly.
 
Draco turned his wand around to face his heart. “Avada Kedavra!”