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Honeydukes Cellar (Incomplete FF) Here is the home to those stories who didn't quite get told in full.

 
 
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Old 06-01-2011, 12:24 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Shrike Malfoy
Seventh Year
Slytherin The Gates Swung Open - Draco's Tale - Sa16+

Hi all,

This is my first ever published Fan fiction (ekk) - please be gentle with me (:¬) (All feedback welcome ) I have put this in the 16+ category as there may be some nasty stuff later on....

All these characters are the Property of JK Rowling, (Thanks Ms Rowling for letting us into your world) - I am only borrowing them for this story and promise to give them back (:¬).

This is a Draco Fan-Fiction - the story is based on the novels and the films - I've mixed it up a bit and i'm sure you'll spot where the two combine.

This humble tale follows the untold story of Draco Malfoy after the escape from Hogwarts. I don't know about you but I wondered how he fared at the school once the new term began...How would a 'Death Eater' be received at Hogwarts after Dumbledore's death?.....Maybe the experience would be the making of him? Perhaps there's a romance and some action later on?

Please excuse any continuity slip-ups - purely unintentional

Chapter One

August 1997

It was mid morning, the bright sunshine cast shadows across the rear courtyard gardens. Tall conifers lined the walls; all were carefully pruned to form a flat wall of green. Somewhere a peacock yelled out for its mate. Otherwise all was silent and still.

To the edge of the courtyard in the shade of the old conifers sat a lone figure at an old ornate iron table and chair. Usually immaculately turned out, the lone figure wore his shirt unfastened over a faded black t-shirt, his trousers turned up to his knees. He sat with his feet up on the table, reading a newspaper. A light breeze blew though his ruffled white blond hair making it stand up on end in places. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to neaten it out.

He straightened out the paper and carried on reading. A sound startled him, he put the paper down, he silently lowered his feet back to the ground and draw his wand.

He glanced around, narrowed his grey eyes and squinted as he looked out for the source of the sound. He cursed himself for being so jumpy, but he had been since the previous spring - since the flight from Hogwarts only a few months before.

Something landed on the iron table in a gigantic flurry of feathers, he jumped back, tripping on the iron chair, fell backwards and landed painfully on his backside. He cursed and stood up gingerly. The mass of feathers looked down at him and hooted.

The eagle owl stared at him with his huge golden –brown eyes and held out his leg. Attached to it a single sealed parchment envelope, addressed to ‘Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy Manor’ the Hogwarts seal stamped into the top right hand.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Draco told the owl, the owl just hooted back and held his leg out patiently. He pocketed his wand and reached out, untying the letter from the owl’s leg. The owl hooted again and flew off towards the Manor’s owlery.

Draco looked down at the parchment, his hand shaking a little as he broke the seal on the letter and began to open it. He began to read the letter, his eyes narrowing as he did so and sweat began to glisten on his pale cheeks. Fearfully, he pocketed the letter, grabbed hold of his paper and ran off into the manor.

Draco ran into the hall and skid to a stop, panting hard he walked over to the drawing room door, there was a sound like muffled laughter coming from inside and pushed it slightly open and peeped around the door. His aunt Bella lay on the drawing room table - laughing. Not wanting to know what else she was doing he slowly closed the door and walked over to the other side of the hall, to the library.

He pushed the library door open, his mother sat on a plush leather sofa by the fireplace and seemed to be alone. She turned, looking up at him from over her book and smiled. "Hello Draco." She said, "The sun getting too much for you?"

"No," Draco said pulling out the Hogwarts letter and showing it to her. She looked at the letter, closed her book and put it down on the arm of the sofa.

"Come over here Draco." His mother said, she smiled at him and beckoned him over to her.

Draco walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat next to her on the sofa and handed her the letter. She looked down at it and read it intently. "You must go back there Draco." She said finally.

"You must be joking mother. I’m not going back there." Draco said angrily standing up and looking down at his mother as though she had turned insane like his aunt.

"Yes you are Draco, even you have to finish school." Narcissa Malfoy told him. She still held on to the letter.

"Mother, I’m not going back, I’m seventeen now – the trace isn’t on me anymore. Can you remember how I left there last year?" Draco said, he felt a panic rising up in his throat. He sat back down on the sofa and held his face in his hands, ‘What a mess’ he thought.

Narcissa looked down at her only son, put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him towards her, she pulled him into a hug and he let her. She held onto him and his body began to shake with unshed tears.

"I know Draco," she told him as she held onto him, she rested one of her small, pale hands on his face and lifted his chin up until their eyes met, "Now, listen to me. I want you to go back to school, you’ll be safe there, away from the death eater’s, your aunt and out of the Dark Lords reach."

Draco thought for a moment and nodded. He let his mother scoop him back into a hug. She alone had protected him. His father and Aunt Bella had insisted that he act like a fully-fledged death eater. He took the letter from his mother’s outstretched hand.

"Besides Severus will be headmaster." She told him. "You’re a pure-blood – you have nothing to fear, the other teachers will leave you alone."

“It isn’t the teachers that worry me." Draco told her looking down at the parchment and the list of books for the new school year.

"Potter won’t show his face there either." Narcissa said, almost as an after thought.

"Sure of that are you? If I will be safe from the Dark Lord at Hogwarts, what about from Potter?"

……………….

That morning Draco awoke early; he had repacked his truck at least twice. In all the previous years he had never been so nervous about going back to school. Yes, last year he had been filled with trepidation but mostly excitement. He had been eager to show the dark lord what he was capable of – to bring back honour to the Malfoy name. He had mostly succeeded – hadn’t he? He’d repaired the vanishing cabinet; let the death eater’s into the castle. Dumbledore was dead – maybe not by his own hand. The dark lord had expected Draco not to be able to repair the cabinet – to fail, but he hadn’t failed. If only he had the strength to kill Dumbledore.
The scene in the Astronomy tower had ran through his mind over, and over again. He knew the curse, his aunt had taught him – bringing him muggles to test his new skills on, they had begged for their lives of course, he had used the curse and had killed the muggles. Their pathetic bodies dragged out of the Manor and burnt the same night. He laughed at the memory.

But, why? After succeeding in getting the death eaters into the school, couldn’t he kill an old frail man? A frail man he himself had disarmed? Dumbledore had offered to help him, and his family – to hide them, to get them away from the Dark Lord. Yes, his father would have hated that – but his mother? She had wanted him to go back to Hogwarts, finish his education. What good would it do? Did the dark lord care about exam results? About how well he’d done in his Potions NEWT? She had said that he’d be safe at the school, the dark lord couldn’t enter Hogwarts, and he couldn’t force Draco to torture and maim anyone for him – whilst he was there. What was he now? Going into hiding?

Draco ran his fingers through his white blond hair and glanced at himself in the mirror. He had grown again since the spring – his new suit may accommodate his height but even the tailor had commented on his slimmer waist. He had lost a lot of weight over the last school year he’d hardly eaten at all. Instead he had worked on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He had spent every available minute there. But since the spring and the flight from Hogwarts his appetite hadn’t improved. As he looked in the mirror, he could hardly recognise himself as the self-assured boy he had been little over a year ago. Driven. Driven by his lust for revenge against Potter. And wanting to see honour of the Malfoy name restored.

He finished repacking his truck and locked it. All his new books safely stowed at the bottom along with his new quills and parchments. New robes folded neatly on top with the rest of his uniform. He laid out a spare uniform on his bed, along with his house robes and wand. He began to fold them and put them into his leather case. He paused over his wand for a moment and instead put it in his jacket’s top pocket. He then headed downstairs to breakfast.

Breakfast was laid out in the drawing room, on the every same table where the muggle studies teacher had been killed and eaten by the dark lords snake Nagini. Draco gulped as he sat down to breakfast, the house elves had set him out a large spread – but he wasn’t hungry. His mother sat opposite and smiled encouragingly at him. He looked down at the breakfast again and forced himself to eat.

Half way through breakfast the doors of the drawing room slammed open. Draco turned quickly to the noise and quickly swallowed the piece of food he had been chewing. His father strode in; he had shaved and looked far more like himself than he had since he’s arrived back home from Azkaban.

Draco’s mother turned to his father. Her face fell. "No Lucius." She said. "You’re not going."

"You don’t tell me what to do in my own House!!" Draco’s father said whirling into the room and taking a seat at the head of the table. He helped himself to food the house elves had laid out and filled his goblet.

"Lucius, we’ve already had this discussion." Draco’s mother said, an edge coming into her voice. "You’ve not long escaped Azkaban, there will still be aurors looking out for you."

Draco’s father put a generous helping of bacon in his mouth and began to chew it. He pointed his fork at his wife and through a full mouth of bacon he said, "Narcissa, if I want to take the boy to the station I will…"

"No, Lucius, I can’t risk you being captured by aurors. And besides if you’re seen with Draco they’ll arrest him too."

Draco kept his head down and continued to eat. He had heard his parents argue at the breakfast table many times. He was used to it – it was mostly about him. His school grades used to be the main reason. His parents were disappointed that he was being beaten in school tests by a mudblood. His father had wanted him to learn more dark curses and his mother did not - that was now the latest one. His father had told Draco that he had the potential to be a great wizard – if only he applied himself. Draco had already shown himself to be gifted at Occlumency, non-verbal spells and advanced transfiguration. He still wanted to make his father proud of him – but at what cost?

He hurriedly finished his breakfast and excused himself from the table. He left his parents arguing and walked out of the drawing room. He left the manor by the back door and strode up to the owlery. Inside his eagle owl hooted in greeting and flew down from his perch and onto Draco’s outstretched arm. He carried the owl outside and off into the grounds. He stroked the large bird’s feathers, "Now," he told it. "Off you go to Hogwarts. I’ll see you there."

The great bird stretched his wide brown wings and with one powerful sweep of his wings took off into the air. Draco watched as the large owl flew off into the air as he had done at the beginning of every school year. Draco envied it, and wished for one moment he too could fly away. He suppressed the thought, he had to and he had to put the mask back on. He couldn’t afford to lose his edge and show any weakness, even for a moment. Not now – not ever.

Last edited by demented_death_eater; 06-13-2011 at 02:58 AM. Reason: correcting prefix
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Old 06-03-2011, 11:42 AM   #2 (permalink)
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First Year

Ministry RPG Name:
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This is really interesting!

I look forward to where you take this!

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Old 06-03-2011, 07:29 PM   #3 (permalink)
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
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Seventh Year
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Hi Ruby85,

Thanks for reading my humble tale.

Here's some more.....

__________________________________________________ ____

Chapter two

Hogwarts Express

Draco was the first one in the Slytherin carriage. He flung his bag up onto the luggage rack and sat down. It seemed strange to him now to be back here – almost as though nothing had happened. He took a seat by the window, looking out at the faces of witches and wizards on the platform. His mother had won that morning’s argument – as she often did, he smiled. His father had gone off in a huff and his mother had taken him to London. They had used the floo network and appeared out of a fireplace at the back of the platform 9 and ¾. Draco’s trunk was loaded up onto the train as he and his mother said a fleeting farewell, as she vanished into the steam she had promised to write. She would write more frequently so Draco would know they were safe and well.

The other Slytherin’s were arriving now in the carriage. They glanced at him and most smiled in greeting. Other’s obviously surprised to see him after his flight from Hogwarts the previous school year. Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle entered the carriage and looked over to him. They walked over and joined him.

"Draco." Zabini said in greeting offering his hand, Draco took it and they shook. “Didn’t think we’d see you here."

"Really Blaize and why not." Draco replied with a smile looking around at the faces in the carriage. He cast his mind over to the previous year. Their friendship had thawed a little. He had kept himself busy with the task he had been given by the Dark Lord and had neglected them; he was surprised that they had greeted him. But did he see something else in their faces? Did he see fear? Perhaps loathing?

“Well I thought that might be obvious, Draco.” Zabini was saying. “You left school a little – abruptly last year. Didn’t think you’d be back”

‘Neither did I.’ Draco thought.

Parkinson and Bulstrode had arrived in the carriage – they looked over to Draco warily and sat away from them, not daring to look at Draco. Not that he cared.

He looked out of the window and ran his fingers though his white blond hair - so like his fathers. His reflection stared back at him – his pointed face, sallow complexion, his grey eyes filled with the horrors he had endured – of the horrors his family had, had to endure.

His mind raced with the Death Eater’s words in the astronomy tower – had his father felt his way? Trapped? Unable to get out of the mess he had put himself in to? As in reply the Dark Mark begun to burn. Draco hid his discomfort and ignored the burning of the mark. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the cold glass. The glass vibrated against his skin. The train had begun to move.


Draco glanced at the faces of parents waving their children off, their faces betraying their anxiety. He found his mind drifting off to previous years, of his mother standing on the platform waving him off. Of the packages of sweets and other good things she sent him in his first year by owl. He smiled.

Each year passed and she had seen him safely onto the train, last year he had resented her mothering. Not this year however, yes, she had seen him on to the train but then once she had hugged him… he could feel her hug still – he blinked - remembering the feeling of warmth, safety and reassurance she had offered him. She left soon after, melting away into the steam from the train – to go back to the Manor and their ‘guest’. He felt his heart lurch and then he shuddered.

That summer his death eater training had begun in earnest. His Aunt Bella had taught him the unforgivable curses – bringing him muggles and muggle-borns to try them out on. Yes, he had enjoyed that – to torture muggles and muggle-borns – magic thieves….he sighed with satisfaction. His mother had encouraged him and praised him when he did well. The Dark Lord was pleased with his progress too and had put his new ‘skills’ to the test.

Torturing for the Dark Lord’s amusement? Yes, he had wanted to resist but he has much as he wanted to – he paused - his thoughts a jumbled bag of emotions – the Dark Lord had terrified him. He had done what the Dark Lord had wanted - too afraid of what would happen to him and his family to resist. He had already threatened them all – offered a gift of death to the Malfoy’s if he had failed the Dark Lord. For a split second he had envied Potter who had no family to worry about – after all they were already dead.

London was now fading away; fields and trees replaced it as the train raced on towards Hogwarts. Hogwarts would be his sanctuary now from the Dark Lord. The spells cast at the school protecting him from the wrath of his master.

Crabbe reached into his bag and took out his usual assortment of sweets and pasties from home and put them down on the table. He and Goyle grinned as they started to stuff their faces with assortments of sweets, chocolate and everything else.

“So how was your summer?” Zabini asked them all. Crabbe and Goyle spoke of weeks of flying, practicing spells now that their traces had been lifted and all the usual. Zabini had turned to Draco - about to ask him the same question. He must have thought better of it and turned back to Crabbe and Goyle and the others around them- questioning them as he always did. As normal – Draco sighed – not that everything was normal now.

As the train raced on Draco was mesmerised by the rolling fields, hills, trees and lonely houses. He wished for a moment that he could get off the train. His stomach lurched – he hadn’t wanted to come back – hadn’t he bragged the previous year that he wouldn’t be coming back? ‘I can’t see me coming back for charms next year.’ He had said to Blaize and Parkinson.

The train began to slow, the Slytherin’s murmured, confused as to what was happening. Draco’s heart began to hammer in his chest and he sat up in his seat. Perhaps the dark lord had changed his mind, maybe he wanted his youngest death eater back.

The train slowed to a crawl and then ground to a halt. The occupants of the carriage stood and looked out of the windows.

"There’s people out there. " one of them said.

Draco looked out of the window where the others were looking. Two death eater’s he recognised stood there, walking purposefully down the train. He carried on watching them as they climbed aboard. They walked through the Slytherin’s carriage, looking about. They saw Draco but ignored him – he wasn’t the one they’d come for. The death eaters carried on down the train.

A few minutes later the train began to move again. Intrigued Draco stood and made his way down to the prefects carriage. Other students stood aside as he walked past. Others’s seemed afraid and ran from him. He smiled enjoying the way other’s avoided him.

In the prefect carriage two new Slytherin prefects sat wildly chatting. "What’s going on?" he asked them. The prefects stopped and looked up at him. One a girl with long dark hair and chisled features looked up at him fearfully. The other a boy turned to Draco. "Death eaters have been on the train looking for Potter," he told Draco, "but Potter, Weasley and the Mudblood didn’t board at the station”.

Draco nodded his thanks for this bit of news and left the carriage, he headed back to the Slytherin carriage, mind buzzing. ‘No Potter,’ he thought, ‘or his little friends.’ He smiled as he took his seat next to the window.

He could feel tension leaving him as he told his news to his friends. They laughed and cheered. Buoyed by the news and looking forward to a school term without St. Potter and Co.
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Old 06-03-2011, 08:10 PM   #4 (permalink)
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Seventh Year
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Chapter three

They had arrived at Hogsmeade station. Draco had changed into his robes now. His usual clothes shut away in his case, the school robes seemed to give him strength – or perhaps they helped distance himself from the other Draco – the one he despised, the death eater and slave of the Dark Lord.

He glared out the window again. The oaf Hagrid was waiting for them – lantern in hand – as he had always done – ready to take the first years off to the boats. Part of Draco revelled in the normalcy of it all. As though the last year had been a dream – or a nightmare he mused.

Draco waited as the others stood and collected their bags. Finally he arose and took his own bag from the rack above. He glanced at the rack – half expecting to see something move, perhaps he had dreamed it all and Potter would be hidden there, maybe he could change things – yes – he’d still break Potter’s nose of course. He smiled at the memory. The smile died as he realised that no, Potter wasn’t there and this was real. He turned and headed towards the exit.
…..

Draco stood still with shock. He shuddered as he looked on the creatures harnessed to the school carriages. They had a dragonish face, neck and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse. One of the creatures turned and looked at him. Thestrals. Nott walked up to his side.

"You see them too?" Theodore Nott asked him. Draco nodded unable to draw his eyes away from the nightmarish creatures. "Come on, let’s get a carriage before we have to share."

Draco dragged his eyes away form the creature and followed Nott onto the carriage. Crabbe and Goyle were already on the carriage, Draco and Theodore Nott took the seats opposite as the carriage began to move off. Once out of earshot of the other student’s they began to talk.

"I heard that the Dark Lord killed that Muggle Studies teacher," Crabbe laughed. "What’s her name?"

Draco didn’t answer. He had after all seen it all, her body finally eaten by the snake, Nagini. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to talk about.

"Charity Burbage." Nott replied. "Dad was there, he told me all about it."

"You where there too Draco." Crabbe said. "What happened?"

Draco felt uneasy. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle’s expectant faces. Reluctantly he began to tell them all about what had happened in the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, although he did omit the part where he had fallen out of his chair.

"Great! Serves the old bag right." Goyle was saying. "Proper Muggle lover her."

Nott, Crabbe and Goyle laughed. "There’s no Defence against the dark arts this year either." Draco told them. "I heard them talking about it afterwards."

"Oh yeah, what we do instead?" Crabbe asked him.

Draco smiled. "We get Dark Arts instead." He told them triumphantly. "The Carrow’s are teaching at Hogwarts this term." He added quietly.

Crabbe and Goyle let out whoops of joy and laughed. Draco sat back in his seat watching them as they laughed. He folded his arms and looked over at the creature pulling the carriage.

He remembered what the oaf Hagrid had said. Thestrals, could only be seen by a person who had witnessed someone die. And he had seen three - Dumbledore, Rowe and the muggle studies teacher. He remembered back to that Care of Magical Creatures class, of the whispers with Parkinson and a brief annoyance that he couldn’t see the creature Potter, Lovegood and Nott were staring at. Now he wished that he couldn’t see them. But, he wondered nervously how many more deaths he would see?
….

He walked up the lonely drive towards the main gates with Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. Filch was waiting there as always. He glanced at the caretaker and ignoring him they continued on their way.

Draco carried on up into the entrance and towards the great hall. He was on alert as he followed Crabbe and Goyle in, Potter hadn’t been on the train – but some of his friends were, perhaps they would try something? Were they hiding? Ready to spring out and hex him within an inch of his life. He drew his wand just in case.

But would they dare? He thought on – ready for any retaliation. He made his way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench between Zabini and Goyle. They didn’t speak but looked around the Great Hall too, muffled whispers echoed through the hall. Not only was Potter not on the train, but neither was the mudblood or Weasley.

His eyes were drawn to the teacher’s tables. He had been there when the Death Eaters discussed the change of teachers but nothing had really prepared him for the sight of the Carrows, Snape and several other Death Eaters sat at the table amongst the familiar faces of the usual professors. Around him frightened faces looked at the table and others glanced over to Draco. They turned away as Draco looked at them in return.

Draco smiled. With no Potter about to spoil his fun? He laughed inwardly and he felt a smile tugging at his mouth. The old Draco, the one without a care and the leader of a gang of Slytherin bullies rose his white-blond head – oh yes he could enjoy himself this term.

McGonagall brought the first years in to be sorted. Bored, Draco took his wand out of his robes and practiced turning a goblet full of pumpkin juice into wine. Ignoring all else. He knew that his mother had insisted that he came to Hogwarts for his own safety. But what good would it do? He had overheard the conversations; he knew that his parents didn’t truly believe that they could ever be safe from the Dark Lord. Had his father too had second thoughts about the alliance with Voldemort? Greyback had said that he had no stomach for it – if only he had known this before – would he too have allied himself with the Death Eaters? Could he have resisted the Dark Lord – would he have never started on the task to repair the vanishing cabinet? Would he be here now staring at the back of Potter’s head instead of Neville Longbottom’s?

He stopped. His thoughts racing through his head at the speed of light and confusing him even more. He wanted it all back to normal, he wanted to be himself again, not a frightened kid expected to be a man. He looked around the Slytherin table in envy – Nott, Crabbe and Goyle’s fathers were all Death Eaters – they hadn’t joined the Dark Lord’s ranks. If the Dark Lord hadn’t threatened his family would any of this have happened? He rubbed his temples as his head began to throb with all these thoughts, wishing there was a way to rid him of them.

He looked forward to the banquet being over and going to the common room and on to the dormitories – where finally he could be alone with his thoughts – then he could be Draco again. Snape rose to the Owl Podium and silence descended on the room. There were stunned gasps from around the room. The Slytherin table erupted in applause before he began to speak – Snape acknowledged them and raised his hand for silence. They already knew that they would be keeping their new housemaster and the Daily Prophet had run the story that Hogwarts would be gaining their old one as headmaster.

Draco didn’t look up at Snape as he started his speech. He had seen Snape enough that summer and couldn’t look at him without even more painful memories returning. He had wanted so much to ask him what Greyback had meant when he had said that his father hadn’t the stomach to kill either? He rubbed his eyes – his mind had raced with that question for weeks now. He was too scared to ask his father, or his mother and cursed at himself.

Draco didn’t have much of an appetite and picked at the banquet – he wanted to be off and away back to the common room. Away from the frightened, fearful faces and those who clearly loathed him. Of course they all knew what had happened last year and he felt uncomfortable enough already.
…………………..

Draco sat down in the Slytherin common room. The others had gone to bed leaving him alone, the fire flickered. For the first time in as many day’s he felt safe. Safe from the Dark Lord, from the torture he had been forced to inflict on others.

He picked up his advanced transfiguration book and began to read in the flickering light from the fire. He pointed his wand at the fire and flames leapt up.

He did feel a little uneasy still – he couldn’t concentrate on the book and closed it. Snape was now headmaster. He who had taken on his - Draco’s - task and had killed Dumbledore instead.

He was still confused and didn’t understand whether he should feel happy that Snape had taken on his mission in the end. His mother had made Snape take the unbreakable vow. She had wanted to protect Draco. The Dark Lord had insisted that Draco take his father’s place as a death eater. With his father in prison – he – Draco, was now man of the house and head of the Malfoy family. It was his job to protect his mother and also to restore the Dark Lord’s respect for the Malfoy’s.

But, he should have been the one to kill the old man. Yes, the Dark Lord was pleased to hear that Dumbledore was dead. But, he was angry that his newest death eater couldn’t kill an old, weak man. Old man, he thought, that’s all he was and still, with the old man at his mercy he still couldn’t kill him. The Dark Lord had praised Severus Snape for doing the job Draco couldn’t. It made him sick, wasn’t it him after all who had got the Death Eater’s into Hogwarts?

His head throbbed again as the anger built. He pushed his anger back down and looked at his watch - it was getting late. He had already delayed going to bed, fearful that the dreams would begin again. He closed his book, stretched and climbed from the leather sofa. He walked slowly off down the stairs into the dormitories.
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Old 06-03-2011, 08:54 PM   #5 (permalink)
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Seventh Year
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I'm on a roll now - I hope you are enjoying this little tale soo far? I can promise a little a little bit of Action, Romance and lots more of Draco later, stay with me I promise you won't be disappointed (:¬)

_________________________________________________

Chapter 4

The following morning Draco dressed and walked up the steps from the dungeons with Crabbe, Goyle flanking him and Zabini and Nott walking behind. They headed towards the great hall. Other students got out of their way as they walked. Draco smiled, he barged a first year out of his way as he walked into the hall.

Fearful eyes looked up at them as they walked down to the Slytherin table. The teachers were already at the tables. Snape, McGonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick and all the others. They watched as students milled around, chatting to friends and jostling for a seat.

Draco sat down; the others sat either side of him and Zabini and Nott in front. They laughed at a joke Zabini told, perhaps louder than they needed to. Frightened faces turned to look in their direction – Draco glared back at them daring someone to try something. Breakfast appeared at the tables and they all tucked in, chatting away as though nothing had happened – laughing at Gryffindor’s expense and wandering where Potter and his friends were and discussing what they’d do to them if they were the ones to catch them.

Slughorn walked down the Slytherin table handing out timetables. After an age Slughorn gave Draco his timetable. He looked down at the timetable and winced. The first lesson that morning was double transfiguration with McGonagall. ‘Great!’ He thought sneering, ‘what fun that is going to be.’ Draco stood up and left with Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco walked slowly from the Great Hall, Crabbe and Goyle had gone on ahead. He had sent them off – but now he began to feel eyes on him, he looked back into scared faces and smiled. Crowds of other pupils parted to let him pass.

He stalked through the corridors, shoulders back and head held high. Smiling at the effect his presence had on those around him. His confidence heightened, he strutted down the corridor, his swagger back. There was no Potter to spoil this for him, no one to take away his moment – this was Hogwarts, and he was determined to rule it.

Finally he reached the transfiguration corridor, walked in the open door, the room was full, and all eyes turned towards him and then as quickly back again. He was the last one in the class.

"Finally," McGonagall said. "Mr Malfoy – you’re late! Twenty points from Slytherin." Her sneer was obvious. Draco stared at her with loathing and sat.

The lesson had passed without further incident, Draco found transfiguration easy, talented as he was, his Aunt Bella had perfected his talent for conjuring things out of thin air. She was a good teacher if a little ‘demanding’. She had already taught him occumency in the previous year and over the summer she had brought him muggles to practice the Cruciatius and Imperious curses on.

The next lesson was Arithmancy, also a subject he had been good at, but never good enough to beat Granger, now she wasn’t here he was determined to excel and be at the top of the class – and make his father proud.
….

Lunchtime came and Draco met up with his Slytherin friends, they hung around the old tree and watched first years scuttle about. The first years ran past them wearily. Draco smiled as he spotted a lonely Ravenclaw third year sat close by with his head stuck in a book. He nodded towards the third year and the others smiled and nodded back. They pushed off from the tree they lent against and stalked over.

The third year spotted them when it was too late. Draco had taken out his wand and cast a spell. The third year screamed as he was pulled into the air by his ankle dropping his book to the ground. The Slytherin’s laughed as the third wriggled about in the air. Goyle called the book to him and laughed. He held it out to Draco, who took the book and looked down at it – it was a romance, Draco sneered at it and threw it at the third year who tried to catch it. The Slytherin’s laughed again and cheered.

“St-st-stop it Malfoy.” Came a voice from behind them.

Draco and the others turned. They all began to laugh again. The third year – forgotten – crashed down to the floor. “Well if it isn’t Longbottom!” Draco sneered his wand still raised. Longbottom had his wand raised too.

‘Expellimus!’ Draco thought and Longbottom’s wand flew from his hand and off into some bushes. Draco swaggered over to him and stood only inches away from him – Crabbe, Goyle and the others stood behind him. "You forget Longbottom…” he said quietly with unconcealed venom, so only Longbottom and the other Slytherin’s could hear him, “…that I was able to disarm even Dumbledore himself!”

He sent a spell at Longbottom who was unable to protect himself. Longbottom too flew up. He wriggled about in the air, trying to free himself. The Slytherins stood watching him as he struggled. They continued to laugh as Draco flew Longbottom from left to right and up and down, then whirled him around and around.

"That’s not very nice you know…?” said a dreamy female voice from their left.

Crabbe and Goyle were laughing so hard at Longbottom that they didn’t even draw their wands. Luna Lovegood walked over to them and looked up to Longbottom who dangled still in the air.

"Get lost Lovegood!” Draco sneered. He turned his attention back to Longbottom, smiling.

“I really think that you should let him down now.” Lovegood said.

"Hey, Longbottom!” Draco shouted at Longbottom as he whirled around in the air. "Your girlfriend’s here!”

"Leave her alone, she’s not my girlfriend!” Neville called as he whirled faster and faster.

"Ooooooh…" Draco called. Spinning Longbottom faster still.

"Let him go." Lovegood said.

Draco turned back to her. She had drawn her wand.

Neville Longbottom - now forgotten - dropped heavily to the ground spinning as he went and landing with a crunch. Lovegood winced as he crashed to the floor.

“Well…” Draco laughed, “Look boys….Looney Lovegood thinks she can take me.”

Crabbe, Goyle and the others laughed. They all drew their wands and pointed them at Luna.

“Put them away,” Draco told them. “She’s mine!”

Draco threw a spell at Luna, she blocked it. Despite himself Draco was momentarily impressed. “Not bad Lovegood…” he said before launching another spell at her. She blocked that spell too. Angered Draco threw another one. She was too late to deflect that one and flew backwards and into a heap on the ground next to Longbottom.

“MALFOY!!!!” came a voice to the side. Little professor Flitwick came ambling over. “I saw that Mr Malfoy, Fifty points from Slytherin!!”

Draco laughed and turned his back on the tiny professor. He began to walk off. “Coming?” he called to the others who seemed rooted to the spot.

“Come back here, Mr Malfoy!!” Flitwick called after him, “I haven’t finished with you yet!”

Draco stopped and turned back. “I’M FINISHED WITH YOU!” he yelled. The little professor went red.

“Draco, I don’t think it’s wise to….” Zabini began to caution him. “That’s seventy points off already and it’s only the first day of term I don’t think…”

“I didn’t ask you to think Zabini...” He said suddenly, he mentally kicked himself as soon as he’d said it.

“Fine…” Zabini said and stalked off followed by two others leaving only Nott, Crabbe and Goyle.

Startled Draco watched them walk off without a second glance. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle in turn; they looked back at him carefully. Flitwick cleared his throat and Draco turned back to him. He looked down his nose at the tiny professor.

“Detention!! Mr Malfoy. My class this evening. Be there at seven sharp!!” with that the little professor walked off.

Draco put his wand back inside his robes with a flourish. He looked around, Luna and Neville looked at him with smiles on their faces. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT???” he spat. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, “You coming?” he asked them.

They nodded numbly and followed in Draco’s wake as he hurried away.

At lunch Zabini and the others ignored him and sat with their backs to him. They carried on their conversation in hushed whispers looking over at Draco and laughing. Draco shot them a hot look and turned to Crabbe and Goyle. Behind them sat the Gryffindor’s, they too looked over at Draco and laughed nervously, all attention otherwise on Longbottom and on Lovegood who had joined them. Draco recognised those sat together as members of Dumbledore’s army. Draco had been instrumental three years before in catching them in the room of requirement. Ironically, that was how he had learnt how to enter the room that held the lost things.

He sat and listened to Crabbe and Goyle as they chatted excitedly about that afternoon’s double lesson – how renamed ‘Dark Arts’.

They waited outside of Snape’s old Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The Slytherins’ were nervous with excitement and the others just nervous. The door opened and a deep male voice that Draco recognised shouted, “ENTER” it was Amycus Carrow.

The Slytherin’s filed in and took seats at the front. Draco and Goyle on the front row with Crabbe and Nott behind. Carrow’s lesson centred on the many fine uses of the dark arts. Crabbe and Goyle’s hands raised into the air the whole lesson. Draco listened – not really taking much in – what could Amycus teach him that his Aunt Bella hadn’t already taught him during his training?

By the start of the second period a short knock sounded at the floor. “ENTER.” Carrow shouted. The door creaked open and a nervous looking Slytherin fifth year crept in cautiously clutching a note in her hand. She walked slowly up to Carrow and put the note in his hand, her hand shaking. Carrow closed his fist around the note and the fifth year fled out of the classroom. Carrow opened the note and turned his eyes towards Draco. “Malfoy, Professor Snape wants you in his office; take your things with you.” He sneered dropping the note on Draco’s desk.

The other students whispered to each other nervously as Draco packed his quill and parchments away, took hold of the note and stalked out of the class. He strode down the corridors towards the headmasters office. The corridors were quiet; the few portraits watched him, as he passed otherwise nothing stirred as he walked. He stopped a few moments later at the stone Gargoyle.

“Enter.” The Gargoyle said in Snape's voice. Draco stood on the steps and the staircase spiralled up towards the headmaster’s office.

At the top of the stairs Draco strolled into the headmaster’s office. Heart in his mouth. He looked around the office, at all the little whirling gizmos and the model of the heavens. He walked up the stone steps to Snape’s desk. He hadn’t been alone with Snape since the previous year in the corridor outside of Slughorn’s office.

“Come in Draco.” Snape said.

Draco walked up to the headmaster’s desk. Snape was bowed over the old wooden desk, writing. Behind him the portrait of Dumbledore – the painted figure sat in his chair, snoozing.

“Sit, Draco.” Snape said not looking up from his writing.

Draco kept his eyes on the portrait as he walked on and sat at the chair before the headmaster’s desk. He dropped his school bag on the floor and glared at the professor.

“Draco, Professor Flitwick tells me that you’ve earned a detention.” Snape said slowly, his attention still on his writing and not looking up at him.

“Yes.” Draco replied. Looking around the office.

Snape looked up at him finally, the once friendly face twisted in disappointment. Snape stood and pushed back his chair. He walked around his desk and stood behind Draco. “Are you trying to get yourself expelled, Draco?” he drawled.

“No.” Draco replied quickly glaring up at Snape.

Snape was suddenly in Draco’s face, his face twisted and a lop-sided snare on his face. “Really? You do surprise me Draco.” Snape said. “Want to re-join the Dark Lord so soon?” His eyes flicked up into Draco’s quickly before looking away again.

Snape walked around the chair and back to his desk, he sat back down, looking away from Draco and back at the parchment he was writing on.

Draco remained silent. He looked down at his hands and twisted the Slytherin house ring around his finger nervously.

“Draco, you must be careful.” Snape said. “I know you do not…enjoy…doing the Dark Lords bidding.”

Draco froze and glared at him. The hatred he felt at the man who had taken his glory raising its head. At that moment he wanted so much to kill Snape.

Snape just smiled. “You may have learnt Occumency from your Auntie Bella, Draco." Snape sneered. "But still, I have known you long enough to know when you are afraid.”

“I’M NOT AFRAID!” Draco shouted standing suddenly, pushing the chair away as he rose. He tried to reach for his wand but somehow Snape had stopped him.

“Yes you are!” Snape replied angrily, quickly raising from his seat and slamming his fist into the desk. “Your mother sent you here for safety. The Dark Lord cannot enter Hogwarts and you know it!”

Draco gulped and stepped back in fear. He felt a warm flush at his pale cheeks as they darkened with colour.

“Sit down Draco.” Snape drawled. Draco took his time and sat back in the chair. He slid back and readied himself.

Snape picked up the parchment and folded it; he sat back down and looked the younger man in the eye.

“Draco," he said. "There are teachers and students here at Hogwarts who would like to see….”. He picked up his seal and warmed a wax brick on a candle. “…Harm befall the Death Eaters at this school….” He sealed the parchment and stood. He walked around the desk and stood behind Draco, “…do not give them an excuse to try something, do not duel with other students…and…DO NOT-“ he paused a moment, “-allow yourself to be alone with McGonagall, she has….Implied that we are not welcome here.”

Draco took Snape’s words in for a moment. “Why are you telling me all this now?” he asked, “why not before term started?”

“Draco, you have been avoiding me since last spring – this is my first opportunity to speak with you.” Snape said quietly. “I may no longer be bound by the un-breakable vow but I like you Draco. And I want to help you.”

Draco looked up. He stared into Snape’s eyes for a moment. He reached up to his wand – resting his hand there for a moment, he tried Legilimens but Snape was blocking him.

“Nice try Draco.” Snape said genuine praise in his voice – he grabbed the back of Draco’s chair and lent down to whisper into his ear. “Now, really I must warn you. Certain teachers of this school were trying to get me to agree to them practicing the Cruciatius curse on those who have earned a detention….”

Draco looked up at Snape in horror.

“…. If I allow it - Dumbledore’s supporters may find excuses to send you for a detention with the Carrow’s - they can to make your life here … unbearable, I can only protect you so far –"

Draco turned slightly into Snape’s face. He looked briefly into his eyes, they were sad and glistened slightly in the dull light from the surrounding candles and he glanced away again. Confusion filled him, once he had wanted to kill Snape, and now he…what did he want? Snape had been almost like a father to him once, a confidant, the betrayal when he had killed Dumbledore still burned. Draco closed his eyes and willed his thoughts to stop for a moment.

“Take care Draco, if you are expelled, you must leave the sanctuary of Hogwarts.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Draco asked abruptly unable to disguise the venom in his voice. He stood and faced Snape. “Is this your sanctuary from the Dark Lord??” he spat.

“As you know well Draco.” Snape drawled without emotion. “The Dark Lord arranged for me to be made headmaster of this school. It is my job to do his bidding. But!” Snape paused. “You must stay here…keep your head down Draco. Do not give me a reason to expel you –”

“Have you finished Professor?” Draco spat.

“For now.” Snape told him. “There is a fifth year waiting outside,” He held out the parchment, “take this and tell her to give this note to Professor Flitwick...” He told him, “You may go.”

Draco stood and took the note from Snape, he collected his school bag and without a word he walked out of the headmaster’s office and down the stairs. The same scared looking fifth year waited at the bottom of the stairs, he gave the student the note and he strode off down the corridor and towards the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.

He spent a few minutes alone in the dim room; he took an apple from the table at his side and took a bite on it. Soon the common room would be full of noisy Slytherins. He revelled in the silence for a few more minutes until the first few pupils came in, most spotted him and smiled. The same scared looking fifth year walked in soon after and approached Draco, she held out a parchment note to him. He took it and opened it. He read the note and smiled. Flitwick had cancelled the detention.
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Old 06-03-2011, 09:42 PM   #6 (permalink)
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Seventh Year
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Chapter five

Word of Snape’s intervention in getting the detention cancelled had obviously gotten around. Gryffindor’s whispered amongst themselves that morning, glancing nervously at Draco and Snape. Zabini and the others still ignored him. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott asked Draco about it and grinned as he told them some of what had happened. He could feel eyes staring at him from the teacher’s table. McGonagall and Flitwick whispered, wildly gesturing.


For the rest of the week Draco kept a low profile as Snape had suggested. Not that he needed to. The other students kept out of the Slytherin’s way or just ran at the sight of them. Crabbe and Goyle complained loudly about the lack of opportunities to bully first years but Draco smiled, enjoying the feeling of power the terror his presence instilled in others. They strutted through the corridors and onto the Paved Courtyard they laughed and talked about the new teachers and their lessons so far.

Further into the Paved Courtyard a small crowd had gathered, they called and jeered. Someone was yelling, begging to be let go. Crabbe and Goyle stopped and smiled. A group of Slytherin third years had cornered some Ravenclaw first years. Draco folded his arms and lent against a nearby wall. They watched in silence as the third years pushed and pulled the first years and laughed.

Crabbe and Goyle continued to laugh too at the faces of scared first years. Draco remained silent, planning his next move. The teachers seemed to be trailing them – every time they looked around either Flitwick or McGonagall were watching them intently, Draco had held his companions back on occasion, knowing that their actions would reflect badly on him.

Draco looked around the courtyard and up into windows and balconies, he couldn’t see any teachers about, he smiled. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, “Go on.” He told them. “There’s no-one around.”

The two boys understood straight away and smiled. They walked over side by side to where the third years stood. The third years stopped and looked around fearfully at the two boys. The first years lay on the floor cowering. Crabbe and Goyle drew their wands and pointed them at the first years. The third year Slytherin’s watched hungrily as Crabbe and Goyle cast their curses.

“Crucio!” they both shouted.

Draco swore and pushed himself from the wall he lent against. And began to stride over towards them…he didn’t get far.

“CRABBE, GOYLE!!” came a harsh, but high-pitched voice.

Draco paused and turned towards the voice – Alecto Carrow. She came running over to where the small group stood her face pink with rage.

Crabbe and Goyle let go of the first years and turned to face her. “Come with me!” she smiled and turned. They obediently followed her, concerned expressions on their faces. She led them past where Draco stood and off into the castle.

Alone, Draco stalked out of the Paved Courtyard and off to Arithmancy.

He caught up with Crabbe and Goyle at supper. They sat and talked excitedly about the afternoon they had spent with Alecto Carrow. She had them, cursing Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students if they got an answer wrong in her Muggle Studies class. Her class was mandatory and she taught them about the stupidity of muggles and how they should be ruled.

Draco had already heard this from his father and in the Muggle studies classes he had attended so far he had gained much praise from Carrow.

…………….

Several weeks went by, it was now approaching winter and a thick carpet of snow lay on the grounds. Today was the Hogsmeade visit. Anxious students clutched their wands to their chests as they walked down the narrow path into the village. Crabbe and Goyle walked on ahead, firing curses at other students as they went. Draco followed behind talking to Nott. He and Nott had known each other for many years; their fathers had been friends and had attended Hogwarts together along with Crabbe and Goyle’s fathers.

Draco had found Nott good company over the last few weeks, now Zabini and his cohorts had stopped talking to him, and Crabbe and Goyle were spending more time alone together practicing curses and casting them on the poor unfortunate souls who had earned detention.

After weeks of keeping his head down, Draco had not given certain teachers reason to either send him for detention or dock more points. In fact, he was now top in his Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Charms classes – much to Flitwick’s dismay.

He had received an owl only that morning from his mother and father pleased with his progress and praising him. His fellow Slytherin’s had ribbed him mercilessly. At one point they snatched his mother’s letter and began to read it out loud to the others. Draco yelled and drew his wand.

“Mr Malfoy!” came the shout. McGonagall appeared by his side and glared at him. She turned to Zabini and held out her hand. “The letter Mr Zabini.” Zabini grinned at Draco and handed the letter to her. She in turn handed the letter back to Draco, and then she turned and walked on down the rows of tables.

Draco flushed pink and pocketed the letter, Zabini and his cohorts laughed, as did Crabbe and Goyle. “What’s up Malfoy?” Zabini sneered at him, “missing your mummy?”

Draco shot him a hot look.

“Shut up Zabini.” Parkinson said. “Leave him alone.”

Draco felt his pale face go pink. He had ended his relationship with her last school year. He couldn’t risk giving the Dark Lord any ammunition against him. Yes, she had been angry and didn’t understand why he had broken it off. He had needed to give his full attention to the task the Dark Lord had given him…..

“OOhhh…getting girls to fight your battles now? Bit of a come down from Snape isn’t it.” Zabini sneered. The Slytherin’s laughed, all except Nott and Parkinson. She gave him an apologetic look.

It took all his resolve not to retaliate, his ever-present anger rising like a snake in his gut. Instead he stood and stalked out of the Great Hall to echoes of laugher. All face’s turned to him as he walked.

Nott had followed him as had Crabbe and Goyle although reluctantly.


Draco kept his head lowered against the driving snow as they walked on. Nott talked on about Muggle studies and they laughed as they had recounted the previous week’s lesson, of the slides Alecto had shown them of muggles in hideous positions, their faces contorted into gormless grins. Pathetic creatures.

Draco gasped, his Dark Mark burned suddenly, the Dark Lord was angry again. His thoughts turned to his family – he hoped they were still safe. His mother had said nothing in her letter to suggest otherwise – but then again all their mail coming into Hogwarts was being intercepted before it was delivered. It was only a few weeks to go before the Christmas holidays – he hoped for the first time that he wouldn’t be going home. He knew what he would be expected to do and it scared him. Yes, he had put a brave face on it.

If only he could turn back time. What he wouldn’t give for a time turner, he would go back and convince the Draco of a year ago not to become a death eater, to run, leave the country and hide. Perhaps Dumbledore would still be alive and his life wouldn’t have become the nightmare he was living now. The ministry’s supply had been destroyed during the battle when his father was captured.

His father? How alike were they really? Yes, they looked alike. Draco had always tried to be like him – following his lead. Did he want out too? Had he been fearful of the Dark Lord returning? Had he reluctantly returned out of fear? Was he even more like his father than he ever realised?

“Draco?” Nott was saying. He had stopped. Draco stopped too and looked at Nott nervously. “Did you even hear me?”

“Sorry Theodore.” Draco said recovering quickly - putting his ‘Draco Malfoy – death eater’ mask back on. “I got distracted.”

“You okay?” Nott asked. He looked down at Draco’s left arm. Draco had clutched it as it had begun to burn. “The Dark Lord?”

Draco has relieved that he didn’t have to explain. Nott knew all about the Dark Mark, he was there when his own father had been called back to the Dark Lord’s side. He understood – the only one who did.

“Yes, he’s angry.” Draco explained, rubbing his arm, careful not to touch the mark.

Nott nodded. “Father told me that Potter’s still eluding him.”

Potter, Draco thought with a scowl. He nodded to Nott and carried on walking.
…………………………………………..
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Old 06-03-2011, 10:02 PM   #7 (permalink)
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
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First Year

Ministry RPG Name:
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You can quote, disagree with, glorify or vilify me But about the only thing you can't do is ignore me

-comes running in, panting-

Bloody Hell, I sprinting to keep up with you!

GO LUNA!

GO NEVILLE!

'bout time!

PAMS! But more slowly please!
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... PESSIMISTIC ... AMBITIOUS ... RECKLESS ...
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Old 06-03-2011, 10:36 PM   #8 (permalink)
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Seventh Year
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Ruby85 View Post
-comes running in, panting-

Bloody Hell, I sprinting to keep up with you!

GO LUNA!

GO NEVILLE!

'bout time!

PAMS! But more slowly please!
Hi Ruby85,

Neville and Luna are two of my favourites - Neville appears even more later on..

Sorry about the speed this one's coming out but i'm on a roll. Been working on this one for a few weeks before plucking up the courage to actually post it on-line - ekkk - I think you're right - I'd better slow down a little and add to the suspense? ....

There's plenty more to come - I hope you like this soo far??

______________________________________

Chapter six

That following week was almost incident free until Friday. Zabini still took every opportunity to rib Draco about the letters from home. Which seemed to arrive more frequently and still with no hint of whether they were safe, but Draco thought, whilst his mother wrote to him she must still be unharmed. At the end of each letter his father had added a comment and signed his name, their way of proving to their only son that they were still safe and well.

The first lesson of the morning was Ancient Runes; he had enjoyed this lesson the previous year, but had earned detention when he’d failed to hand in homework on several occasions – too busy with the task given to him by his master to complete it. He kept his head down, determined to not draw attention to himself.

And the second lesson of the morning was double transfiguration again. Draco turned up on time but McGonagall had found a reason to take more house points from him. He glared at her for the rest of the lesson whilst copying down notes from the blackboard.

At the end of the lesson McGonagall handed out homework assignments and told them to complete it by the next lesson. She hung around by his desk as she dropped the notes onto it. “…. And Mr Malfoy, I do expect this assignment to be completed, I don’t expect a repeat of last year.” She told him with a knowing glare.

Draco took the notes off his desk and stuffed them into his bag, which he slung over his back and stalked out of the room. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott followed him. They went to the great hall for lunch and out into the grounds, that afternoon it was their free periods.

Ahead of them stood a small group of Gryffindor first years – they looked up in terror at the seventh years – half of them turned and ran. Four remained rooted to the spot in terror. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott laughed and advanced. Draco hung back – trying to control his anger at McGonagall, Zabini and the others. The others drew their wands and pointed them at the frightened first years.

Goyle turned round to Draco, “What you waiting for?” they shouted at him, “let’s have some fun”.

Hesitantly Draco walked forward – level with them. He looked around checking they were not being watched – he smiled. There were no teachers in sight – Draco’s anger boiled away in his chest and buoyed by the lack of witnesses - he drew his wand with a flourish.

They all pointed their wands at the first years and began to fire curses at them. The first years yelled out as a mix of curses hit them, boils and puss exploded from their faces. Laughing, the Slytherins lifted the first years into the air. They spun them around and round. Their victims yelled and screamed, begging to be let go.

Crabbe and Goyle spun theirs faster and faster before finally letting them go. They both landed heavily on the ground – both screaming, one holding onto his arm as he rolled around on the floor in pain. Their tormentors laughed at their helpless victims. Draco and Nott’s victims still in the air, they too dropped the first years to the floor, they landed on their sides and tried dizzily to get back to their feet.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed out loud and turned to go. Draco and Nott followed them, the former looking back at the first years that still rolled on the floor. He smiled, putting his wand back into his robes and continued off into the grounds.
……………..

Draco ran his fingers along the engraved names in the old beech tree’s bark. They had engraved their names here in the first term – below their own father’s names and next to the names of other boys who had sat under the beech tree in their time at the school. He looked at one set of names and laughed “Messrs Wormtail, Mooney, Padfoot, and Prongs-” he told the others, “–what sort of names were they?”

The other three boys laughed the names. Draco dropped his school bag to the floor and joined the others in the shade of the large tree, the early winter sunshine shone through the tree and onto their parchment, giving it a mottled effect. Dark Art’s books were scattered around their feet as they worked on their homework. They lit small fires to guard against the cold as they worked.

Draco looked across to Crabbe, Goyle and Nott. He had never seen them so excited over a class, their quills worked feverishly. He looked down at his notes and smiled. Their Dark Arts assignment was a 24-inch parchment on the uses of unforgivable curses. Draco wrote quickly, remembering the lessons with his aunt, putting captured mudblood’s under the imperious curse at the mansion during his training. His smile died as he remembered being forced to torture Rowe during the summer. And the terror he had felt when the Dark Lord finally killed Rowe. The sight of the dead man’s body lying on its back. His blank, dead eyes stared up at the ceiling.

They sat there in silence the only sounds coming from the wind blowing through the trees, the light rush of water in the distance and the scratching of quill on parchment. Crabbe and Goyle wrote quickly – they had enthused about this essay since it was given out. The rest of the class had read the title in horror of course.

By the end of the second free period other students descended onto the grounds. There was a yell and a scream off in the distance and a lot of shouting. This drew the boys attention – they put down their parchment and quills for a moment. The noise was coming from where they had left the first years.

There was a loud bellow. “MALFOY!!” Draco turned and saw the oaf Hagrid, Professor’s McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn walking purposefully towards them. They hastily put their things away and stood. Draco lent against the tree, as he watched the teachers striding over, a disinterested look on his face. He yawned and put a scowl on his face as the teachers stepped up to where they stood.

McGonagall’s face was screwed up into a scowl too, Flitwick and Hagrid looked furious, Slughorn incredulous. “Explain yourself.” She demanded.

Draco matched her expression. “We’re doing our homework, Professor.” He said putting a snare into the last word. The other boys laughed.

“And does that homework involve torturing first years Mr Malfoy?” She demanded. A small knot of students nearby had stopped and watched the scene unfold.

“I don’t take your meaning professor.” Draco said folding his arms. The others laughed again and murmured something about dark arts homework and flying mudblood’s. Draco turned to them and gave them a warning look. They ignored him and still sniggered.

“Transfiguration is still not allowed as punishment Mr Malfoy." She seemed to increase in height for a moment. "But soon…”

Draco felt his guts contract.

“You four were SEEN torturing those poor students.” McGonagall said continuing, she pointed her finger at Draco and the others, her hand shaking.

“By whom?” Draco demanded.

They didn’t answer him. He glanced around at the others. Crabbe and Goyle grinned, Nott on the other hand looked petrified.

“They have been sent up to the hospital wing.” Flitwick said. "They’ll be away from lessons for at least a week!”

“Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott I’m disappointed in you all, very disappointed.” Slughorn said. “I’ve never been so ashamed of Slytherin House students in my entire career.”

Draco glared at the professor curling his lip into a sneer. How he loathed the old goat. The other Slytherin’s laughed heartily. Draco gave them a warning glance. He had avoided those Professors’s so far and now – Draco felt his stomach churning – he had a bad feeling about this.

“You four will serve a week’s detention each-“ she glanced at Draco with a hard look “-and Professor Snape won’t interfere this time Mr Malfoy!” McGonagall said peering down her nose at him – even though he now towered over her. He glared at her, not even trying to conceal his loathing of her.

“No indeed this is a Slytherin House matter,” Slughorn said as he turned to the four boys, ” detentions can be character forming.” He told them with a sharp look.

He turned to Professor McGonagall. “I will let you deal with these four however you see fit. Minerva.” Slughorn said. “The victims are from your house after all.”

“Thank you Horace.” She said to the other Professor. “Now let me see, Mr Nott will go with Professor Hagrid…”

Hagrid smiled, reached over and grabbed Nott’s shirt collar. “Come on Nott!” he said, and dragged him off. Nott struggled as Hagrid took him off towards the forbidden forest. “I ‘ave the ideal job fer yer. M’ Thestrals need feeding.” He was saying to Nott as he dragged him off. Nott yelled in protest, struggling against the half-giants firm grip.

“…. Mr Crabbe with Professor Flitwick, Mr Goyle will serve detention with you Professor Slughorn…” McGonagall continued, Crabbe and Goyle protested as they too were led off.

Draco turned to McGonagall and for a heart stopping moment Snape’s warning from the first day of term rang in his ears.

“….And you Mr Malfoy-“ she paused and looked down her nose at him through her spectacles. She held her hand out “-will give me your wand and come with me.”

Draco stood still and turned his attention to his friends as the other Professor’s began to walk back up to the castle and Hagrid towards the forbidden forest. Nott being dragged and Crabbe and Goyle following the other professors - protesting. He watched their departure for a heartbeat and turned back to Professor McGonagall and her outstretched hand.

All of a sudden he felt very alone, naked without his friends backing him up. He felt very hot and uncomfortable under her gaze. He fought against the panic and fear clawing at his chest.

McGonagall waited. “Mr Malfoy, your wand, NOW!” She said at last, “I will take it by force.” She continued with a crooked smile.

Draco looked around him; curious faces stared at him from all around. He raised a shaking hand to his robes and took out his hawthorn wand, he wasn’t foolish enough to try and fight her. Not here. He held his wand out, handle first and McGonagall took it.

She slid the wand into her robes “Now Mr Malfoy. Pick up your bag and follow me.” She spun and began to walk quickly back into the castle. Draco grabbed his bag from the ground and trudged on after her.

As they walked through the main entrance and on to the transfiguration corridor they passed stunned faces. Draco didn’t look up at them – his face burned – he meekly followed behind her – feeling thoroughly retched and wondering what she had in store for him.

He trudged on – his heart hammering in his ears. He had to half jog at times to keep up with her. McGonagall led him to her classroom. She held the door open and beckoned him inside. He walked in fearfully and heard the door lock behind him. He spun and looked at McGonagall – trying not to display on his face the fear he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was he after all who had let the Death Eater’s in – he was there when Dumbledore was killed – it was hardly a secret – rumour of what happened had been around the school for weeks.

He unconsciously went for his wand, his hand reached his empty pocket and he remembered that it had already been taken from him. He gulped and tried not to panic.

A deep dread fell over him – Potter was a favourite of hers and she was especially close to Dumbledore - and here he was alone with her. He gulped again wanting fresh air – she was a skilled witch – what chance did he have really? He backed away from her as she approached him.

She walked straight past him and towards her desk. She sat down at the desk behind reams of parchment. "Sit down, Mr Malfoy." She told him, studying him through her glasses.

Draco crept cautiously to his usual desk; McGonagall peered at him over her half-moon spectacles. "No, Malfoy – there…." she pointed at a desk facing her own.”…. Where I can keep an eye on you."

She took out her wand. Draco flinched. She flicked the wand and a long roll of parchment and a quill materialised on the desk she had indicated.

Cautious and uneasy he walked over to the desk and sat down. He dropped his school bag on the neighbouring chair. He looked up at her expectantly.

"You will do lines for me Mr Malfoy." She told him, turning to the piles of parchment on her desk and taking the quill from its inkpot. She took hold of a piece of parchment from the pile and began to scratch her quill on it, marking some student’s work, "I will expect the entire parchment to be used up before you leave.”

Stunned, but relieved Draco nodded. "What will you have me write?” he asked her trying to keep the fear out of his voice – willing his swiftly beating heart to slow down. Finally she looked up at him over her spectacles.

" ‘I will not bully or torture my fellow students and I must respect my teachers’, should do for starters.” She told him.

Draco picked the quill out of the ink well and rolled the parchment open – he groaned – the parchment rolled off over the desk and under the professors. It must have to be over 12 feet long – he pulled the parchment back onto the desk, a pile of it falling around his feet and not looking up at the professor he began to write.

Hours later he had finally reached the end of the long parchment. His wrist hurt from all that writing. He shook his arm – trying to shake some feeling back into it. His stomach growled at him – he’d not eaten since that lunchtime. He looked up at McGonagall who was still busy marking homework, reached into his bag and pulled out a green apple. He held it in his left hand and bit into it; he chewed and savoured it as it fought his hunger. He turned to the parchment and continued to write.

His eyes ached, he looked up at the clock – it was just after midnight. He put the quill back into the ink well and looked up at the professor. "I have finished professor.” he said wearily, rubbing his eyes. They itched with fatigue.

McGonagall rose and walked around the desk, standing behind him. Draco could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. "Really? Mr Malfoy?” She said picking up the parchment and looking over it. “This parchment is blank.”

Draco started; he swiftly rose to his feet and snatched the parchment from the professor. He looked at it in confusion, it was indeed empty. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO IT?” Draco demanded angrily glaring into her passive face.

He went to pull out his wand from his robes, but it wasn’t there. “You’ve given me invisible ink haven’t you!” forgetting himself and giving into the anger and panic mounting in him.

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME IN THAT WAY, MR MALFOY!” she yelled raising herself up to her full height. He stepped back from her, cowering and waiting for her to draw her wand.

"You will come back here tomorrow evening and do what I asked – DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” she shouted at him. Draco looked down at her; he shook with anger and frustration. Dis-armed as he was – he wanted nothing more at that moment than to draw his wand and strike her down.

"Yes, certainly, professor. " he growled instead.

“Good.” She said evenly. “I will see you in here at seven tomorrow evening and I will be keeping your wand for now, Mr Malfoy – you can collect it from me on Monday morning.”

He grabbed his school bag from the desk and stalked angrily out of the classroom.
……………………

The following evening at seven o’clock sharp Draco turned up at McGonagall’s classroom. He sheepishly knocked on the door. “Enter.” Came her voice.

Draco walked into her room. His heart hammering. He had spent the whole day waiting for this. He had kept away from the others and hid in the dormitories completing his homework in silence. Nott had wanted him to come up to the common room but he had declined. Zabini had been there; he couldn’t risk the other trying something whilst he was un-armed. Even breakfast, lunch and supper had passed with Draco keeping quiet and avoiding the others. When his owl arrived he had taken the letter and stuffed it into his pocket – not even reading it.

He had of course read the letter later, his mother spoke of mundane things, and she sent him love from her and his father. Draco has relieved as he read the letter – they were both still alive.

He sat down at the desk in front of McGonagall, the long parchment and a quill was set out for him again. He picked up the quill. “What will you have me write?” he asked quietly resolved to hours of pointless writing.

McGonagall rose from her chair, picked up a dog-eared book and walked over to Draco’s desk. She dropped the tome onto the desk. The dust of ages rose from the book and into Draco’s face. He coughed and fanned the dust from his face. He looked up at her.

“You will copy out this book, Mr Malfoy.” She said returning to her desk.

Draco looked down at the cover and read the title to himself. ‘Wizard Trials and the Wizard War, by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore’ - He groaned and picked up the book. On the front cover a younger looking Dumbledore looked up – he looked up at Draco with his sad eyes. Swallowing back the uneasiness he felt, Draco opened the book at the first page. He swallowed, aware of McGonagall’s eyes on him. He turned to the chapter list page – there on chapter ten was ‘Death eater Trials’. He turned to the first chapter and began to write.

Hours later, he had managed to finish the first two chapters. The parchment still half completed. He shook his arm - the feeling there gone again.

McGonagall looked up at her clock and over to him. “It is late, you may go now.” She said. “I will expect you back here tomorrow evening at seven.” She said.

Draco dropped the quill back into the ink well and stood. He closed the book and turned to leave.

“Mr Malfoy.” She said looking up from her marking.

“Yes, professor?” Draco said quietly, too exhausted to even sneer at her.

“You will continue to come here for detention until that book is finished.” She told him.

“Yes, professor.” He said simply and walked slowly out of her class and out into the transfiguration corridor. It was well after midnight. He trudged back to the Slytherin common room and dormitories. Once there he walked into silence. All the others were in bed as he walked down to his room. Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Zabini were asleep. He quietly undressed and put on his pyjamas. He was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.

The Dark Lord looked at him bemused. “You are my servant, Draco Malfoy, you will do as I say,” he said slowly.

Draco gulped. His wand hand shook. Fear gripped him – he looked around the room. The other Death Eaters sneered at him; he glanced at his father who nodded weakly at him….

He straightened. “Crucio.” He said, weakly. The curse not strong enough.

The Dark Lord looked at Draco passively and suddenly drew his wand and pointed it at him…”CRUCIO!!” he yelled. The curse hit Draco with such power that he fell to the floor, his wand falling from his hand and scattering across the floor and away from him.

He screamed in pain, his head feeling as though it would explode…

“NO…!” Draco shouted. He awake suddenly, sitting up in this bed and panting into the darkness, sweat bled down his face and the image of the Dark Lords face fading. He’d awaken the others and they too sat up and they glared at him in the darkness.

“Draco?” Nott said. “What is it?”

“Nothing!” Draco said and turned away from them. ‘Nothing’ he thought his mind racing – he lay there for the rest of the night willing sleep to come – but the Dark Mark burnt on his arm. He bit his tongue. Willing the dream and the pain to go. Sleep didn’t come.

The following day Draco had kept to the dormitories again, he only appeared at breakfast and supper. Again he went to Professor McGonagall’s office for the detention. He had remained silent – the dream still haunting him. ‘But it’s not a dream.’ he thought.

…………….

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Old 06-04-2011, 11:55 AM   #10 (permalink)
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This is great.
Thanks Harry174,

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______________________________________

Chapter Six

Monday morning and Draco awoke. He dressed and left before the others. He sat at the Slytherin tables and ate in silence; he nodded at Nott, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, but didn’t engage them in conversation.

He spotted movement in the corner of his eye. McGonagall stood there. She reached into her pocket and drew out his wand. The other Slytherin’s and the neighbouring Gryffindor’s watched. “As Promised Mr Malfoy, I am returning your wand.”

Draco took his wand without a word and put it safely in his robes. Eyes glared at him from all directions. He felt his pale cheek flushing pink and tried to suppress the mounting embarrassment and anger he felt. He stood and strode out of the great hall and off to the boy’s bathroom. He looked around, he was alone. He dumped his bag on the floor and ran the tap; he threw water over his face. He quivered and shook. The anger and frustration overwhelming him, he fought the tears, as before but they came easily to his eyes.

“Oh hello, didn’t think I’d see you again” came a familiar voice. He turned wiping tears from his aching eyes. There looking down at him with her large eyes was Moaning Myrtle. He looked up at her.

“Really?” He said through his tear sodden eyes. Myrtle glided over and looked up at him.

“Oh yes, I heard what you did!” she said, her voice full of sorrow.

“And what was that exactly?” he sneered at the ghost. His anger rising again.

“You let killers into the school. The headmaster was murdered and it’s all your fault!” she said gleefully. “You can kill yourself now and stay here with me.”

Draco started and backed away from her. He thought briefly about the year before. In his despair he had thought about throwing himself from the Astronomy tower. His love for his family had stopped him in the end. “Leave me alone.” He drew his wand.

“Oh. Are you going to kill me?” she laughed.

Draco looked up at the ghost, shaking he slid to the floor. He wrapped his head in his hands and raised his knees to his chest. The tears already at his eyes leapt forth, the misery of the last few weeks consumed him. His body shook with silent tears – at last letting the anger, frustration and pain out. He howled in frustration and anger at himself.

Draco left the bathroom a long while later. He had dried his eyes and threw water on his face. He looked in the mirror and was satisfied that anyone looking at him couldn’t tell he’d been crying he trudged off to his first lesson.

The corridors were almost deserted; few stragglers lurked or rushed onto their lessons. He looked at his watch, realising that he was almost ten minutes late for Transfiguration. He swore and sped up to a run. Only that morning the common room notice board had got a new notice pinned to it. They had gathered to read it – Snape had given the go ahead for Transfiguration to be used as a punishment.

After what had felt like an age he had reached the transfiguration corridor. He skidded to a stop outside of the door panting heavily. Hot from the sprint he tore off his school robe and jumper and stuffed them in his bag. He began to roll up his shirtsleeves and stopped – for a moment he had forgotten. He rolled his left sleeve back down, he paused for another few moments to catch his breath and he knocked and then pushed the door open. Professor McGonagall smiled as he entered the room. All eyes in the class on him. He swallowed. He stopped - a bad feeling falling over him.

"Mr Malfoy, thank you for gracing us with your presence." She said. “I have just been explaining to the class that in this lesson we will be learning more about human transfiguration."

Draco looked on at the professor as he walked into the classroom. He dropped his bag to the floor next to his desk and sat down. McGonagall was watching him the whole time. She smiled and looked down her hooked nose at him, "I have already told the class that any late comers will be the first to help me with the demonstration." She said in a jovial manner as she raised her wand.

Draco was reaching into his bag for his parchments and quill. The professors words ringing in his ears – he stopped and looked up at her.

“Come here Mr Malfoy." She told him. He gulped and rose slowly from his chair.

He had expected this and did as he was bidden. He looked briefly at Crabbe and Goyle who made no attempt to help him. Excited murmurs and laugher rang out as he walked to the front of the class. He stood there and folded his arms; he looked down at a piece of fluff on his sleeve. He was aware of the eyes of the whole class on him – he didn’t look up but instead picked the fluff off his sleeve and dropped it to the floor.

McGonagall addressed the class. “Now, human transfiguration is very difficult to master.” she was saying. Draco’s face burned with a mixture of anger and fear. The professor pointed her wand at him. “Of course turning someone into an animal is one of the easier…” she turned and said the enchantment. There was a flash of light and he felt like he was being squeezed and pulled. The room whirled around him.

He shook, confused not knowing where he was for a moment. He stood on the floor looking up at the class, high above him. They were laughing. He tried to run but an invisible force took hold of him and lifted him into the air. Someone grasped his neck and he struggled against the grip.

McGonagall was talking. Draco struggled on, looking out at the class in fear. They laughed and pointed. He screamed to be let go but his voice only came out as a loud squeal. Then he was dropped, landing heavily in a cage. The cage door shut trapping him inside. He scrambled at the bars, his small, clawed, furry white feet frantic.

Laughter broke out again in the class. Draco climbed the bars and tried to chew through them. The bars did not yield. Frantic and scared he climbed back down the bars; scared he curled up into a ball. He watched the rest of the lesson from his vantage point on McGonagall’s desk – now forgotten.

After what had seemed like an age the professor freed him in front of the class who laughed. Even Crabbe and Goyle. Draco clambered to his feet looking around, getting his bearings. "You’ll pay for this,” he shouted at her, embarrassment and humiliation clawing at his chest. He ran, grabbed his bag and tore out of the class and off into the crowded corridor.

He didn’t stop running until he was far away down the corridor. He finally stopped and stood panting. His heart thudded and blood rushed through his ears.

He looked around him, where was he? He smiled with recognition – the 7th floor corridor. He reached for his wand and scanned up and down the corridor – it was deserted. He walked slowly to the wall where the door to the room of requirement opened and closed his eyes. He opened his eyes; a pair of large oak doors appeared before him. He grinned, and entered the room.

He hid in the room for what must have been hours. The embarrassment of what had happened consumed him – he flushed with embarrassment but then the anger rose up again. He picked up the nearest object, an old broken broom and began to smash it into the objects around him. It felt good releasing his anger, he turned and saw his reflection in a mirror. He turned towards it and swung the broom handle at it. The glass smashed and crashed to the floor.

Draco threw the broom handle away, he did feel better now – he stalked off back towards the oak doors and out into the corridor.

…………………..

It was only days from the Christmas holidays and Draco had thought long and hard about going home. He missed his parents greatly and had worried about them each day. But, then he remembered who was using their home as death eater headquarters. Blaize and his cohorts were staying, as were most of the Gryffindor’s. Safer here than out there? But would he be safer at home, would the Dark Lord want him to torture and maim for him again? But would the Gryffindor’s try and kill him in revenge for Dumbledore’s death? Draco’s brain ached.

The decision was taken out of his hands the following morning. His mother wrote to tell him to come home.

In the entrance hall he waited with his bags and eagle owl – he would normally let the owl fly home – but he was injured. The owl had been attacked in the owlery – his feathers stuck out at angles, had been broken. Professor Grubbly-Plank had finally repaired the bird’s wing – but the owl was still too weak to fly back to the Manor house.

There were few others who were going home for the holidays. He heard hurried footsteps behind him. Professor Snape descended the staircase in his travelling clothes. He stopped at bottom of the stairs and stood at Draco’s side. “Evening Draco.”

“Evening professor.” he replied simply.

Snape walked on. “I expect to see you on the train Draco.”


The Hogwarts express bellowed smoke as Draco climbed aboard. There were fewer carriages than usual, perhaps more staying in the safety of Hogwarts than ever before.

Many of the carriages were already full. He crept down the train looking for an empty stall. He opened the door on one stall and came face to face with Snape. He backed out. “Draco, come here.” Snape said. Draco stopped and walked into the stall – the door behind him closed with a bang. Startled Draco turned to the door. “Sit down Mr Malfoy. “ he drawled. Draco turned to Snape and sat.

“How was your detention with the Carrows?” Snape said a dark smile forming at his lips.

Draco looked up to him. Whilst hidden in the room of requirement he had missed Alecto Carrow’s Muggle Studies class, she had given him detention. He shuddered. Death eater or not they had used the Crucio curse on him.

The Dark Lord had tortured him, he had known what to expect. But nothing had prepared him for the two boys they had brought in to continue the torture. Crabbe and Goyle had looked down at him laughing before launching the curse at him.

By the end of over an hour he had laid on the floor, curled into a ball, panting heavily, tear-streaked eyes glaring at them all. Hatred and anger burning, he was sure that at that moment he could have easily killed them all – if only he had his wand.


“It was nothing, I have been tortured by the Dark Lord.” Draco said evenly. Trying to keep his voice from breaking at the memory – still vivid.

“Draco, the Dark Lord was merely playing with you. As a cat does with a mouse.” Snape told him. “If he wanted to he could have you begging him to let you kill your mother – only if he was to stop.”

Draco looked up at him. It was now or never. “What did Greyback mean when he said my father didn’t have the stomach for it, either?” he asked him finally.

Snape looked up at him.

Suddenly embarrassed, feeling like that little Slytherin first year, walking into the Great Hall for the first time, overwhelmed, confused, scared but trusting - knowing nothing, trusting his up bringing, faithful to his father’s ideals, sure that a pureblood was superior to all others. But was he really the man he thought he was?

“What was the ‘it’ he didn’t have the stomach for?” he asked.

Snape looked at Draco, his face softened. “Your father ran straight to the ministry when the Dark Lord fell. He convinced them that he was under the imperious curse.”

“I already know all that!” Draco told him, ill-disguised venom in his voice.

“Lucius, enjoyed torturing muggles, being in a gang but when the Dark Lord started to ask more of him – he wanted out.” Snape told him. “Potter did him a favour.”

Draco looked away from Snape; he absently spun the house ring around his finger. They sat there in silence for the rest of the journey to London. Draco wanted nothing more than the journey to be over, so he could be away from Snape. He imagined his room, his safe sanctuary from the mess he had got himself into.

Draco hid behind his Advanced Transfiguration book – he had read the chapter on conjuration over and over again. He enjoyed his subject, not that his fellow students could cast these spells. Oh no.

Draco had sat back on his chair during the first of McGonagall’s conjuring lessons, he had yawned and easily conjured a python, the snake wrapped itself happily over Draco’s’ shoulders and he sat stroking it and talking to it through out the lesson – whilst the others continued to struggle to conjure more than a quill.

McGonagall had looked over to him. She couldn’t dock him points for a successful conjuration – he had after all produced a perfectly good snake back in his second year. That snake had tried to attack the Finch-Finchly boy, but only after Potter had spoke Parsel-tougue at it. The whole school had assumed that Potter was the heir of Slytherin. Rubbish of course – the real heir was the Dark Lord. And he wanted the school back.
………………….

The train arrived in London just after midnight. Two figures waited for Draco in the darkness. He took his bag from the rack above his head and headed towards the exit. He stepped out onto the platform towards his mother and father – she looked tired and his father dishevelled and unshaven. His mother held out her arms to him. Tempted to submit to her hug he reminded himself who else was on the train. Instead he walked off towards the exit from platform nine and three quarters, his mother and father trotting after him to keep up.

They walked with him out of the station. He remained silent until they had reached the alley behind the station. Here his mother and father stopped and turned to him. “Draco, what is it?” his mother asked him cautiously.

Draco ignored her. “Let’s get this over and done with shall we?” he said drawing his wand and apparating into black mist. He re-appeared outside the Manor, opened his owl’s cage, letting the bird free. He stopped for a moment watching as the bird flew of. Free, free! He envied the bird as he flew out of sight.

It was dark and several white peacocks strutted about the lawn, undisturbed by the flight of the owl and then, his mother and father who appeared at his side.

He ignored them both and strode off into the house. He walked up the staircase, down the corridor to the last door on the left. He stopped there, hesitated – looking at the faded hand written sign ‘Draco’s room – do not enter – No house elf’s.’

He smiled at the childish scrawl; written shortly after returning from his first year at Hogwarts. He pushed the door open, walked inside and dropped his bag to the floor. He walked through the darkness to his bed and threw himself onto it.
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Old 06-06-2011, 06:57 PM   #13 (permalink)
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Shrike Malfoy
Seventh Year
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Thanks for staying with me soo far.....This is about half way through now...

Enjoy...

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Chapter Seven

Next morning Draco was awoken by winter sunshine streaming through the room’s only window. He opened his eyes and blinked. He lay on his back – still in his clothes – he looked up to the ceiling at the weird sister’s posters he had stuck there three years ago with a permanent sticking charm. Next to them a dragon strut around the poster, breathing fire and lifting itself into the fake sky. Draco sighed wishing for a moment that he could fly away like his namesake.

He sat up and stretched. He looked across at the mirror hanging on the wall. A young man stared back at him, this pale face tinged with grey, his white-blond hair messy and unkempt. His suit creased. He rubbed his eyes and stood up. He pulled off his clothes and walked into his bathroom.

He stood under the shower for several minutes, the warm water cascaded down his pale flesh, soothing aching muscles, cleansing his skin and refreshing his brain. He got out of the shower a few minutes later – he dried himself and walked back into his room.

He looked in his wardrobe. Besides his old quidditch robes and school uniform – it was full of row after row of muggle suits in various shades of black and grey. His father had insisted that if he were to dress in muggle clothes they would have to come from the best tailors on Saville Row.

He smiled – his wardrobe was worth more then Weasley’s whole house. His smile died as he remembered flying through the air around the house blasting it with fire – he had accompanied Aunt Bella, Greyback and the others that day – a fully fledged death eater.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, Draco dressed, crept down the hall way and down the staircase. The house was surprisingly silent. He heard hushed whispers from the drawing room.

"He should have been allowed to stay at the school." His mother was saying.

"He couldn’t. The Dark Lord insisted,…" his father replied.

He had heard enough and crept away from the door and off into the bowels of the house. He stopped at a small door behind a statue of one of his ancestors. He pushed the door open and walked through it and down into the kitchens.

The female house elf there greeted him. Draco sat down at a small table and looked out of the small grimy windows, out into the grounds. The elf put a breakfast out in front of Draco moments later. Toast, jam, cereals, bacon, sausages, eggs, fried bread tomatoes and juice. He picked up the cutlery and began to eat hungrily.

The elf took his empty bowls and plate away and put a steaming mug of brown liquid down in front of him. This was the reason he always took breakfast down here. He took hold of the mug and downed the contents, the coarse sludge rolled down his throat. Coffee was its name. A muggle drink he had been introduced to by other half-blood Slytherin's and this was his dirty little secret.

He left the kitchen and the Manor house by the back door. He’d thrown on his winter coat and travelling cloak and strode down to the broom sheds. Inside, chained up to the wall stood his Nimbus 2001 racing broom. He unlocked the chain and took hold of the broom, taking it outside.

He climbed on and kicked off. The broom climbed and within seconds he was high in the sky. He roared with pleasure at the freedom of it. He sped over snow-covered fields, forests, houses and towns. He rolled the broom and put it into tight turns, revelling in it’s precision and speed. He didn’t want to stop; in fact he could have carried on forever, not looking back, away from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.

It wasn’t long until London came into sight. Draco smiled – he swooped down into Knockturn Alley and up to number 24, his family’s apartment. He left his broom and travelling cloak inside, picked up a roll of muggle money left on the mantle piece for ‘emergencies’ and walked out of the apartment. Down through Knockturn Alley and on towards Diagon Alley, out through the Leaky Cauldron and then on into London.

He stalked around London for several hours, alone with his thoughts at last, revelling in the solitude. He passed hurrying muggles, they didn’t know who he was, what he had done. They know nothing of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. He walked on, his hands in his pockets. His hand curled around the roll of muggle money. He stopped and looked around spotting a café. He looked around, turned and walked into the café.


He sat there coffee in his right hand and sandwich in his left, he rested his elbow on his book. He had tucked the book into his coat pocket before he left. Advanced Transfiguration – he had read the conjuration chapter again and again.

The café was warm; it was also deserted – all except the one waitress. She watched him smiling. He had taken off his coat and jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

Draco looked at the waitress out of the corner of his eye, he assumed she was about his age, dressed in black, her t-shirt displaying a band he’d never have heard of, they stood still on the fabric. She had long black and purple hair and wore an assortment of tattoos up her arms.

She picked up a jug of coffee and walked over to him. "Want a refill?" she asked. Draco glanced up at her and nodded. She refilled his mug and sat in the seat opposite him. "Haven’t seen you in here before." She told him.

Draco looked up from his book. "It’s my first time in here." He told her with a smile.

" You look like you could do with some company." The waitress said brightly. "I’m Alice by the way." She held out her left hand.

Draco flinched. He let out a snort of laughter.

"Well if you’d rather be alone?" Alice said standing and turning away.

"No wait!" Draco said, startling himself at the earnest sound of this voice. "I’m sorry," he said his voice shaking. "Please sit down." He sat still, shocked at his words. ‘She’s a muggle’, he chastised himself.

Alice sat back down opposite him and held out her hand again. Draco put down his sandwich and shook her hand. "I’m Draco." He told her.

Alice grabbed his arm suddenly and looked down at his Dark Mark. "Cool Tattoo!” she said smiling.

Draco pulled his arm away from her. She stared at him, a look of confusion on her face. "I’m sorry," she said nervously, her cheeks turning scarlet. "It’s just what I kinda have a few myself." She smiled and flushed again.

Draco couldn’t stop himself smiling either. She was a muggle he reminded himself, stupid, pathetic creatures – he looked at her again – she didn’t seem so different from him really.

Besides, she didn’t know the mark was, hadn’t heard of Death Eaters, the Dark Lord or Harry, Bloody Potter. He took a sip of his drink. It had been so long since he had spoken to someone, even Nott, he couldn’t speak to his friend without the fear that it would get back to the dark lord.

"So what you running from?" she asked him suddenly.

Draco looked up at her startled and nearly spat out his coffee. "I…err what do you mean?" he asked, wiping coffee spittle off his chin.

"Well, posh guys, private school types like you don’t often wonder around this part of London." She told him. "You skiving off school?" she asked with a glint in her eye. "Or running from your folks?"

He looked at her confused. Was she a witch? Did she really know who he was?

She had evidently caught his confused look. "Your suit gave you away, Saville Row right?"

He stopped eating for moment and looked up at her and nodded. "Yes, father insists that I wear only the best." He bragged.

"Very nice, can’t beat a good-looking guy in a sharp suit" She replied dreamily looking him up and down with a glint in her eye.

"You’re flirting with me?" Draco asked, his ego flattered but also a little stunned. He turned back to his food.

"Don’t you want me to? It’s all part of the service." She told him. She put her elbow on the table on cradled her chin on her hand. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Conscious, of her eyes on him he looked up.

"I also make a very good listener," she said. She put her other elbow on the table and cradled her face in both hands. "You look like someone who needs to get something off his chest."

Draco sighed. Put the sandwich down and pushed it away and turned to face Alice. "I got mixed up in something-" he said choosing his words carefully, "-now I can’t get out of it." He ran his fingers through his white blond hair; what was up with him? Draco! Muggle! His brain screamed at him. He ignored it; it felt good finally admitting it.

"So that’s a tag?" Alice asked sadly, looking at the Dark Mark again.

Draco thought for a moment. "Something like that." He replied.

"What we talking here?" she asked. "Drugs?" Draco shook his head. "A gang?"

Draco looked up at her. "I’ve said too much already."

"I’m sorry." Alice said. "My uncle was mixed up with a gang too, they wanted him to kill someone…" a tear formed at her eye and she wiped it away with her hand. "…He couldn’t do it…and they killed him."

Draco looked up at the muggle. It was hardly the same, if she knew about the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Draco shuddered. He’d said too much, and he was talking to a muggle. If the Dark Lord knew - he waited for the Dark Mark to burn. It hadn’t burnt since he’d left the mansion.

"And you haven’t been asked to kill anyone have you?" Alice asked him. "Is that what you’re running from?"

Draco closed his eyes and his thoughts turned to August and to Rowle.

Only the fire lit the drawing room at Malfoy Mansion, the long table had been moved and the giant blond Death Eater lay on the floor screaming and writhing. The Dark Lord stood close, Draco’s outstretched wand arm shuck violently. He hadn’t been able to do it at first – but the terror of knowing the Dark Lord would turn the curse on him was all he needed to spur him on.

The Dark Lord spoke in a high, cold, merciless voice. "More, Rowle, or shall we end it and feed you to Nagini? Lord Voldemort is not sure that he will forgive this time.... You called me back for this, to tell me that Harry Potter has escaped again? Draco, give Rowe another taste of our displeasure.... Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!”

Draco legs were shaking as he aimed his wand again. Sure that the Dark Lord could see the terror he felt in his eyes, Draco turned away from the Dark Lord. "CRUCIO!" he screamed again.

Draco felt sick, the terror he always felt in Voldemort’s company heightened even now.

"No!" he replied quietly. "I’m not running from anything. I can’t – he’ll find me." He looked down at his food, his appetite almost gone. " He’ll kill my family!” He reached over and took hold of the green apple from his plate and bit into it. He tore a piece of flesh from the apple and chewed it noisily.

He glanced at Alice. She sat there smiling. A genuine smile – her eyes sparkled. Draco remained silent for a moment. Unnerved.

"Why did you join?” Alice asked.

Draco looked up at her; he lazily plucked at his left sleeve.

"I wanted revenge against someone.” Draco said. "And they offered me that…."

Alice nodded politely.

"…He put my father in Azk-" he stopped, "-in prison. They needed someone to take his place-"

"Maybe it’s not too late to…"

"…It’s already too late." Draco said holding his head in his hands.

"Draco, no matter what’s happened or what you have or haven’t done" Alice said taking hold of his hand and looking into his grey eyes. Draco started. "It’s never too late to do the right thing."

She stood and turned to leave.

Draco sat back, thinking about what the muggle had said. "Don’t go.” he said his voice cracking.

"I have to Draco Malfoy" She replied. "I have a job to do.” She stood, picked up the jug and walked off back to the counter and out into the back of the café.

Draco stopped and looked up at her, he hadn’t given her his last name. His mind buzzed. He finished his coffee and stood, he put his jacket and coat back on and slid his book back into his pocket. He turned towards where Alice had fled; ready to say goodbye but she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and left the café.

He trudged up the high street towards the Leaky Cauldron. Thinking about the muggle (?) and what she had said to him. Confused. He was tempted to stay in London at the family apartment that night but as he walked the Dark Mark began to burn. The Dark Lord was called his Death Eaters to him. Draco cursed, and sped up to a run.

He ran through the streets, knocking aside muggles as he ran on at a full sprint. The Dark Mark burnt hotter as he ran on through the Leaky Cauldron, up Diagon Alley and knocked witches and wizards aside as he ran down into Knockturn Alley. He quickly opened the doors to the apartment and ran in, he doubled over panting hard.

He hastily threw on his travelling cloak and picked up his broom. He walked over to the fireplace, lit a fire in the grate and grabbed a hand full of floo powder throwing it into the flames.

He appeared back into the hall at Malfoy Manor. He threw his things down in the hall and went into the drawing room.

He was still panting heavily as he opened the door and walked in. He was the last one to arrive. Silent faces turned to him as he entered the room. His mother and father looked terrified. Draco couldn’t see the Dark Lord and walked further into the room. The door closed behind him.

“Ahhh! Draco.” Came a hissing voice from behind him.

Draco slowly turned and his eyes came to rest on his master. The dark lord’s snake like face smiled. His heart rate sped up; he tried to keep the raising panic at bay. Did he know where Draco had been? He was frozen to the spot by fear. He fell to his knees.

The Dark Lord raised his wand. "Where have you been?" he asked slowly.

Draco glared up at the wand, feeling the blood draining from his already pale face.

“You didn’t come back to me straight away when I called you.” The Dark Lord said with an edge in his voice. He pointed his wand straight at Draco.

“. My lord….” His mother called weakly, before a glance from the Dark Lord silenced her. The Dark Lord grinned and sent a stream of green light towards Draco, the force of the blast threw him backwards and onto the floor, he screamed. The scream echoed in his ears, the pain was threatening to make his brain explode. His mother was screaming too.


After what had seemed like an age the Dark Lord stopped. Draco lay on the floor in agony, every muscle and nerve ending burning with pain. He curled up into a ball, his breath heavy in his ears. He tried to keep his tears at bay as the Dark Lord walked away and sat at the table.

Once the meeting was over, his mother and father helped him up to feet. "Where have you been Draco?" he demanded.

"London," Draco replied weakly. "I wanted to fly, I haven’t had the chance for months." He lied – his voice shaking.

His father led him to a chair by the fireplace and sat him down roughly. He knelt in front of Draco and looked into his son’s eyes with his own grey ones. Draco hadn’t seen his father up close since he had arrived back. He looked tired; his eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. "You must be careful, Draco." He drawled. "This isn’t a game, you can’t throw your pieces back in when you’ve had enough." He said quietly.

Draco looked up at his father. He saw his own terror reflected in his face.

Shortly after, Draco trudged up to his room at the back of the house. The following day was Christmas day. He looked though the window at the grounds and night sky beyond. Not that they would be celebrating, the Dark Lord had forbidden the Malfoy’s from decorating their home.

The holidays seemed to last forever. Draco remained in his room for much of it – his thoughts haunting his waking hours and his sleep.

Finally, the Dark Lord had gone off for a couple of days. Bella mopped in her room, waiting for his return. Draco’s parents had taken the opportunity to have a small celebration in the kitchens. They ate, drank, exchanged gifts and for a few hours the Death Eaters, Dark Lord and Potter were all forgotten.
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Old 06-07-2011, 04:15 PM   #14 (permalink)
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Old 08-20-2011, 04:10 AM   #15 (permalink)
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