Hermione and Draco, a Forbidden Fantasy (Dramione) - Completed

Draco's Story

I didn’t have a say in it, I was expendable to him. If I put a foot out of line he could dispose of me like I was nothing. To him I was nothing.

It felt like I wasn’t anything to anyone. Nothing but a pawn in their sadistic game of wizard’s chess where he was the black king, and Potter was the white.

I was just another face in the sea of Death Eaters, except everyone at school knew what I had done and who I was allied with. The Slytherins respected me, most of them had parents involved in it all anyway. Everyone else would curse me as soon as look at me.

Even coming back this year I got looks of derision, hatred, disgust, and all other emotions in between. It was debilitating to live like that.

But that’s too far forward, I’ve missed too much.

I had just lost Goyle, he had been my friend for seven years. I suppose this was the first thing that made me want to stand up for something different. It was what made me think that I should be doing what I thought was right.

The truth was that I loved it at Hogwarts. As much as Dumbledore favoured Potter and the rest of them and as angry and bitter as I acted I really did enjoy it there. That is until sixth year when it all changed. I couldn’t just get through school and try to think about what I wanted to do when it was over. I had a job to do, and that job was to betray everyone within its walls.

After that, Hogwarts was never the same. How could it be?

There was a lull in the battle, I sort of wandered around the castle, avoiding glares and watching as people mourned their dead. It all came crushing down on me, I know that it all started when I let them in through the cabinets the year before. Maybe he would have found a way in without me, but I had a hand in it. There was blood on my hands. Hands, arms, I was practically drowning in it.

Maybe that wasn’t as true as I thought it was, but there was no denying that some of this was my fault.

I wandered in the shadows looking at all of the damage I had done. When they finally emerged from the forest, and they thought Potter was dead, I tried to be strong. I tried to stand on the right side of the fight but my father was calling out to me.

They were all I knew, I had to go with them. Maybe it made me a coward to everyone else, maybe it made me pathetic, but I couldn’t just stand there. I was too afraid that they would disown me and I would be stuck with nowhere to turn, or that he would kill me and then nothing would matter anymore.

So I walked out of the crowd and over to where he stood. I almost couldn’t stand to have him touch me. I could feel the mark on my arm humming as his hands gave my shoulders a meek squeeze. It made me feel ill in my stomach.

When he released me I didn’t turn back to look at the smouldering castle walls, I could feel the hot stares on the back of my neck. They hated me, they all hated me.

My mother took my wrist with a death grip and pulled me through the crowd of death eaters. until we were walking away from it all.