Something Golden

50.

June 5 1997

30 days. 30 days until death eaters invade Hogwarts and I am to execute Dumbledore. 30 days until Granger and I are forced to go our separate ways. It's real, this is all really happening and I only have myself to blame for it. I'm the one who mended the cabinet, who provided them with a way to enter school grounds. I'm the one who has already secured the cooperation of both the muggle and wizard minister.

There's been more talks of Potter lately. Voldemort is obsessed with full purity of the world but not nearly as obsessed as he is with killing Potter. He knows about Weasley, he knows about Granger and he has no problem using either of them as a way to get to him. Weasley can die for all I care, Potter too but I will never let him lay a finger on Granger.

I've told her everything that I know. The horcruxes, cabinet, the day everything is going to happen, even about Dumbledore. She still doesn't believe that I'll do it, she's wrong. I have no choice, I have to. If I don't then he'll kill me and someone else will be enlisted to do it. I'll kill whoever I need to in order to stay alive. I can't very well protect her if I'm dead.

Weaslette is far too excited to get her hands dirty, says she can't wait to bury her knife into a death eater.

"Just as long as it's not me." I tell her.

"How am I supposed to differentiate?"

"Easy, I'll be the only one not trying to kill you dipshit."

"You're in a mood." She scoffs.

"I'm not in a mood."

"You most certainly are, have been for a few days now. What's got you even more intolerable than usual?"

I don't respond. Instead, I harshly stab into my eggs with my fork.

"I'm not Hermione you know." She says.

"Really? What a fucking revelation."

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm not Hermione, which means you don't have to pretend around me." Freckles reaches across the table and grabs my hand, halting the murder of my eggs. "It's okay to be worried, scared even. It doesn't make you any less of a man. Being human isn't a weakness Draco."

That's where she's wrong. I can't allow myself to feel any of those things. Am I worried about Granger? Fuck yeah I am but I can't let it get to me. Just like everything else, I have to lock it away, secure it behind countless brick walls and never let it out.

Pulling my hand away from hers I say "Please don't touch me again, it was by far the worst thing I've ever experienced and I've been cruciod."

June 17 1997

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Voldemort has a file on Granger. He knows that she's a muggle-born. He knows where her parents live. He fucking knows all about her and it's taking everything in me to remain composed right now. Yaxley is proposing we kidnap her parents, use them as leverage to lure her out which would eventually get Potter as well.

My jaw is tense and my hand is gripping tightly onto the armrest of my chair. All I want to do right now is reach across this table and rip Yaxley's throat out.

"It would be an easy task." Yaxley says. "They're muggles and I highly doubt they will put up a fight. We get them then we get the girl and then the boy is sure to follow."

Voldemort praises him and immediately signs off on it and since it was Yaxley's idea he gets to put together a team and execute the plan himself. I have to tell Granger, she's going to lose her mind.