The Longest Lesson to learn: A Harry/Draco Story

Chap. 2

Dracos pov

a train filled with students ran along a train track through the 

country, passing trees and lakes and big grassy rolling hills. Inside 

the train, in a empty booth sat a boy with platinum blonde hair 

falling over silver blue eyes and pale skin

The boy was Draco Malfoy 

18 year old Draco sat On the train to Hogwarts, sitting with the door 

closed in the empty train room he was glad to be leaving Malfoy manor,  

away from his father who loved him as much as someone loves their own 

reflection and that made Draco hate him, hated that he looked like him  

and walked like him. His middle name 'Morbius ' was his father’s own  

personal way of toughening him up and when he asked his parents why  

they named him something that sounded like it meant Morbid his father  

replied

"it's a sodden hard world out there, Draco, best you get used  

to it now."

He looked out the window and took in how the world beyond looked cold 

and desolate, the green pastors and trees were tinged with snow powder  

and frozen dew clung to the window pane. He wondered what it would  

feel like to be on the other side, out beyond the grass and freezing  

air that bits your cheeks and fingers raw with cold.

Draco often wondered what it would be like to die, preferably out in  

the snow, he liked the snow because he felt cold on the inside as  

well, cold and desolate and empty of anything human or happy. That  died away when he was still young.

He was bent over a letter, eyebrows furrowed and breath hitched  

from terror and panic. The letter was from the dark lord asking Draco,  

no, demanding Draco to attained the young death eaters training camp. 

Draco just shook his head with every word he read. He had gotten it  that morning at breakfast, his great black owl flew through the window  and dropped a manila envelope on his plate of toast with eggs, Draco picked it up. His name was written in slanted cursive, the " D" was  curled and fancy but something about the handwriting made him freeze, he recognized the writing, he turned it over and noticed the black wax  seal stamped with a "V". He now sat in his train booth with the  letter, his fingers clenched as he reread it for the fifth time that  day, 

" My dear Draco,

I do believe it is time for you to come join the  young death eaters in training.

I know you've been avoiding joining  

and have delayed coming to see me and pledge you undying devotion to  

your dark lord but I think it's high time we made a man out of you,  

you can't escape what is your destiny, Draco.

You know what will  happen if you refuse me for the last time...

I've been far to kind,  maybe out of kindness to your parents who have been loyal servants to me but my patience with them, also with you, has been worn thin. I hope to  see you by winter break.

You’re Dark Lord, Voldemort"

Draco’s teardrops fell down his face and wet the edges of the thick creamy  

paper. "I thought I had more time, I thought I could avoid him for a  

while longer.”

 Draco had avoided joining, the past three times he was 

sent a letter he wrote back saying he wasn't ready, not yet maybe  

soon, but every refused letter was returned with an angrier letter,  

one with force and threats but alas Draco found ways to evade him but 

finally Voldemort was fed up and gave Draco an ultimatum, join or he  

kill his parents. And as much as he hated his father he loved his  

mother and couldn't stand the thought of losing her... He looked out  

the window at his reflection. 

"It’s hopeless."