I stood outside Number 12, Grimmauld Place wondering if I could possibly force myself to walk in. Could I, Draco Malfoy, a pureblood against Mudbloods and blood traitors, possibly walk in? But I had no place to go. Anywhere was better than where I’d been. Even perfect Potter had believed that.
I tried to smirk about Potter, but I realized that I couldn’t anymore. A year ago I would have never even considered getting help from the Order of the Phoenix, but I had changed in that short amount of time.
I never failed to be surprised that I wasn’t dead. Snape, my mother, and Aunt Bella had begged the Dark Lord to do anything but kill me.
He didn’t exactly kill me; he just sentenced me to death.
He said he had another mission for me--one that he knew I would fail. For some reason that had scared me more than when he gave me the task to kill Dumbledore. I knew now that he wanted me to die on the mission--that having me die this way would be more amusing for him than just using the killing curse.
“Find Potter,” the Dark Lord whispered, “and bring him to me.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if he had yelled it; for a second I forgot everything. Harry Potter was surrounded by the Order day and night as far as I knew. If I were him I wouldn’t have stepped onto the streets. Still, Potter was so damned heroic he was probably plotting the downfall of the greatest wizard who ever lived--I didn’t believe at the time that Potter would ever achieve that. Now the Dark Lord decided to send me. I was sure to die. Everyone in the Order knew I had tried to kill Dumbledore.
Just then I realised that I had been staring blankly for about a minute, so I asked, even though I fully knew I would die, “How?”
He laughed. Had I really expected him to answer? All he told me was, “Find a way or die.”
As I started to walk away, I heard his voice speak softly from behind me, “You will fail. You will die.”
I never looked back. Before I knew it, Bella, Snape and I were looking anywhere Potter might be. Soon Snape got the idea of looking in Godric’s Hollow, so about a month later we were wandering around in the dead of night, looking for Potter anywhere.
Bella, who did have a tendency to be paranoid after spending all those years in Azkaban, thought she heard something, so she shot out a Stunning spell on the ground in front of us. Still, we thought nothing of it.
I suggested we spilt up. Perhaps I had an instinct that I had to be alone; perhaps I was just tired of hearing Snape nagging that I never should have taken the mission. (Did he expect me to tell the Dark Lord that I wouldn’t do I? I wonder what would have happened then. Death, perhaps? Oh, right, great plan.)
So I went forward. Suddenly, I thought I heard breathing. I dismissed the thought since I was getting far to nervous. I started walking forward through a deserted lot.
Then, I tripped.
I looked back. It appeared that I tripped on air. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew I had felt something solid. I groped around the ground until I felt what I had tripped on.
One spell later, the Disillusionment charm was off of Potter, who had gotten hit with Bella’s Stunning spell
“You really should have been quieter,” I told him in a haughty, superior voice. “And where is the rest of the Wonder Trio? Off trying to find world peace or solve global warming?”
While I was talking, I took his wand away from him and performed a very handy spell that my father had taught me. The spell allowed a person to move and talk, but they would be trapped inside something similar to an invisible cage that repelled any magic the person inside it might try to cast. Then I took the stunning spell off Potter.
He glared at me. “I didn’t tell Ron and Hermione I was leaving. They’re probably asleep.”
“So no one knows where you are?” I asked, marvelling at how stupid heroes like Potter could be.
Here it was: the answer to my mission.
“As if I would tell you that,” he answered.
“Come on, Potter, if you didn’t tell your friends where you were going, do you really expect me to believe that you that didn’t tell someone else?”
He didn’t answer. After a simple Legilmency spell, I found out that he really hadn’t told anyone.
“Potter, do you know that I have instructions to bring you to the Dark Lord so that he can kill you? I actually expected you to stay home--or wherever it is you stay--but I suppose heroes can’t be expected to have common sense.”
Potter lunged against the wall of his cage, which of course he couldn’t get out of. “I don’t care what you’ve been told to do. You couldn’t kill Dumbledore and you can’t kill me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just told you I’m not going to kill you. I just have to take you to your best mate.”
I raised my wand, about to have him carted over to the Death Eaters when the first part of his sentence finally registered in my mind. He was right; I hadn’t been able to kill Dumbledore and I could never be as ruthless as the other Death Eaters. Compared to them, I was a saint.
What would the Dark Lord do if I did bring Potter to him? I doubt he would honour me above all others; I would be lucky if he didn’t kill me just for the hell of it.
Potter broke into my thoughts, “Are you going soft, Malfoy. Or did you finally realize that you really aren’t as bad as you thought? When are you going to start being loyal--”
That set me off. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not loyal? You don’t even know what loyalty is. All you know is what the Hufflepuffs will say about not telling on your friend or some crap like that. That isn’t real. That’s for kids. Have you ever had to be loyal to someone you hate? Have you ever kept your mouth shut so that someone wouldn’t get killed? Only a Slytherin knows what loyalty is, Potter. Only a Slytherin knows how to lie even if it kills them.” Then I could feel my smile get twisted, insane. “Do you think I wanted to kill Dumbledore? Do you know how much I wanted to get out of it? But I couldn’t refuse the mission. I had to think of my family, even though I hate my father. How could anyone not hate my father? That’s what Slytherin loyalty is, Potter--doing what you have to do to save someone you hate. That’s more than normal loyalty. I hate my life, and, to tell you the truth, I really want you to kill the Dark Lord, but if I don’t bring you in I’ll die.”
Potter looked confused, as if he was seeing a new person. “Why don’t you just leave if you hate it so much?”
“Didn’t I just give an entire speech about that, Potter?” I said with a smirk.
“I always thought Slytherins save themselves first.”
I shrugged, “Maybe some do, but not me.”
“Dumbledore told you to come to the Order. So why don’t you?”
“Even if I wanted to, I’m always watched,” I answered slowly.
“You aren’t now, are you?”
“Well, unless you are even dumber than I thought, the headquarters would have a Secret Keeper or something to guard it, so that someone like me couldn’t just walk right in,” I answered in a bored voice, figuring I had ages to talk. Bella and Snape were in the opposite direction, and I wasn’t about to let Potter out anytime soon. Plus, I was confused. I really didn’t want to turn Potter over to the Dark Lord, but what choice did I have?
“Go to the Order,” Potter said to me. I was startled to find that I had spoken my last thought aloud.
“You trust me, Potter? Why is that?”
“You’ve had about ten minutes to kill me, and yet I’m still here. You couldn’t kill Dumbledore, so I really see no reason to distrust you. I’ll never like you, but--”
I glared at him. I knew that he was going to say that I had a bad life. The last thing in the world I needed was Potter pity.
Then he said the last thing I expected him to, “I’m the Order’s Secret Keeper.”
I was about to respond but didn’t have time. With a practised ear, I heard Bella’s soft, slow footsteps coming nearer. Potter had heard too, and he looked at me, asking a silent question.
I had a second to choose. Should I give up my loyalty to my family? I knew that I couldn’t fulfill the assignment. I couldn’t turn in Potter, as much as I hated him. So I would die, and a person can’t be loyal when they’re dead.
“Tell me.”
“Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”
I released Potter’s spell, threw him his wand, and we Disapparated just before Bella was able to see us.
I couldn’t believe I had left. I could easily Apparate back to Bella and Snape, not telling them anything about Potter, but what would it do? If I went back, I would be dead in a short period of time.
I don’t know where Potter went. Maybe he Apparated straight into the house to warn them I was coming. Perhaps he went on another one of his stupid missions. Maybe he was plotting to kill me when I opened the door, but at that point I didn’t care. If I went back, I would surely die, and this way I figured I had a good chance of staying alive.
I exhaled the breath that I had been holding. Maybe I would never give up my prejudices, maybe I could never give up my feelings that purebloods were superior, but I knew most of all that I could never go back to where I had been.
I put my hand on the doorknob, and slowly opened the door.
I tried to smirk about Potter, but I realized that I couldn’t anymore. A year ago I would have never even considered getting help from the Order of the Phoenix, but I had changed in that short amount of time.
I never failed to be surprised that I wasn’t dead. Snape, my mother, and Aunt Bella had begged the Dark Lord to do anything but kill me.
He didn’t exactly kill me; he just sentenced me to death.
He said he had another mission for me--one that he knew I would fail. For some reason that had scared me more than when he gave me the task to kill Dumbledore. I knew now that he wanted me to die on the mission--that having me die this way would be more amusing for him than just using the killing curse.
“Find Potter,” the Dark Lord whispered, “and bring him to me.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if he had yelled it; for a second I forgot everything. Harry Potter was surrounded by the Order day and night as far as I knew. If I were him I wouldn’t have stepped onto the streets. Still, Potter was so damned heroic he was probably plotting the downfall of the greatest wizard who ever lived--I didn’t believe at the time that Potter would ever achieve that. Now the Dark Lord decided to send me. I was sure to die. Everyone in the Order knew I had tried to kill Dumbledore.
Just then I realised that I had been staring blankly for about a minute, so I asked, even though I fully knew I would die, “How?”
He laughed. Had I really expected him to answer? All he told me was, “Find a way or die.”
As I started to walk away, I heard his voice speak softly from behind me, “You will fail. You will die.”
I never looked back. Before I knew it, Bella, Snape and I were looking anywhere Potter might be. Soon Snape got the idea of looking in Godric’s Hollow, so about a month later we were wandering around in the dead of night, looking for Potter anywhere.
Bella, who did have a tendency to be paranoid after spending all those years in Azkaban, thought she heard something, so she shot out a Stunning spell on the ground in front of us. Still, we thought nothing of it.
I suggested we spilt up. Perhaps I had an instinct that I had to be alone; perhaps I was just tired of hearing Snape nagging that I never should have taken the mission. (Did he expect me to tell the Dark Lord that I wouldn’t do I? I wonder what would have happened then. Death, perhaps? Oh, right, great plan.)
So I went forward. Suddenly, I thought I heard breathing. I dismissed the thought since I was getting far to nervous. I started walking forward through a deserted lot.
Then, I tripped.
I looked back. It appeared that I tripped on air. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew I had felt something solid. I groped around the ground until I felt what I had tripped on.
One spell later, the Disillusionment charm was off of Potter, who had gotten hit with Bella’s Stunning spell
“You really should have been quieter,” I told him in a haughty, superior voice. “And where is the rest of the Wonder Trio? Off trying to find world peace or solve global warming?”
While I was talking, I took his wand away from him and performed a very handy spell that my father had taught me. The spell allowed a person to move and talk, but they would be trapped inside something similar to an invisible cage that repelled any magic the person inside it might try to cast. Then I took the stunning spell off Potter.
He glared at me. “I didn’t tell Ron and Hermione I was leaving. They’re probably asleep.”
“So no one knows where you are?” I asked, marvelling at how stupid heroes like Potter could be.
Here it was: the answer to my mission.
“As if I would tell you that,” he answered.
“Come on, Potter, if you didn’t tell your friends where you were going, do you really expect me to believe that you that didn’t tell someone else?”
He didn’t answer. After a simple Legilmency spell, I found out that he really hadn’t told anyone.
“Potter, do you know that I have instructions to bring you to the Dark Lord so that he can kill you? I actually expected you to stay home--or wherever it is you stay--but I suppose heroes can’t be expected to have common sense.”
Potter lunged against the wall of his cage, which of course he couldn’t get out of. “I don’t care what you’ve been told to do. You couldn’t kill Dumbledore and you can’t kill me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just told you I’m not going to kill you. I just have to take you to your best mate.”
I raised my wand, about to have him carted over to the Death Eaters when the first part of his sentence finally registered in my mind. He was right; I hadn’t been able to kill Dumbledore and I could never be as ruthless as the other Death Eaters. Compared to them, I was a saint.
What would the Dark Lord do if I did bring Potter to him? I doubt he would honour me above all others; I would be lucky if he didn’t kill me just for the hell of it.
Potter broke into my thoughts, “Are you going soft, Malfoy. Or did you finally realize that you really aren’t as bad as you thought? When are you going to start being loyal--”
That set me off. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not loyal? You don’t even know what loyalty is. All you know is what the Hufflepuffs will say about not telling on your friend or some crap like that. That isn’t real. That’s for kids. Have you ever had to be loyal to someone you hate? Have you ever kept your mouth shut so that someone wouldn’t get killed? Only a Slytherin knows what loyalty is, Potter. Only a Slytherin knows how to lie even if it kills them.” Then I could feel my smile get twisted, insane. “Do you think I wanted to kill Dumbledore? Do you know how much I wanted to get out of it? But I couldn’t refuse the mission. I had to think of my family, even though I hate my father. How could anyone not hate my father? That’s what Slytherin loyalty is, Potter--doing what you have to do to save someone you hate. That’s more than normal loyalty. I hate my life, and, to tell you the truth, I really want you to kill the Dark Lord, but if I don’t bring you in I’ll die.”
Potter looked confused, as if he was seeing a new person. “Why don’t you just leave if you hate it so much?”
“Didn’t I just give an entire speech about that, Potter?” I said with a smirk.
“I always thought Slytherins save themselves first.”
I shrugged, “Maybe some do, but not me.”
“Dumbledore told you to come to the Order. So why don’t you?”
“Even if I wanted to, I’m always watched,” I answered slowly.
“You aren’t now, are you?”
“Well, unless you are even dumber than I thought, the headquarters would have a Secret Keeper or something to guard it, so that someone like me couldn’t just walk right in,” I answered in a bored voice, figuring I had ages to talk. Bella and Snape were in the opposite direction, and I wasn’t about to let Potter out anytime soon. Plus, I was confused. I really didn’t want to turn Potter over to the Dark Lord, but what choice did I have?
“Go to the Order,” Potter said to me. I was startled to find that I had spoken my last thought aloud.
“You trust me, Potter? Why is that?”
“You’ve had about ten minutes to kill me, and yet I’m still here. You couldn’t kill Dumbledore, so I really see no reason to distrust you. I’ll never like you, but--”
I glared at him. I knew that he was going to say that I had a bad life. The last thing in the world I needed was Potter pity.
Then he said the last thing I expected him to, “I’m the Order’s Secret Keeper.”
I was about to respond but didn’t have time. With a practised ear, I heard Bella’s soft, slow footsteps coming nearer. Potter had heard too, and he looked at me, asking a silent question.
I had a second to choose. Should I give up my loyalty to my family? I knew that I couldn’t fulfill the assignment. I couldn’t turn in Potter, as much as I hated him. So I would die, and a person can’t be loyal when they’re dead.
“Tell me.”
“Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”
I released Potter’s spell, threw him his wand, and we Disapparated just before Bella was able to see us.
I couldn’t believe I had left. I could easily Apparate back to Bella and Snape, not telling them anything about Potter, but what would it do? If I went back, I would be dead in a short period of time.
I don’t know where Potter went. Maybe he Apparated straight into the house to warn them I was coming. Perhaps he went on another one of his stupid missions. Maybe he was plotting to kill me when I opened the door, but at that point I didn’t care. If I went back, I would surely die, and this way I figured I had a good chance of staying alive.
I exhaled the breath that I had been holding. Maybe I would never give up my prejudices, maybe I could never give up my feelings that purebloods were superior, but I knew most of all that I could never go back to where I had been.
I put my hand on the doorknob, and slowly opened the door.
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