Draco's Princess (dramione)

Chapter 17

Mad eye Moody's/ Barty Crouch junior's POV (diary/journal entry)

Entry 243

Mr Potter and Mr Weasley have been following me for a while. I do not know why, but it seems suspicious. I should keep a lookout on them, alas I do not have Potter's map... I must get it soon. Only then shall I be fully in power of observing where everyone is.

Hermione's POV

Their planning had been going well, but it had hit a snag. Who was Professor Moody turning into? That information was crucial and extremely important. No one could do legilimency and none of them could fool him... for now though, they had to be extremely careful and focus on the third task. Ludo Bagman would be taking the champions to see their playing field at the Quidditch Pitch, which now had something growing on it. She was at the library, a place she could do all her thinking, when a blonde headed person sat next to her.

He looked sad and downcast. She knew it was Draco, his unmistakable blonde hair showed in the light. The odd thing was, his head was in his hands and he was shaking. It took Hermione a moment to realise Draco was crying. He never cried. He was always so strong and handled everything so well. She knew he had a lot of hurt bottled up, but not enough to make him sob. And he was really strong, just like her. What would make him cry so hard? Hermione put a shaking hand on his shoulder and tried to steady her voice, "Draco, what happened. A-are you alright?" Draco didn't even reply to her. He raised his head, and in the moment, they made eye contact Hermione could see more than sadness, she could detect a hint fear in his silver eyes. "Look its time I tell you something I've been keeping a secret for a long time. We can't talk here. Let's go you know where." Hermione nodded. He meant the room.

They walked side by side, in silence. When the reached the Room, Draco took a deep breath and started, "my father gave me a choice... that choice is to become a Death Eater if Voldemort rises. I tried to ask him how a 15-year-old could be a Death Eater, but he assured me that Voldemort would accept me into the position. He had been given a choice. That's why I'm dead set on Voldemort not rising. Because if he does... I won't have a choice. I'll have to leave everybody... a-and you. I'm so sorry." Hermione gasped is surprise. How could he have kept this horrifying secret for so long? It must have been taxing on him too. She rubbed his back soothingly and said, "its alright. You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault. Its Voldemort's, that's why we want to defeat him, he's ruining innocent lives in more ways than killing."

Draco's POV

When she said those words, Draco had felt a renewed vigour that Voldemort was killing off all the joys of the world in more ways than one. At least now he would be more invested in their cause than ever. They parted, soon because he and she both had their own matter to attend to courtesy of their Professors with the amount of work given. He went to the Slytherin common Room and sat down on his favourite leather backed sofa, a seat no one else dared to take for fear of his wrath. He took out his parchment, textbook, quill and inkbottle and started doing a Transfiguration essay about what could go wrong while doing human transfigurations. To write the date on his parchment (Professor McGonagall was particular about that) he looked up and the clock with a snake curled around it on the wall. It was the third of June. With a jolt he realised his Birthday was coming soon in two days' time. With everything going on Draco hadn't had time to remember his birthday. That probably made him peculiar didn't it? Someone who forgot their own birthday. Most people lived for their birthday as if it was a big deal. It was only the day you were born nothing was special about that.

Besides Draco didn't really fancy a loud ball with many people he didn't know. Since growing up at the Manor, of course he liked somethings about it, like his clothes and appearance, but there were somethings he didn't like too. He didn't like loud flash balls with many famous or well affiliated people, who despite their standings, couldn't keep up an interesting conversation for their life. Nor did he like the rules and etiquette he had to keep by at all times to uphold the family name. while most children would have learnt how to bake cookies or knitting, he learnt how to walk, sit, stand, which for or spoon to use for which course and a variety of other useless things as well as tutorage. His tutor was an old-fashioned man with an oily voice, who was clearly there for the money. The only lesson he really liked was English. The way people crafted stories and put pictures in your head simply fascinated him. By the age of nine years old he had read a number of classics such as Little Women, Pride and Prejudice, Anne of Green Gables, and a number of Shakespeare's plays. For his birthday a few years ago, he had gotten a first edition Shakespeare. Argh! Draco looked back at the clock and realised he had spent fifteen minutes absorbed in his thoughts. He immediately flipped through his book to the chapter's beginning and started on his essay.

Two hours later, Pansy walked in. ugh. She was such a pain. She batted her eyelashes at him and said, in that ridiculously high-pitched voice of hers, "Draco, do you want to come sit with me. I'm doing the Transfiguration essay too. And since your so good at Transfiguration would you mind helping me?" one. Draco knew that that was a lie. She was probably looking for a hairbrush to touch up her hair or something. And she always left her homework to the last minute. He averted his eyes and bent lower to the parchment. Getting annoyed Pansy huffed, "what is wrong with you. For the whole year it's like you're a completely different person. You don't hang out with us anymore, and I never seem to know where you are. What are you thinking?" Draco sighed resignedly and shook his head and ignored her. She huffed again, "fine. Be like that." And then she flounced out of the common room. A few moments later Virgo came in, chuckling. "what did you say to Pansy mate? She was practically breathing fire at me when I said hi." Draco grumbled and replied, "I told her what she needed to hear, which was nothing. She's mad 'cause I ignored her." Virgo chuckled again. Draco shot him a look and rolled up his parchment, he had finished. "hey where are you off to?" Virgo raised an eyebrow at him. 'I've only just come in and you're leaving. Tell you what, we haven't spent proper time together brother to brother since this drama started. I'm sure homework can wait, come with me." Draco knew Virgo wouldn't let him leave until he agreed so he nodded his head and smiled wryly, "oh and where is that your oh so esteemed sir?". Virgo dryly replied, "is that something you want me to call you?" he snickered. Draco would never win against him.