Dark Promises (A Draco Malfoy Fanfic)

Chapter 18

"What are you doing here, child? You should be with that boy, Harry Potter, discovering his weakness."

"I know, father, but, things have gotten complicated back in Hogwarts. Don't worry, he trusts me. Merlin's beard, I've known him for almost seven years", I assure him, hoping that he doesn't see my doubt.

"Alright", he glares at me suspiciously as if he could read my mind. "Now tell me why you were crying. No daughter of mine will show any vulnerability."

"It was nothing...", I turn back to watch the sunrise, and from the corner of my eye, I see him tilt his head slightly, faltering his face into a leery expression. "How come you've never told me anything about my mother? What was she like before she passed?"

"Angitia, I've told you everything you need to know. She was a 'Pure-blood' with a knack for power", he pauses. "You have her eyes; ice blue, clearer than the ocean."

"Do you still love her?"

"Love?"

"Yes, love." I twist my neck to get a better view of him; he looks quite confused as if he didn't know what it meant. "It's a brilliant thing, you know. It makes you want to dance in a field of flowers, scream on top of a mountain, or jump into cool water on a hot day. You feel a powerful sense of empathy toward your beloved, feeling the other person's pain as if it was your own and willing to sacrifice anything for them."

"What's his name?"

"Who?"

"The boy who broke your heart."

"Draco...", I say with a low voice, realizing that he knows who that is. Afterall, the Dark Lord specifically ordered him to murder Dumbledore.

"Speak up, child!"

"Draco Malfoy", now saying it confidently. I have to prove a point that he doesn't matter to me anymore, that he was a long forgotten memory. I have to prove it to myself if not anyone else.

"Ah, the Malfoy boy", he glares at me, perhaps thinking about how his daughter could have ever let a boy take over her emotions. From a young age, my father would always mention how 'boys are just a waste of time' and how 'love will get you nowhere'. "Do you love him?"

"Y-yes."

"Nonsense! You will not let that boy have any power over you, do you hear me?! My blood runs in your veins. It's power over love!"

"Power?"

"Power", he hisses, placing his hands on my shoulder and spinning me around. "Why don't I show you the satisfaction of being evil." He pulls out his wand, crafted from yew, and affixed with a phoenix feather core, more specifically, it was taken from Fawkes, Albus Dumbledore's phoenix; the same wand that was used to kill Harry's' parents. "Hologramadolum!"

A boy appears in thin air, translucent and ghostly, pale skin with white-blonde, messy hair. He is wearing his famous black, expensive suit and that aloof, nonchalant expression painted across his face. I reach my hands towards him, thinking that he's here, standing right in front of me, expect he's not real.

I swish my fingers through his face back and forth, not being able to touch or feel him--he is simply just a hologram.

"I want you to kill him."

"What?", I ask, as I whirl around in dismay, intimidated by his seriousness while he flicks his wand.

"Kill him."

I nod and face the boy, realizing that he looks more realistic. I didn't want to do it, not because I didn't want to hurt him, but because I was afraid that I may enjoy watching him suffer and beg for my mercy. However, the more I thought, the more I desired for a taste of his blood.

I point my wand forward, years of pain and tears forcing me to shoot spells. "Confringo". He steps aside idly, no reaction of any kind, eyes digging into mine. "Stupefy ". I miss, again. Red and green light emits and each time I try to aim, he just steps aside like nothing happened.

I can hear my father faintly scream in the background, "Stop playing around! End him!"

Frustrated at the lack of emotion in Malfoy's' face, I gather my courage and go in for the bite, like a snake to a ferret. I cast a trip jinx and watch as something catches him around the ankles, forcing him to fall backwards spectacularly, skidding along on his back for six feet before coming to a halt.

Caught in a psychotic grin, the shriek is timed so well that I let out a triumphant laugh. It felt f*cking fantastic. Adrenaline pumped in my body. I've won. I f*cking won.

Looming over his sprawled body, he attempted to escape my grip, crawling on the ground in despair, begging me to let him live. That fear in his eyes, oooh, gave me so much satisfaction.

"Look at what we have here. Malfoy praying for my pity," I brag bluntly, my grin still vivid as I bent down, drawing out my wand and using the tip to push into his throat. "I'm sorry to say, but it didn't look like you did the same for me."

"Wh-why?", he whispers softly as he tries to find the sympathy in my eyes.

"Revenge, darling."

A tear falls down his beautiful pale skin, crying out, "Please..."

"Avada Kedavra."

My knees shuddered as I concentrated on the lifeless body. Warm, and delicate, burgundy blood all over him in what felt like a feverish, lucid dream. And still, I couldn't find that speck of distress or guilt, not even a single teardrop. I just stared at the corpse and smiled.

"You see, you're exactly like me. Do you feel that surge of power coursing through your veins? That feeling when you watch your victim die, their blood on your fingers, as they hold onto their frivolous last breathe? How they had to go through some trouble just to see it all come crashing down? Now, imagine that same feeling as you sitting on a throne, I like to call 'power', and not having to fear for your life because everyone is too afraid to even utter your name and risk their precious and meaningless lives, on you", my father says harshly, proving his point with my little performance and again with a flick of his wand, the dead body was gone. "This 'love' you speak of, will never give you the same effect as power", he pauses, looking straight into my eyes and in parseltongue says,"If you desire to kill him, do it after the war. I need all the Death Eaters on my side. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."