CONQUERED - DRARRY

12

DRACO'S POV

Fuck this.

Really, fuck this.

There is something so bloody stupid about playing in some school task when something much bigger was at play.

Lord Voldemort is back. My father will be back. My world will become a place where I lounge in absolute, dark power.

Isn't it my duty? My responsibility to help bring him back? My life has already improved by just whispers of his return. Franklin and Gunther had already taken to my side, their fathers both part of the Dark Lords inner circle. The other boys in Durmstrang now avoided us, the braver ones shooting shy smiles at Franklin, who ignored them with not as much as a glance.

Franklin had always seemed to consider himself above everyone else. He was certainly the most powerful, and everyone considered him a shoe-in as Triwizard champion. He hung out with the other boys since first year, but it was more them following him, rather than the other way around.

His family was old, and very rich. Not Malfoy rich, but able to buy several countries rich. His family could probably buy Jeff Bezos as a pet. He had tormented me, sure, but now he had taken me in, under his dark wing. He had stopped calling me Malfoy, and opted instead to call me Draco. His face always held the same, bored expression, just like the rest of the rich families. His hair was long, down to his shoulders, and a dark inky black. It cascaded down like a waterfall, contrasting with his pale, sharp features. Unlike me, he didn't look like a gangly boy who didn't go outside or sleep enough, but a prince, who's face had been sculpted from stone.

Gunther was the polar opposite of Franklin. He was dimwitted, as opposed to Franklins biting intelligence. He was large in figure, a beater on the Durmstrang quidditch team. His neck was nearly triple the size of mine, and his skin was a sallow olive. His face was wide, with wide features and black eyes, and his only contributions to conversation were grunts, while Franklin and I discussed fluidly our plans to join the Dark Lord.

I always spoke half heartedly. On paper, it was perfect. Everything would be perfect. But my voice lacked the conviction that Franklin spoke with, his every word sparked with the flame of revenge.

I was thinking of this, as we walked onto the pitch. Franklin had spoken to me as we walked to Dumbledores office, mentioning offhandedly that "we can't afford embarrassment". He paused briefly, looking at me, sculpted brows furrowing. "You won't let me down, Draco?"

I had assured him I wouldn't. I couldn't possibly. Failure was not an option. Unfortunately, my winning points would have to be shared with Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, who kept staring at me, tripping over his feet. I have excellent peripheral vision. Take that, Potter.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Witches and wizards, welcome to the first task of this years Triwizard Tournament!" I blinked. Amelia Bones was holding her wand in front of her like a microphone, beaming at the noise numbing crowd.

"Today our contestants will face off against each other in a classic trust exercise! They have been partner with another, and must conquer the challenges their partnership faces! One will be blinded, armed with their wand, whilst their partner is wandless, and must instruct them in order to survive! Give it up for the champions!"

The crowd roared excitedly as we entered their view, walking briskly to the centre of the pitch, where we had been previously instructed to go.

"Bonnie Blanchet, partnered with Akira Nakano!" The Beauxbatons side cheered the loudest, waving their wands excitedly.

"Harry Potter, partnered with Draco Malfoy!" Their was a bit of a hesitation at first, but the clapping resumed, both the Hogwarts side and Durmstrang side stamping their feet and howling cheerfully.