Tempus Viatorum

Chapter 8

Draco hated the fact that the Dark Lord had successfully lured him in once again. There was no escaping him, not during this time, nor his own. Was he doomed to do his bidding for the rest of his miserable life?

It started off small, just like last time. Obliviate this person. Make sure the teachers like you. Help the others with their school work.

Do this, Draco. Do that. Make sure this is done, or else.

He was fucking sick of it already. Hadn't they escaped to be free from this bullshit?

Because he knew that even though it was small things now, it could only go downhill from here. He knew that the Dark Lord was in there, he could see it in Tom's eyes. They were just as cold, just as void of human emotion as Voldemort's had been.

He also knew he stood out from the rest, and that Riddle could sense that. It wasn't intentional, he just couldn't stand to be around the git. So whenever he could, he'd bolt. Draco figured he could get away from tasks that way, but he doubted it would do him any good in the long run.

The only upside during this hell forsaken time was Hermione Granger, and that was a game changer by itself. Never in a million years would he have believed that he'd want to spend time with a muggleborn, nonetheless her. But she was intriguing. Her mind was exquisite, and what was the harm in forging a friendship? After all, they were stuck here together with no way back.

He felt bad for the things he had put her through during their childhood, even more so when he got to know her. She wasn't all that bad. So when Walburga Black had made that comment about her manners, he knew he had to help her. It was something he ought to have done from the start, really, but instead he had let her behave like the muggleborn she was. It was painfully obvious for anyone with the right upbringing that she had zero to no etiquette classes in her system.

He added that to the ever growing list of things he had to apologise for.

It was a Friday night, and so he had made plans with Granger to teach her more etiquette before the Death Eater meeting. She had adapted to his lessons somewhat, but forgot herself more times than not. He knew everyone was watching her; it was prudent that she learned how to behave.

They walked together towards the 7th floor in silence. It had been a hard week with more assignments than they were used to. Even Granger looked somewhat tired. He knew she had spent her free time in the library, and he had actually gone with her more times than not. She was a great study partner, complementing him in ways he didn't know he needed. He liked to believe he too was of good influence for her studies. There had been at least a few times where his line of thinking had surprised her.

This time when they came up to the empty wall, he thought of a different room. One that better suited this particular lesson.

He entered with Granger in tow, and heard her gasp as she took in their surroundings.

"A ballroom?" she laughed. "Really, Malfoy?"

"Now that you're invited to Sluggies' little Halloween party, which is a place where you dance, you need to learn just how to behave," he explained as he went to the small dancefloor.

Granger hesitantly followed him, a wary look on her face.

"Come now. I won't bite," he smiled, intentionally showing his canines. "Not unless you ask me to."

"Charming," she scowled at him.

"There's a door there where you can change into a gown," he said and pointed towards a door at the far end of the room.

"Change?" she asked with a frown.

"Yes, well you need to learn how to behave yourself in a gown, do you not?" he said and rolled his eyes. "Honestly Granger, one would think you were raised my mountain trolls."