A Lamb to the Slaughter

Draco's Prologue

Throw out everything you know about canon Harry Potter.

Sorry for the dramatics of that statement, but this fic isn't canon compliant. This takes place on a fictional island off the coast of England, where Voldemort and Hogwarts and the Chosen One Prophecy do not exist. This story is about Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy in a new setting. There will be familiar faces, spells, and names, and while some will line up with 'canon', some will not. Magic also works different in this fic, so be prepared for new or resigned potions & spells. I do not own these characters, or the ideas that come from the Harry Potter universe. I also do not the rights do any elements I use from the novel the Grace Year, as those belong to Kim Ligget.

Please enjoy and comment ANY thoughts & feelings about the fic :)

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'I felt your finger nails drag down the warm skin of my back
And I think I felt fire beneath them.
You are the only magic that I know of that shows power without taking any in the process.' - Tyler Knott Gregson

PART ONE- THE LAMB & THE SERPENT

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The old witch looked cold as she finally stopped breathing, now dead on the black marble floor. Draco Malfoy found that he had an overwhelming instinct to throw a fur blanket over her body.

But he was a good son, one who knew his place. So instead of covering the woman's body in warmth, he bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his polished boots.

The sharp click of a door closing echoed throughout the sterile castle of House Black, who were the current owners of this centuries witch.

Or rather, they were up until nine seconds ago.

Now it was his house - House Malfoy - that would own the next one. Their turn.

It was a cycle, one that even at age eleven he was learning.

Nott, Potter, Black, Malfoy, Zabini, Parkinson.

Over and over and over, never stopping for anything or anyone. Always constant, never stagnant. If they stopped, if things got unbalanced, then the Mudbloods could sweep in and demolish them.

Draco swallowed again as he looked at the woman's body, dark blood trickling out of her nose even now.

He didn't want someone living like this in his home. The thought made him want to get on his broom and fly above the clouds, where he could safely hide from all his duties as the Malfoy heir. From his duties as a member of the Six.

His mother and father emerged from around the corner, Orion Black following close behind. Orion was biting back a dark smirk, but both of his parents were pale and frowning.

The Malfoy's were known for their creamy white skin and moonlight hair, but when they paled - in sickness or in emotional distress - they looked like ghosts who were barely clinging onto this side of the veil.

His mother came behind him and gently put her thin hands around his shoulders. Draco let himself lean into her.

"Mummy's boy," Theo Nott whispered from his right side.

Draco cut his eyes to the boy. "At least I still have a mother."

Theo's lip curled into a snarl.

"Hush, Draco." His mother chastised. "Don't say such things."

Draco felt a pulse of shame warm his chest and he swallowed, casting his eyes back down to his boots.

Orion Black stepped into the center of the circle, his shoes uncomfortably close to the woman's open eyes.

"Our witch is dead." He said, very matter-of-fact. "We will now have to rely on the magic we've stored away until we retrieve the new one. This might be the earliest we've ever lost a lamb, but for the children we now have, for the next generation standing before us, it's worth it."

A polite round of soft clapping filled the air.

Draco looked at each child Orion referenced. Himself. Theodore Nott. Blaise Zabini. The Parkinson twins - Pansy and Peter. Harry Potter.

Draco thought that the Blacks would use it to their advantage, that they had been able to conceive naturally, while the other five had to use blood magic to have children. But he didn't care if they did, and he didn't care that it took unnatural forces to exist. He was born because of it, and so were his friends, Blaise and Theo.

The Blacks didn't have a child, as they were already the largest family of the Six. They had Regulus and Sirius and Nymphadora, they didn't need an heir like the others so desperately did.

On the other side of the circle, Pansy gave him a shy smile. He didn't return it.

"Now, the noble and most ancient House of Black passes on the responsibility of caring for and housing the next witch to the cold and most cunning House of Malfoy."

All heads swiveled to stare at Draco, his mother Narcissa, and his father Lucius.

"We understand this is no light assignment," Lucius said as he stepped forward. "When the next witch is brought forth we will make sure her magic flourishes in our environment so we will all reap the benefits."

Orion gave his father a knowing nod. Draco wondered, briefly, if it was because of what they discussed in Orion's study just moments ago. Before he could ponder it, Regulus spoke.

"Burn her, father." He said. "The bones of a witch can be ground and used as a wonderful salve or healing paste, after all. Let the elves store her ashes in my potions room."

With a flick of Orion's wand, fiendfyre consumed the woman's dead body, filling the air with the rich but vulgar stench of burnt human flesh.

At least she isn't cold anymore. Draco thought morbidly, the flames warming his skin.

"Draco, let's go." His mother ushered him forward, and he followed her out without a backwards glance at the burning corpse.

The three Malfoy's had almost made it to their carriage when Orion called out from the shadows for them to wait.

"Lucius," he purred. "I'll have the papers owled to your manor immediately."

His father said nothing, only nodding once.

Orion's eyes cut to Draco. "We'll begin the hunt for the next little witch in three days." His face turned almost feral as he said, "She'll change everything, becoming the wife of young Draco Malfoy."