Draco Malfoy's Perspective

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Now that the cabinet was fixed, Draco had a little skip in his step. Well, figuratively. Everyone could tell something had happened, but it wasn't monumental enough for anyone to get suspicious.

Violet relaxed back and watched him, while letting Theresa think that she was listening to her. Day in, day out. If she wasn't with him, she was watching him. He wouldn't show up every now and again, but she knew he wasn't in the Room of Requirement. When he would show up, there were traces, just faint enough, of a red nose and of streaks of salt water on his face. She knew where he had been, and she knew why.

He was dreading the day they would show up. The Death Eaters. Because it would mean that he had to kill Dumbledore. He would be forced to physically take his wand and murder in cold blood a mentor of his.

Wednesday two weeks before the attack, Violet stood up. Theresa cut off in the middle of a sentence. "Wh-are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, course. Just gimme a minute."

Following her friend's gaze, Theresa saw Draco and grimaced, but nodded. She still didn't really like him. "Okay."

Draco was walking out. Violet fell into step beside him. He still hadn't said a word to her about what he was going to do. She resented his silent suffering. It was telling her that she wasn't trustworthy.

"There's something more," she said. He didn't respond. "You'll tell me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I can help. You're my friend and I don't like seeing my friends torturing themselves."

"I'm not torturing myself."

"Staying quiet is as much torture to you as anything else. Tell me what the purpose of this attack is, and I can help you figure out how to get out of it."

He shook his head. "This isn't something you get out of, Violet. You either do it or you die."

As he sped up to get away from her, she grabbed his arm. "Sorry, Draco. Not leaving."

He sneered at her. "Stubborn as a mule."

"Always and forever. So talk."

"No." He pulled his arm free and strode off. She huffed, letting him get ahead of her.

"We make our own choices! You can't be forced to do anything you don't want to do!"

He shook his head, not slowing down. In a rush of anger, she pulled out her wand, but then sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Not today, Violet," she said to herself. Today Draco could go unhexed. Next time though, he may not be so lucky.

He was seething as he walked away, his hands clenched. Who did she think she was, telling him how to live his life? He knew very well what he had to do. She couldn't change that. She could not change his decision.

Decision. Had he really just thought that? This was not a decision. It was a command. She couldn't change his command. His order. That was more like it.

No, Violet would never know. He would never tell her. It would break her. It would break him. Never admit to it. Never let her know that it was you who murdered her beloved headmaster.

But if she did...if she found out, he would need something to help redeem himself in her eyes. He had a little under two weeks left before it happened. He could find something. He could find why she had been moved to his house that fateful day.

True, he had already begun searching, but to a very small extent. Pure curiosity had grabbed him, back when he thought she was a Mudb–Muggleborn. Still trying to kick the awful habit. He grimaced. How dare she challenge his habits and his character! How dare she change him! Getting books on Muggleborns, endangering his very life! She had to have placed him under a spell!

But if she had, then how had his mother not found out? His aunt? The Dark Lord, who knew all? And why had he not confessed undying love for her? That would be the only reason to have placed him under a spell; for him to stop hating her.

He rolled his eyes. Violet wasn't nearly shallow enough to do that to him. That was a Gryffindor trait she'd picked up.

He stopped walking. A delightful scent tickled his nose. Alluring. He nearly sighed, smelling it. His eyes drifted closed; he felt at peace. What was the scent? Opening his eyes, he took a long breath and sighed aloud. He didn't know what it was, but it was heavenly.

A name for the reason of the smell popped into his head, but before he could identify why he smelled just this, someone startled him. "Draco," drawled a quiet female voice. His head snapped to the right, down a hall that led to the Astronomy Tower. That wasn't Violet. With a start he realized just what the scent was. It was what he had smelled in the forest behind his house, when Violet had come so close to him that he could see his reflection in her eyes. Grass, wet earth, and perfume.

But this girl wasn't Violet. And she had worn Amortentia as a perfume, obviously thinking it would remind him of her. Instead he turned away from her and walked away. She caught up. "You must still be confused. The smell of Amortentia is supposed to break love potions."

"I haven't the slightest what you mean." He pulled his arm away from her. What was it with girls grabbing his arm today?

Poppy grimaced. She was so ugly when she did that. "It hasn't worked? You're still in love with that Mudblood?"

"Watch your tongue. And I am not in love with anybody."

She laughed; it was a cruel noise that could've shattered glass. A first year somewhere behind them shrieked and dropped a bag. "Stupid boy! Even a Muggle could see that you are!"

"Leave me alone. I don't care to talk to you."

"Of course you don't. Where's your little wench now? Off giving kisses to a Mudblood of her own?"

His already angry mood fell even more, and he pulled out his wand. "I said leave." She looked terrified as she scurried off, and he took a deep breath. Women.

Now, to the headmaster's office.