Hateful Love

Chapter Twenty-One

NOTE: I do not own any of the ideas or characters expressed in this story (except Cassie Jackson). All of these belong to J.K. Rowling.

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Draco P.O.V.

“Lucius Malfoy…why must you always disappoint me?”

I wince as I hear another scream coming from the room down the hall. My father’s cries carry easily, but the Dark Lord’s voice has an unnatural way of reaching everyone’s ears, no matter how softly he speaks. I wring my hands repeatedly on my lap, feeling so uncomfortable and terrified. My stomach lurches at the thought of Voldemort bringing me in to speak to next.

I can feel my mother’s gaze on me, but I refuse to look back at her. I’d much rather stare at the dusty floor than have to see her haunted, dulled figure. She takes in a quiet breath of air, then reaches over and clutches my hand. By the sound of her labored breathing, I can tell she’s crying.

“Draco,” she whispers, her voice unusually thick with emotion. I still refuse to look at her, so she squeezes my hands and says quietly, “Draco, whatever he asks you to do…just do it. Please.”

I turn my head away, wishing I could somehow escape her terrified tone. I’m spared from making some sort of response, because my father suddenly appears in the doorway.

I look up, but immediately wish that I hadn’t. Lucius has a large, fresh bruise on his upper cheek, and for some reason, looks thinner than he did when he left twenty minutes ago. I avert my eyes as quickly as I can, but I can’t forget the image of my father, looking scared and broken.

Lucius licks his lips, fixing his gaze on me. He takes a shaky breath of air before saying, “Draco. He wants to see you.”

I shut my eyes for the briefest of moments, hoping I can somehow forget that I’m here. But I can’t.

I reluctantly stand after another moment and slip past my father, avoiding his watchful gaze at all costs. As I walk down the hallway, I try desperately to still my hands. They’ve been shaking all summer.

This thought reminds me of how agonizingly long this summer has been. It’s only halfway over, but I miss Cassie so much it hurts. But as I near the Dark Lord’s room, I force all thoughts of Cassie out of my head. I can’t let him find out about her.

I take in a shaky breath of air before slowly pushing open the door, and it takes all my willpower to step inside.

Automatically bowing my head slightly, I come to a stop just inside the doorway. I keep my eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look up.

“Draco…” Chills run up and down my spine as he whispers my name. I can feel his gaze burning into me, and I can tell he’s delving into my mind, trying to figure out what I’m thinking. I’ve already blocked off my mind, as Bellatrix taught me to; that, at least, she was good for.

Voldemort steps closer to me, but his feet don’t make a single sound against the hardwood flooring. “Draco, come closer…”

I’ve gotten better at hiding my fear this summer, but now, I’m sure my face is nothing but terrified. Voldemort’s never done anything like this before.

It takes me a moment, but I finally force my legs to work. I reluctantly step closer, and Voldemort continues softly, “Look over there, Draco.”

My eyes follow the direction of his yellowed, cracked fingernail and finally rest on a crumpled figure slouched on the floor. The breath catches in my throat, and I barely keep my mouth shut. It’s Ollivander.

The Dark Lord steps behind me, and I can tell he’s smiling, probably revealing his rotted teeth. My skin crawls, but then I realize I’m practically shaking from head to foot. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here.

“Draco…” Voldemort hisses over my shoulder. “Go on…use the Cruciatus curse. Don’t hold back, like your scum of a father did earlier…”

My fingers shake, but I know there’s no way I can get out of this. I reach inside my pocket and pull out my wand, my hands trembling so badly I almost drop it. I blink hard and point it at the form on the floor.

“Go on…I know you have it in you, Draco…”

His voice seems to slip inside my mind and make it foggy, so foggy I can barely think. My heavy breathing sounds shaky and unnatural in the small room. I swallow back bile in my throat; I think I might be sick.

“Now, Draco…do it…”

Tears prick at the back of my eyes, and I feel like I’m suffocating. The last thing I think is, I’m sorry, before I grip my wand tightly and whisper, “Crucio.”

The man at my feet writhes in pain, and hoarsely cries out. Terrified, I take a step back, trying desperately to escape Ollivander’s yells.

I slowly lower my wand, breathing heavily and on the verge of crying. How could I do that…I’m so sorry…

“How…disappointing,” Voldemort hisses coldly. “You’re no better than your father, Draco…”

I swallow hard, ducking my head so I can focus on forcing the tears back. I am not going to cry. I am not.

“Perhaps you need to learn…how to do it the right way…”

I shut my eyes tightly, knowing what’s coming. I’ve felt this countless of times, I’m ready for the pain—

“Crucio!”

My body is suddenly alight with fire, and a scream escapes me, despite my best efforts to contain myself. I clutch at my chest, feeling as though my heart is going to explode, and crash down onto the floor. I writhe on the hardwood, just as Ollivander had done seconds ago. Except Ollivander had not screamed as much as me.

My back arches involuntarily, and my yells echo everywhere. My eyes are just starting to roll to the back of my head when the pain suddenly cuts off.

I’m moaning loudly, but I scarcely notice—the smell of singed hair has filled the room. I lay weakly on the floor as Voldemort walks past me without another word, his cloak fluttering behind him.

My head lolls to the side, but I’m not making noise anymore; the only thing I can manage now is short gasps for air. A few tears roll down the side of my nose and hit the floor next to me, and I squeeze my eyes shut so I won’t have to look at anything anymore.

Even though my body is burning with so much pain, the only thing I can think of is Cassie. She fills my mind, and more tears spill over, my chest starting to convulse with sobs.

The end of summer can’t come fast enough…but I don’t think I’ll be the same person when it’s finally over…