bury a friend • drarry

l u r k

Chapter One:

Malfoy was in a foul mood that morning. There was a chill to the air as he boarded the Hogwarts train, still not having a fully formed plan for how he would murder the headmaster. He watched out the window as he saw Potter wave goodbye to a black dog before getting on the train. The same black dog his father claimed was the infamous Sirius Black.

"Hey Malfoy." Crabbe and Goyle sat down in the compartment beside him. By his sixth year he should have ditched the two idiots long ago, but they didn't seem to have many other friends, and Malfoy pitied them.

"Crabbe, Goyle." Malfoy addressed, giving a nod in each of their directions. He pulled out his copy of the Daily Prophet and started reading. There was bound to be at least a good laugh or two, they were constantly throwing in jokes about Harry's pending mental collapse.

"How was your vacation, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked.

"Ah good. My father taught me quite a few new spells."

Both Crabbe and Goyle's eyes widened. They'd seen Malfoy do quite a few marvellous tricks already, of course all the tricks he'd done for them had been dark magic, or near enough, but he was always seeking new spells to impress them. He was always seeking something darker, he'd found spells so dark they seemed to corrupt his very soul, yet he couldn't stop trying to learn more. His hunger for new knowledge never seemed to be satisfied.

Draco pulled out his wand and gave a sharp swish, as though cracking a whip. A loud tearing sound was made as Crabbe and Goyle's eyes widened, not believing it was possible.

They looked at the small rip, as though their world was made of fabric, it looked to be torn, revealing another world entirely.

"What is that?" Crabbe turned his head, looking at it from different angles.

Malfoy smiled proudly down at his creation, having worked particularly hard to perfect that certain spell. "It's a tear in the fabric of our universe." He replied, still smirking, although he knew that Crabbe and Goyle were meatheads, and couldn't possibly understand what a tear in the fabric of the universe meant.

Malfoy quickly grabbed Goyle's hand, stopping him from reaching into the tear, and with a quick swishing motion with his wand, the tear was sewn back together. And just like that the dark magic was reversed, replaced with something entirely normal. Entirely boring, or so Malfoy thought.

With each spell he cast his soul only grew darker and darker, until it was blacker than the night with twice as much might as a black hole. Always, he needed to find a new spell, a new object, to occupy him. Draco supposed that the dark arts were becoming a bit of a hobby of his, one his father very much approved of.

Pansy threw open the door to the compartment, her nose stuck up at Crabbe and Goyle as she took a seat beside Malfoy. Pansy was the possessive type. She was the bad type. Pansy was the type that didn't care how many people her boyfriend fucked, but the moment they said they loved him, she'd be after them with a crowbar. Those others girls didn't know the meaning of the word love. No one did. Not until they loved Draco the way that Pansy did.

"Hey." she greeted Draco, leaning up against his arm.

"Hey." Draco stared down at Pansy with the same cold eyes he used when he stared down at everyone else. "Got any new gossip?" he asked slyly. He only kept her around to keep up with all the little details. If not, he would never know what was going on around this place.

"Well rumour has it we've got a new defence against the dark arts teacher, but of course you already knew that." she rolled her eyes. "We get a new one each year. Patty says it's someone named Slughorn. He was a former Slytherin head apparently."