𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 (Draco Malfoy x OC)

𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮

Olive

Light streams through my bedroom curtains, illuminating my bedroom with a yellow glow. It's such a beautiful sight for such a not-so-beautiful day. 

My stomach sinks when I realise what today is; what I'm about to do. I stare at the ceiling, willing myself to focus. 

Everything must go perfectly today - the first few days at the Order is the most crucial to the plan. If I screw things up, there will be no going back. 

I hear noises coming from downstairs, probably Mother, Father, and maybe some other Deatheaters getting everything ready for today. 

I rub my eyes, sitting upright in my bed. I figure that it's about 6:00 in the morning, so I have around two hours until I actually have to leave. I rub my arms nervously, squeezing my eyes shut tight, trying to block everything out - at least for a second. 

I force myself out of bed, despite the lingering feeling of sheer exhaustion. Walking over to my wardrobe, I choose the most innocent, most generic outfit I can come up with - I can't stand out too much. 

I end up settling on a simple white sweater and a pair of light blue high-waisted jeans, complete with a black belt. As for accessories, I choose a small heart necklace and a silver ring, and I slip on a pair of cashmere ankle boots. I wear my hair down, placing a small gold butterfly clip at the front.

I quickly glance in the mirror, and my outfit briefly reminds me of what a muggle may wear. I decide that Mother and Father certainly wouldn't like that, so I throw on a black cloak with silver detailing that I bought from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. 

 I run through the Plan over and over in my head, pacing up and down my room. I take out my wand, practicing simple spells that I may need, but I hardly pay attention to myself. 

But at the back of my mind the only thing I can think of is the dead body from last night, that I'm trying so hard to forget about and how my heart feels as if it's being ripped in two. 

I place my hands over my heart, as if trying to shield my heart from all of my emotions. There is no place in the Plan for my feelings - I can't afford any distractions.

I walk over to my bedside table where two suitcases full of my belongings sit. They've been there for weeks, waiting for this day to come. The first suitcase is filled with my school things - uniforms, school books, and any other supplies I may need for school. There is also a couple thousand golden galleons in there for anything else I may need. 

The second suitcase is filled with my personal belongs, like clothing and other small things. The second suitcase also contains a couple notebooks filled with paper with a special enchantment placed upon them. The spell makes whatever is written on the paper disappear moments after being written. 

 The only way to read what was written is to recite a spell that only a select few know - including the Dark Lord, Mother and Father. This is how I am supposed to communicate with the Deatheaters. Every few days I am supposed to write down any information I have discovered, and send it by owl. If this can't be done somehow, I am supposed to pass the information to either Snape or Draco to then be passed onto the Dark Lord's inner circle. 

I flop down at my bed, twirling a lock of my hair nervously. I can't fuck things up - not now. I bite down on my lip hard, deciding that I better go downstairs now. There's no point in ignoring the inevitable - it's going to happen anyways. 

I pull out my wand from my cloak, and mutter a simple spell. I watch as my suitcases levitate midair behind me. 

I brush my hair our of my eyes, and start walking out of my room, my luggage trailing behind me. I take one last glance at my room that I hate, and realise that this is probably the last time I'll see my room in a year - if ever, if things go downhill.