𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the dark tattoo

“I am not in danger.
I am the danger.”

•

WHEN DRACO MALFOY was marked, his mother had cried in her chambers. He heard her sob in his father's arms, repeatedly saying 'He's my only son!' as his father tried to convince her it was an honor. He didn't know if he's father truly believed that, but he was grateful nonetheless that his father was not in Azkaban. He didn't know how Skylar had made that possible, but he was grateful nonetheless.

When he chose the path of being a spy for the Order, he knew the curse that came with it. His mother wasn't wrong. He was just a boy. But, Voldemort was there. He was here to seize control of the Wizarding World, turning it into an all powerful institution of concentrated pureblood witches and wizards. Voldemort was here to kill Harry Potter,the one he had marked as his equal, once and for all. And as much as Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter, he couldn't help but wonder late at nights, when his subconscious would be taking control, that what had Harry Potter ever done to him?

He could never come up with an answer.

Apart from deeming him unworthy of his friendship when Draco deeply wanted to befriend The Boy Who Lived, there was nothing Harry Potter had done. He had, on multiple occasions, saved people, and although Draco believed he had a bit of hero complex, he didn't truly hate him.

But Voldemort was here, living in his house, eating food made by his house elves, strolling in his garden, sleeping in his guestroom, sitting in his living room, invading his only sanctuary. Voldemort had given him a reason to hate.

Draco Malfoy hated Voldemort. He considered it no honor to be a servant to Him. His heart shuddered everytime Voldemort would kill someone in his home, and make him, the newly instated Death Eater, watch. His throat hurt everytime he had to call him My Lord. He couldn't fathom how ones brain can work in a way that one made killing seem ordinary.

He knew he had to do his best to stop this man from attaining any confidence on his side. He knew he played an important role, almost as important as Professor Snape. He was afraid, of course, that some day, by slip of tongue or by thought, he'd be caught, and that's be the last day of his life. He, of course wondered,if that day came by, if he'd be tortured or given the mercy of a quick death.

He wondered, in another timeline, in a time when Skylar Firegold hadn't decided to join Hogwarts in the middle of term,a the way from a foreign country, whether he's consider being a Death Eater an honour. He wondered how things would've been different.

Draco Malfoy had grown up hearing about the Firegolds from his father, how they had been together in school, all their adventures, all their illegal pursuits. His father's eyes always glittered with an emotion he never used whenever he spoke of Meredith Potter or Alakay Firegold. And he spoke of their girl, who had died. That's what Lucius Malfoy believed.

But Skylar Firegold was alive. She wasn't a myth. She was real. And she was his. Therefore, she trusted her. And more so, he trusted Dumbledore.

So in this timeline, Draco Malfoy considered being a Spy for the Order an honor. An honor to the school that shaped him,an honor to his parents who, he knew, deep down didn't ask for this fate. An honor to the girl he loved so much.

This was his chance to avenge his father, who had now no respect in his house, who cowered at the mere mention of Voldemort. He, despite how strained their relationship was, hated how Lucius Malfoy had broken down to a dark robe of nothing.