The Return of the Dark Witch

P.O.V – Draco Malfoy

I swallowed hard as Becky turned to walk away. A moment barely passing by, before I lost sight of her in the crowd. I took a deep breath. To think, I almost…

“Draco, come on, I’ve been waiting all summer!” Whined Pansy, pawing hard at my chest, I had forgotten she was there. I turned back to look at her eager face, stepping away from her as I did so. Causing a lost expression to appear on her face as she attempted to search my eyes. I felt my mask slide back in place, I knew I was unreadable.

“Not now, Pansy.” I said firmly, turning away from her crest fallen face, and walking up the stairs. Shoving a few students for good measure, breathing heavily.

I had almost saved her. Sinclair. I thought to myself as I gritted my teeth. I knew Pansy would hex her, probably something good enough for a trip to the Hospital Wing, and I just…reacted. I didn’t even realize I had descended the stairs, wand out, until McGongall had shown up.

I licked my lips, frowning, and glaring at some random second year, causing him to cower in fear, as I rounded onto another staircase.

I’m a Malfoy, we never just react. There’s always a carefully thought out plan in the mix and if, by chance, we do, there is always something in it for us. What would be the value if there wasn’t?

It has got to be my nerves. I thought rapidly. I’m a bit frayed from lack of sleep after all, and that must have caused something to just, snap. I guess…

I bit my lip. My head beginning to hurt as I searched for the reason behind my actions. I’m not Potter, I don’t just save people, or even almost save people, for that matter. My ulterior motive has to be in my mind somewhere…I just can't see it right now.

I rounded another staircase.

I barely know Bec…Sinclair and what I did know about her, I despised. Her and that pesky ‘you have a choice’ attitude.

I sneered. What did she know about choices? Important ones, the kind where the lives of the people you love are at stake. She’s an orphan, I’ll bet she hasn’t loved anyone in her whole life.

I was drawn out of my thoughts by a searing pain in my left arm. I winced, clutching it. The Dark Lord must be calling a meeting. Thankfully, one I didn’t have to attend. I already had my orders, I knew my mission.

I hardened my heart as I looked upwards, only a few more flights, and then I would be there, the Room of Requirement. It was there I could finally work to save my family and prepare for the death of Albus Dumbledore.

A chill rushed through me at that thought. I ignored it.

What was the harm in taking a human life? Really? Everyone eventually dies after all; I thought to myself, repeating the words my aunt Bellatrix had told me while teaching me the unforgivables; You’re just helping them along, and for the cause of Dark Lord. Nothing could be more worthy than that.

I moved onto the next flight of stairs.

I couldn’t help but remember all the animals she had forced me to torture and…kill. How I had thrown up after the first time. Death turning my stomach. Aunt Bellatrix had used the Cruciartus Curse on me after that, she had told me I was weak, and that I should be proud to be chosen by the Dark Lord. Then she made me do it all over again, with the same result. She had worked with me for hours, until I finally had perfected all of the curses, without the side effects. I still had some bruises from where blood vessels had ruptured do to being crucioed so many times.

I blinked, trying to clear my head of those thoughts. I was a Death Eater now after all, not one in training. I stepped onto my last set of stairs.

I know I can kill Dumbledore. I have too…

Becky’s eyes flashed in my mind. So haunted, they were almost scary to look into, what could have possibly happened to her between the carriage and arriving at the Slytherin Common Room? I couldn’t help but wonder. She could see thestrals too, I recalled. So who did she see die?

My chest tightened. Did their death cause her pain like Dumbledore’s death would cause so many?

I shook my head, attempting to clear it. What do I care about other people’s pain? Their suffering? I’m a Malfoy. A Death Eater. I cause hurt, I don’t care about it. I’m not Potter, I’m not some delusional moron who thinks he can play hero. I have more realistic beliefs than that.

I arrived on the seventh floor. Taking a deep breath as I readied myself.

There is no such thing as heroes. Just like there is no such thing as good and evil. Only power and those to weak to seek it. I repeated the words of the Dark Lord in my head. Words that had been pushed upon me since I had learned to speak.

I turned around the corner, walking down the hallway that would lead me to the Room of Requirement.

In the real world, everyone is out for themselves. A person always has a motive, an agenda. No one cares, and no one is so stupid and selfless enough to be a hero. Though, you do come across the occasional Potter-esque morons who are delusional enough to try.

I arrived at the wall across from the stupid tapestry of trolls trying to learn ballet. My eyes glazing over as I clenched my jaw.

And even if there was such a thing as heroes, I’m not one. I’m not an idiot. I know I’m the villain of this piece.

I stepped forward, beginning to pace as I thought hard about the vanishing cabinet I was so desperate to repair.