‹ Prequel: The Dark Witch
The Return of the Dark Witch
Greatest Wizard
P.O.V – Draco Malfoy
My forearm burned. Nothing new, of course. I was used to the pain of the mark now. Per the Dark Lord’s orders, I was not to respond to it, however. My place being at Hogwarts for the time being.
I had been told that if there was ever a dire need of me that a more, direct, way with would be found. This knowledge did nothing to lessen the pain, in fact, it almost worsened it.
Uncomfortably, I adjusted myself, as Pansy continued to smooth out my hair in what, I assumed, she meant as a comforting gesture. Though she knew not, directly, my new path in life and I had no intention of informing her.
Pansy, like the rest of them, wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t possibly.
None of them had ever experienced the feeling of having their family held hostage. Knowing that they, and they alone, were responsible for their lives. That one wrong move on their part, could result in loved ones death. In short, they weren’t me.
If anything, they would agree with the Dark Lord, that we deserved it, that my family deserved. All because of my father’s blunder in failing to gain the prophesy. When really, only Harry Potter could be blamed. The wretched Harry Potter. The “chosen one” and the reason why the only two people I care about could meet their deaths if I so much look in the wrong direction.
I hate Potter, I thought furiously. Glaring at the ceiling above me, a portion of it almost looked like that disfiguring scar of his…
“Are you alright, Draco?” Asked Pansy, in that annoying high voice of hers, as she ceased stroking my hair, “Still upset about Blaise and that stupid new professor?”
I had actually forgotten about that. It’s not like it mattered to me. Slughorn was only good for setting you on a path in life, and it seems mine had already been chosen…
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Continued Pansy, resuming her task, “He probably just wasn’t aware you were on the train. I’m certain that the second he finds out, he’ll send for you and apologize for his idiocy. You’ll see.”
I’m sure that’s it, Pansy. I thought sarcastically. It couldn’t be that he’s just like the rest of them. Looking down his nose at me because of my father.
The name, Malfoy, used to command a certain respect. Now, due to ‘the boy who lived’ Potter, we’re no more than a laughingstock. Slughorn probably knew this, of course, why else would he not send for me?
He’ll regret it, one day though. One day soon, when I’m a great wizard, the one who finally defeated Dumbledore when many others had failed. He’ll look back upon this day, and think to himself that he could have chosen me. Could have picked me out of the thousands to be one of his select. Could have proudly claimed me as one of his own. Yes, I’ll ensure he always remembers this day as the day he let one of the greatest wizards of our time slip through his fingers.
Just then, the compartment door began to slide open, breaking my train of thought, as Zabini stepped through.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” He questioned angrily, as the door refused to slide shut...
My forearm burned. Nothing new, of course. I was used to the pain of the mark now. Per the Dark Lord’s orders, I was not to respond to it, however. My place being at Hogwarts for the time being.
I had been told that if there was ever a dire need of me that a more, direct, way with would be found. This knowledge did nothing to lessen the pain, in fact, it almost worsened it.
Uncomfortably, I adjusted myself, as Pansy continued to smooth out my hair in what, I assumed, she meant as a comforting gesture. Though she knew not, directly, my new path in life and I had no intention of informing her.
Pansy, like the rest of them, wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t possibly.
None of them had ever experienced the feeling of having their family held hostage. Knowing that they, and they alone, were responsible for their lives. That one wrong move on their part, could result in loved ones death. In short, they weren’t me.
If anything, they would agree with the Dark Lord, that we deserved it, that my family deserved. All because of my father’s blunder in failing to gain the prophesy. When really, only Harry Potter could be blamed. The wretched Harry Potter. The “chosen one” and the reason why the only two people I care about could meet their deaths if I so much look in the wrong direction.
I hate Potter, I thought furiously. Glaring at the ceiling above me, a portion of it almost looked like that disfiguring scar of his…
“Are you alright, Draco?” Asked Pansy, in that annoying high voice of hers, as she ceased stroking my hair, “Still upset about Blaise and that stupid new professor?”
I had actually forgotten about that. It’s not like it mattered to me. Slughorn was only good for setting you on a path in life, and it seems mine had already been chosen…
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Continued Pansy, resuming her task, “He probably just wasn’t aware you were on the train. I’m certain that the second he finds out, he’ll send for you and apologize for his idiocy. You’ll see.”
I’m sure that’s it, Pansy. I thought sarcastically. It couldn’t be that he’s just like the rest of them. Looking down his nose at me because of my father.
The name, Malfoy, used to command a certain respect. Now, due to ‘the boy who lived’ Potter, we’re no more than a laughingstock. Slughorn probably knew this, of course, why else would he not send for me?
He’ll regret it, one day though. One day soon, when I’m a great wizard, the one who finally defeated Dumbledore when many others had failed. He’ll look back upon this day, and think to himself that he could have chosen me. Could have picked me out of the thousands to be one of his select. Could have proudly claimed me as one of his own. Yes, I’ll ensure he always remembers this day as the day he let one of the greatest wizards of our time slip through his fingers.
Just then, the compartment door began to slide open, breaking my train of thought, as Zabini stepped through.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” He questioned angrily, as the door refused to slide shut...