Draco Malfoy's Dirty Little Secret

EVELYN'S P.O.V.

Draco and I continued our escapades in the Room of Requirement. We'd struggle on the stupid cabinet for an hour or two, then take a well needed break. We never got much work done on our mission. The random beds and couches that Draco kept making appear were much too distracting. He insisted that when we got back from holiday he'd know how to fix it. I hoped he was right.

On December 15th, two days before we were to go home for Christmas, I told him about my mission for Dumbledore. Care to take a guess at his reaction?

"No! Absolutely not! I refuse to let you spend the end of your holiday in that filthy, pathetic excuse of a home! Those blood traitors will poison your fucking mind! You'll smell like their hovel for weeks! It'll contaminate you!"

The evil comments continued for nearly twenty minutes. When he was out of insults, he sat down on a couch next to me and hung his head in his hands.

"It's not like I chose this, Drake. It was all Dumbledore's idea, and Severus cleared it with the Dark Lord before I even knew about it. I don't have a choice. Besides, don't you want me away from him as soon as possible? I mean, you know, after all he will have put me through..." I let my voice drift off into silence.

"Evelyn, Love. You know I don't want you to be subjected to that torture at all. It's just," he sighed, "If you're at the Burrow, I can't protect you. I won't be near you to make sure you're safe at all times. It'll be torture not being with you for a week."

I nodded in agreement. I understood what he was saying, but I still wanted to go to the Burrow. I wanted to see what Harry was really like; to be safe from You-Know-Who for a while.

"Don't worry, Draco, I'll spend every second with you I can at the Manor. Then, when we get back to Hogwarts, I promise I'll stay by your side constantly to make up for my absence."

"Okay," he caved, "I still don't like this."

"It's one week. They won't completely corrupt me into a muggle loving piece of trash in just seven days."

"That doesn't mean they won't try," Draco objected.

"They may try, but they won't succeed. What kind of Slytherin would I be if I gave in to their beliefs?"

He smirked at me.

"You grow into more of a Malfoy every day," he commented.

"I try," I said and returned his smirk.

"Now, about that break we were taking," he whispered, pulling me close to him.

---

Today was the day. December 17th. Christmas holiday. Return to the Manor. The day I began the mission from Hell, as Draco had come accustomed to calling it.

I strode into Malfoy Manor, escorted on the arm of my "father" Steven Zabini. He was swelling with pride. I struggled to project that sort of glow, but came up slightly short. Lucius was more than eager to point out my flaw.

"My dear, Evelyn," he said, feigning innocence, "Are you not excited to begin your mission?"

"Oh I'm absolutely riveted, Lucius," I beamed, "Thank you for asking."

"Hmmph," he muttered with content at my graceful response.

"Draco," he ordered, "Take Evelyn up to the very top floor. She will be staying in the Red Room for her duration here at the Manor."

Draco's jaw tightened and his teeth clenched. I'd never been in the Red Room, let alone on the top floor. Actually, no one had been on the top floor in ages. Not since Draco's uncle committed suicide there before we were born. No. The top floor was forbidden.

"But that room is known for death. Her m-," Blaise murmured to Lucius in shock.

"Yes, well," Lucius interrupted Blaise, "I guarantee you that Evelyn will not die. Just her innocence will," he smirked, self satisfied.

I fought a smile. Oh how wrong he was. I'd made sure to get rid of that before coming here. It was the one thing that the Dark Lord couldn't take from me, the one part that would be forever Draco's.

Draco obediently grabbed my trunk and led me up to the very top floor. Lucius made him do it, not because he lived here, but because of his attachment to me. The fact that he was leading me to my horrifying fate made Draco's blood boil. Lucius knew this. What a lovely, charming man he was.

The Red Room was located at the end of a long, dark hallway. The door was black, and splattered with red paint?

"It's blood," Draco warned as I reached to touch the red splatters. I withdrew my hand quickly, as if the door had bitten me.

"Blood from who?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Evelyn, let's not talk about this," he groaned, whilst placing my trunk at the end of a large bed with black, silk sheets.

The Red Room was entirely black. Very small, very dark, no windows. The only light was a small, blue flame emitting from a black torch on the wall. The bed was black, the dresser was black, the doors, the carpet, everything was black. The only evidence of another color was the deep red, which stained the walls in random spurts.

I gazed at the wall farthest from us.

"More blood?" I asked Draco.

"Yes," he replied shortly.

"Draco? Why won't you tell me whose blood this is?" I whispered.

He sighed and crossed the floor to where I was standing.

Draco took my hands in his and looked me straight in the eyes. His blue eyes pierced my green ones as he spoke. Though that sensation was nothing compared to the lurching of my stomach.

"Delilah Krawson," he took a deep breath, "Your mother."

I gasped and began to feel lightheaded. Draco held me steady as my knees threatened to buckle. The room was spinning.

"I can't stay here," I pleaded, "Please, Draco."

"You have to, Evelyn. You have no other choice," he whispered.

"What happened to her?" If I had to stay in this room, I needed to know what my mother went through.

"The Dark Lord, he-"

"Has arrived," Voldemort's voice hissed, cutting Draco off.

"That will be all, Draco. Leave us now," he commanded.

Draco made to leave, but I clutched his hands tightly in mine. I begged him with my eyes not to leave me. He didn't. At least, not until the Dark Lord put the Imperious Curse on him; kicking him out, and locking the door.

"Now, Evelyn," he began. His voice was harsh and shrill, almost mocking in a sense. I knew what was coming.

"I believe we have some work to do."

I backed away from him as he advanced on me. I didn't want him to touch me. He grinned at my feeble, useless attempts at escape. After amusing himself by scaring me for a few minutes, he casted the Imperious Curse on me. It took nearly an hour for my will power to die out, but that curse was so tiring, so seductive.

My mind wasn't strong enough. My magic was too weak to repel his.

I gave in. And faced the most excruciating torture of my life.