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- The rosy pink that filled her cheeks sent a rush right through me. I could make Granger blush. -

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  When I had gotten Granger's last letter I was furious. How dare she tell me what I can and can't do. After all, what kind of power does a mudblood hold over a pureblood like me. I wrote three drafts that night which I had planned to send in the most obvious and visible way possible, so I could embarrass her right in front of her friends. The first would be sent with flowers, holding a note that said plainly, "Mudblood", the second would be delivered at breakfast, and would sing a stupid song to her like the one the Weasley girl gave Potter in my second year, and the third would've been a Howler that I would send at night that screamed at her how thick she was for writing me. In the end, I decided that I couldn't hurt her like that. Even though I was going to become a murderer by the end of the year, I still couldn't bear to know that I had hurt Hermione Granger in a manner even the Repairing charm couldn't mend.

  The last week before I would be sent on my way to commit a murder, was probably the longest week of my life. I kept writing imaginary letters to Granger in my head:

  Dear Hermione, Today I saw you in the window of Ollivander's. You look just as beautiful as the night of the Yule Ball in our fourth year. If Weasley and Potter weren't beside you and I wasn't with my mother, I would've run over to kiss you. I'm not sure you saw me, but that is alright since if you knew the real reason I was here, you would never talk to me again, nevertheless turn me into Professor Dumbledore, and, knowing you, the Ministry as well.

  It pained me to know that I would never be able to tell her these things. If I wanted her company during the last year I am innocent, I would have to pretend I have no idea what The Dark Lord plans.

  On the morning of the first of September, I kissed my mother goodbye on the cheek, and strutted onto the Hogwarts Express, tossing my luggage to whoever who catch and load it. I felt my pocket, checking to make sure the collection of Granger's letters were still safe in their magically concealed pocket. I smirked to myself, which caught a first-year by surprise and made him drop his wand. I rolled my eyes at the child and moved on, scouting the train for a remote spot to sit.

  The task was nearly impossible, but I managed. I directed Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, who I had collected on my search, towards one of the booths that was still empty. Fortunately for me, the surrounding booths were housed by my fellow Slytherins, so even if I slipped up and revealed something I shouldn't have, no one would pay any mind to it.

  "Your father Draco, a death eater," Pansy said.

  I snorted. Any witch or wizard with any brains would have figured that out by now, after all, it had been all over the papers in the recent months. I didn't answer her, which made her embarrassed, and rightfully so. If Father were here, he would strongly disapprove of anyone quite so dim to be in my common company. The irony is however, the only person in the entire school who had the quick-wittedness and courage that Father constantly talked about happened to be a mudblood.

  I waited for the treat trolley to roll past, and when I decided that conversing with the two dungbeetles was a proper waste of my time, I took the oppurtunity to act as though I forgot to buy something and really start my search for Granger.

  I didn't have to look far. Granger always sat with Potter and Weasley, and wherever Potter was, there were tons of fawning girls nearby.

  "Did you hear he took on four Death Eaters at once?"

  "He even battled You Know Who himself!"

  "He taught me everything I know about defensive magic, do you think he used some in the Ministry?"

  I shook my head and gritted my teeth. Disgusting. If these girls would look past the fantasy land they lived in, they would see who Potter really is. Arrogant and fame-hungry. But without him and his fan club, I wouldn't be able to have found Granger so easily.

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  I walked up to the door, smiling when I saw her. She only wore a sweater just like she had for the past five years, but just like every other time I saw her, she was the only light in the room. I chuckled to myself, fully admiring her, and I saw her blush. The rosy pink that filled her cheeks sent a rush right through me. I could make Granger blush.

  "Go away Malfoy," Weasley said to me. I snapped out of my trance, and back to the two boys in Granger's compartment.

  "I'll do what I want Weaselbee," I retorted, but I left anyway, winking at Granger before I vanished from her view. I didn't go very far though. I only left so they would restart their conversation. After all, I was very curious if Granger had told them about me at all.

  "D'you reckon he's one of them then?" Potter's voice resumed.

  "We don't know what we saw in Borgin and Burkes Harry," she responded. So she did see me. Not only that, she followed me. I couldn't help but smile, clever Granger.

  "Yeah, I know, but his father is one." My smile ceased. Potter is catching on and we haven't even gotten to Hogwarts yet. Had I really been that careless?

  Lucky for me, Granger saves the day, "He didn't know Harry,"

  "How do you know Hermione?" She was quiet. She hadn't told them about me yet. Will she ever?

  "What are you two on about?" Weasley joined in.

  Granger closed the book she was reading, annoyed, "Harry is under the impression that Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater." My name sounded so different in her voice than it did with anyone else's. With my father it was always a matter of scolding, my mother was caring, and it just sounded strange on everyone else, except for Granger. My name seemed like it was invented to form on her lips. Her voice sung it like a songbird in spring. I couldn't imagine anyone could best her, quite like most things she did.

  "You're barking," Weasley told Potter. I sighed. I had avoided another close call. I headed back to my booth with Pansy and Blaise and rejoined their very dull discussion about my father's downfall in the Department of Mysteries.

  Suddenly the whole train car went up in black smoke, startling the riders nearby. I jumped, not expecting it, but there were definitely scarier things than some first year dropping some joke product, no doubt from the bloodtraitor Weasley twins' new shop in Diagon Alley. There are far scarier things than some brief moments of blindness like darkness and suffering, pain and betrayal, failure and death. I was shrouded in the dark, smoky mist only for a few more seconds before the magic lifted.

  "What are you going to do Malfoy, now that the ministry is on your tail?" Blaise asked once we could see each other clearly again.

  "I've told my mother that we could go into hiding, but she wants me to finish my education. Personally, I don't see it as that important these days," I responded nonchalantly, still replaying the sound of my name in Granger's delicate voice.

  "What's that supposed to mean Malfoy?" Pansy questioned.

  "Well, The Dark Lord is not going to care how many O.W.L.'s you've recieved, just how devoted you are to his cause."

  They both nodded, accepting the truth in my statement, but then Blaise asked another question, "You speak as if you know Malfoy. Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified."

  That infuriated me. If Blaise had even the slightest drop of muggle blood, I would have lashed out harsher, but I kept my cool, "Speak for yourself Blaise. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you have to be qualified for." No wonder The Dark Lord entrusted me with this task, there isn't a single soul in this school who could even attempt at his task apart from myself.

  A slight movement above Blaise's head caught my attention. Above us, a suitcase seemed to move of it's own accord. Potter. I knew it had to be him, he is the only one suspicious of me. He was hidden under some kind of invisibility cloak. Of course I could have just been being paranoid, but after quarreling with Potter for going on six years, I couldn't think of a more Potter thing for him to do.

I was thankful for the silent ride the rest of the way to Hogwarts, as I didn't want to tell Potter anything more than what he had already heard, but I also didn't want to alert him to my knowing he was there either. Rage flared through me. What a prick. He always finds a way to making my life a hundred times more difficult. What's worse is I can't hurt him either. If I hurt him, I hurt Granger just as much. I clenched my fist and stared out my window for the rest of the long hour to the school.

When we arrived, I waited for all of the students in the car to leave and went over to the door to close it. As I approached the door, I saw Granger and Weasley looking around for Potter when she caught my eye instead. I stared longingly at her, wanting what I couldn't have, until Weasley ushered her out, glaring suspiciously at me. It didn't bother me that I had blown my cover on my infatuation with Granger. After all, I wanted her to pick me over Weasley anyway. What's the matter with playing some harmless games on Weasley's nerves. I smirked again, the idea of Weasley running around like a startled chicken trying to figure out if I have feelings for Granger or not. The thought was rather pleasing to me.

I was so lost in my daydream, that I almost forgot to deal with Potter. I shut the blinds on the car windows, and took out my wand.

"Didn't mummy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop Potter? PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Something large and heavy fell from above where Pansy, Blaise, and I were just sitting and onto the floor, making a satisfying thump. I smiled to myself, proud of my cleverness. Potter didn't suspect a thing. I reached a hand to where I had seen his body fall and felt a silk cloak covering a Potter-sized lump. I removed it and my sly grin grew larger when I saw his frozen face staring back at me.

I raised my foot and stomped on his face, breaking his nose, "That's from my father," I spat at him, "Enjoy your trip back to London." I dropped his cloak back over him and left the train, feeling rather smug with myself. Maybe I had what it took to complete The Dark Lord's will after all.