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- "Sectumsempra!" It felt like a sword had sliced me into pieces. -

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Every minute of free time I had was spent trying to mend the cabinet. I went through at least a dozen birds before one came back alive. It was improvement, however it later died from blood loss as it had been splinched. There was four months remaining in my timeline and I couldn't even get a simple bird through a vanishing cabinet without causing its death. After several more attempts, I felt like I could relate to the birds who had fallen victim to me. Their freedom and innocence was stolen from them by being pawns of another's plan.

I was just a pawn in a game of chess. Expendable. Replaceable. All The Dark Lord cared about was is own preservation and personal power. He was just using me to punish my father. He gave me a task he knew I couldn't complete just to rip my family apart. I hated him for it. My hatred stretched deep within me. I have done evil things for him, changed myself for him just so I could save my own life. In less than a year, I have almost killed two classmates, used an illegal curse on a witch, and heartlessly ended the lives of an entire flock of birds. Who had I become?

Every night as I looked into the mirror, it was less and less easy to identify myself. When I saw my hands, I saw them stirring a deadly poison. I saw them handing an innocent girl a cursed package. I saw them lifting the bodies of birds out of the cabinet and tossing them into an ever growing pile. These hands are the same monstrous ones that gently caress Granger's cheek in the wee hours of the morning. The same hands that caught a snitch in quidditch for a Slytherin victory. These hands have written tirelessly on infinite essays to prove to their father that they were worthy of his praise.

Every time I picked up another bird, its blood staining my skin, I felt more and more like a monster than a person.

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One evening, I walked into the Great Hall for dinner when I noticed a returned face. Bell. She was catching up with her friends when Potter approached her. I froze, staring at the scene that was playing out in front of my face. Potter knew, I was sure of it. He sat back down with his friends, then all three of them, Potter, Weasley, and Granger, turned to see me standing like ice in the entrance of the Great Hall.

Disbelief was on Weasley and Granger's faces. Potter was less than impressed. I felt a searing mouthful of regret pile in my mouth. Even when I swallowed it, it kept pushing me under the water, drowning me. I did the only thing that I could think of, I ran.

I moved briskly down the corridors, trying to find a safe place to collapse. The boys bathroom was empty so I entered. My vest felt too tight all of a sudden as my sadness erupted through me. I stripped it off as my body lost all ability to stand. I gripped on the sink in front of me for support, hoping that it was enough to ground me. When I glanced up into the mirror hung above my sink, I saw the boy inside of me. The boy that I had ruthlessly murdered. The boy that was never coming back. In his place was a creature that even the Forbidden Forest was afraid of, a creature so heartless that he would injure others to protect himself. In his place was a creature of pure darkness.

I let the sobs come. The sobs that I had never had the courage to let myself feel. My arms shook as I cried the unrelenting sadnesses. I didn't hear their footsteps, otherwise I would have concealed my sorrows under my skin again, but I heard their voice.

"Draco," it was soft and understanding, warm and forgiving. I whirled around. Hermione. "I know," her voice broke.

I didn't say anything and I didn't have anything to say. My tears had already dried up, but the emptiness was still there. She knew. She knew about my dark mark, the unwavering pledge I gave to The Dark Lord. She knew about the necklace, the cursed jewelry I handed off to Katie Bell in the bathroom corridor of The Three Broomsticks. She knew about the wine, the poisoned drink Weasley had succumbed to. She knew, but still, she was here.

Nothing was said between us, and nothing was needed. We both stood face to face with each other. Enemies. The enemy that we love more than ourselves. She couldn't love me anymore, yet she still cared, and I couldn't let her, yet I still wanted her. I wanted her more than anything. I wanted her almost as much as I wanted my life. My life and my family's lives. Unfortunately for Granger and I, my family would always come first.

Potter broke our silence. He stormed in, "I know what you did Malfoy."

"No Harry!" Hermione protested, jumping between us, "No! You don't understand!"

Her attempt was noble, but Potter was blinded by rage, "Out of the way Hermione!" he shouted as he shoved her aside. He shot a non-verbal spell at me, but I dodged it and, in retaliation, I sent one his way. Hermione dove behind one of the stalls on the left side of the bathroom while Potter and I hid on opposite ends of the right side.

I lay on the floor, preparing for his feet to emerge as a perfect target. Instead of his feet, his head popped into view. I shot another spell at his scarred forehead and missed, exploding the toilet next to him. The same happened for his spell.

Shots like this were exchanged for many minutes as Hermione was screaming at us to stop. Eventually, she emerged, sending protection charms between the two of us. This distracted both Potter and I, but we still were firing shots at one another and Granger was having a hard time keeping up.

One of Potter's spells finally hit me. For this one, he yelled a incantation that I hadn't heard before, "Sectumsempra!" It felt like a sword had sliced me into pieces. My face, my chest, and both of my arms were writhing in pain. I screamed in tortured agony and fell to the floor. The floor had been flooded from all the pipes we had bust and it stung against my open wounds.