The Whole Nine Yards

Chapter Eleven - Draco Potter's Journal - Death Eater Material

- Draco Potter's Journal -

I almost became a Death Eater.

No one knows that. Not even Harry.

It was the end of the summer before Harry and I got together. I was in my room at the Manor when a house elf informed me that my father 'required my presence' in his office.

As soon as I entered the room I knew something was wrong. There was someone else there...Voldemort. He gazed at me appraisingly and then nodded. My father let out the breath he'd obviously been holding and sent me away with a piercing glance.

I knew from that glance that if I did anything to humiliate him when I was 'initiated', then I would be beaten to within an inch of my life.

As soon as I was out of hearing range I ran to my room and locked myself in. A futile gesture I know since 'alohomora' would open the lock in an instant but it made me feel better.

I ran into my bathroom and threw up. I knew what that nod meant. I was acceptable. I was going to be forced to become a Death Eater. I knew then that I didn't want to be one. In the instant that it took for Voldemort to nod, I knew that I could never be a Death Eater.

Before that I was ambivalent. Actually that's not true. When I was younger, I really wanted to be one. I was desperate to be a Death Eater. I remember how much I pissed people off with my constant hero worship of my father and the Death Eaters.

I finally grew up and realised that I didn't really care either way. I probably would have become a Death Eater, just for something to do. What were my other options, really? With the Malfoy name, no one else would want me, especially not the Ministry of Magic. Since Voldemort had returned at the end of my fourth year and had made his presence felt, he had required my father's input on a full time basis, so father had quit the Ministry. Actually he hadn't quit, he'd helped Voldemort attack the Ministry and had left in a blaze of fire.

So, I was throwing up in my bathroom and I realised that in four days time I was due to board the Hogwarts Express and return to school. If I could think of a way to stall them for a few days, then I could get out of it. But my father would see through that. He would know what I was trying to do.

I sat down on the tiled floor and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my robe. Things were rapidly getting out of control. It was mid-afternoon so I probably had until nightfall to plan my escape.

I ran through my options:

Okay, so I just had to get out of the house, out onto the road where I could summon the Knight Bus. Right. Okay then. Easier said than done.

I packed what I considered to be the bare essentials - a few muggle clothes, school books and equipment, my entire collection of pictures of Harry cut out of magazines, broom, and my wand of course.

Anyway, I packed my trunk and then magically reduced it to fit in my pocket, so father didn't think I was running away. I cautiously unlocked my door and crept downstairs. I could hear my father in his office grovelling to Voldemort still so I steered well clear of there. My mother was shopping in Paris so I didn't have to worry about running into her.

I made it to the front door when my father suddenly appeared. I swear, I thought I was going to have a heart attack right then and there.

He asked me where I was going, and I said I was just going for a walk. He stared at me for a moment before simply telling me not to be long.

I walked down to the gates, every second expecting someone to come charging after me and demand to know why I was heading to the gates.

I managed to slip through the gates and had summoned the Knight Bus when someone yelled. It was my father. I stood on the bus and watched him run down the road towards me.

Finally the bus started moving and he disappeared from sight. I made it to the Leaky Cauldron where I had to explain my underage use of magic but when I told my story (well, only what had happened that day, they didn't need to know the rest), the Ministry officials quickly informed Dumbledore who convinced the Weasley's to take me in for the last four days of the summer holidays (where, as luck would have it, Harry was also staying).

I had a narrow escape...which I was all the more thankful for when Harry and I got together. He would never have wanted me if I had an ugly black tattoo on my wrist.

Unfortunately, when Voldemort was finally defeated in our sixth year at school, it was deemed safe to send me home to Malfoy Manor for the summer holidays. This was when my father began to gather support from the remaining Death Eaters.

It was my own fault though. If I had told the whole story then, then no one would have made me go home to that monster. But I can barely talk about it now, so there was no way I could have voiced my fears back then.

~ Godric's Hollow ~

Draco sat on the couch in their living room, his legs folded beneath him, and watched as Harry read more of his journal. He knew what Harry was reading. It was the Death Eater Part. Draco twisted his fingers and felt a twinge of regret that he had ever given Harry the journal.

Harry glanced up and caught Draco's eye. He smiled. A genuine, I-love-you-no-matter-what smile. Draco smiled back. Harry knew everything now. The rest of the diary was just an extension of what Harry had already read. It was the Death Eater Part that had worried him but Harry seemed to be okay with it.