Forbidden

Chapter One: Draco's Darkest Desires

The panic from Dumbledore's death had seemed to calm down in the Wizarding World, back into a simmer of anger. Harry Potter had told the World that Voldemort was back, and that Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were to blame for the renowned wizard's death.

Snape was highly disappointed in Draco, and was lecturing him on a scorching July day. Pansy Parkinson was there, sitting beside her boyfriend, but listening intently to the older man. Draco, however, wasn't paying a lick of attention to either of them.

He was thinking about Harry Potter. He'd seen the look on his face when Dumbledore had gone over the edge of the Astronomy Tower out of the corner of his eye. It seemed as if Potter had just appeared out of nowhere. The look of horror on his face haunted him. He had looked back many times when Snape was dragging him away, only to see Potter trailing them, absolutely furious.

Why had he agreed to any of this in the first place...?

Then he remembered his mother and father. And Voldemort threatening to kill them if he wouldn't do something for him. Hell, knowing the Dark Lord, his parents were already dead...His mother splayed on the carpet of Malfoy Manor, eyes open in shock from the Avada Kedavra charm...His father struck dead in Azkaban, forever to stay in the stink of that prison...

He was overcome with a chilling sense of dread, an innumerable sense of loss. His jaw clenched and he showed no weakness, but horror tore at his insides like some monster raging, anxious to get out.

For once in his life, he sort of knew how Harry Potter felt. He felt overwhelmingly ashamed of all the times he'd insulted his classmate. He was such an idiot, so full of himself that he didn't think about anyone else. He could thank his father for that.

"Draco, are you listening to me?" came the cold, smooth voice of Severus Snape through his musings. Draco looked into his eyes and shook his head.

"No, Professor," Draco said honestly.

"Draco, I'm not your professor anymore," Snape said silkily, "and I'd advise that you listen to me."

"I'm sorry...Snape," he said, with great effort not to call him "Professor," as he had for the six years previous.

"Is something troubling you, Draco?" Snape asked in a soft voice.

"Just thinking of Mother and Father is all," Draco said; he was unable to keep the deep trace of sadness etched in his voice. "I don't know what's going to happen to them now that I failed. I never meant to fail."

"I understand your worry, Draco, but you must listen to me," Snape said, his voice slightly insistent.

"I can't help it!" Draco snapped. "How would you feel if the Dark Lord threatened to kill your family and you had no idea whether or not he's actually done it yet or not?!"

"Draco, calm down," Snape said, placing a hand on his shoulder, but Draco pulled away, standing up.

Draco cursed violently, spitting the words out. "Why did Father have to be so stupid? Why'd he have to get himself caught? Why did Mother ask you to come intervene anyway? Stupid Unbreakable Vow...I hate you, I hate you all!" he shouted, running out of the house on Spinner's End, just a streak of black and blonde.

Snape sighed and looked at Pansy, who looked shell-shocked. She finally processed what was going on and she ran out after her boyfriend.

"Draco!" she shouted, but Draco was nowhere to be seen. He had Apparated out of sight.

Draco was on his way to London. He didn't know why he wanted to go to London, but he had the irresistible pull to go to London. When he landed on the streets in front of the Leaky Cauldron, he leaned against the brick wall and sighed, his head hitting the brick hard. He winced but did nothing more.

He found himself thinking of Harry Potter again. He asked himself again why he was thinking of that Mudblood-lover. Famous Potter and all his glory for defeating the Dark Lord. Famous for his god-awful scar.

Harry would understand how he felt about losing his family...

He thought about it and realized...he'd never once had a decent conversation with the other boy...who was now a man. Something struck him. He'd blindly hated Harry Potter for six years. Draco had never even gotten to know him. He frowned.

Why all the sudden thought about Potter? He pushed it out of his mind and walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He'd walked through, into Diagon Alley when Harry popped up again, and the thought made him full-out blush.

His hand went to his cheek. That was the kind of thing he'd only seen in his dreams. He'd never even thought about that in the daytime. It was a dreadful thought, a deep, dark desire he'd never told anyone. Draco would never let anyone know that kind of desire. He was glad no one used Occlumency on him. He glanced down and was thankful his robes were loose. His cheeks were still burning.

"Damn it, Potter," he growled as he walked past the boarded-up shops in Diagon Alley. He felt rather ashamed of his affiliation with all this death and destruction. He touched the boarded window of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and sighed. All this for the Dark Lord. He was beginning to wonder if it were worth it.