Lumos

19| The Blond Boy

Draco Malfoy was a boy with platinum blond hair and silvery grey eyes. He was slightly taller than the average kids his age, and had a knack for getting others in trouble, even though most of the time, he was the one to blame. He was stuck-up and called others names depending on the type of blood that flowed through their veins. He was rude and cruel and horribly annoying. And his father, of course, was a Death Eater-another downside.

But most of all, he was a boy with absolutely no heart. He could look you in the face and tell you something that could destroy your entire life. He hated Harry Potter and his two friends more than he hated mudbloods themselves.

Then one day, something came along. Something that scared a missing heart back into place . . . the left side of his chest. Something that terrified him to the point where it chased away his mocking laughter and cold, cruel smirk, replacing it with a look of agonizing fear.

He was back.

Voldemort, once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Dark Lord, the one who was defeated by a mother's love for her child. He was back solely to take his revenge, sucking everyone along into his darkness as he went, including the boy with the blond hair and silver eyes: Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

Four years ago.

"Let's play a prank on Filch," Draco Malfoy said to me.

"We'll get in trouble," I said with a shake of my head, but he wasn't one to listen.

"Have you ever heard of Fluttering Fog Bombs? They fly and land on the target and explode, sending putrid surges of stink everywhere. And guess what?"

"What?"

"I've got 'em." He grinned maliciously. So we hid and waited, and waited, and waited for Filch.

Mrs. Norris was the first one to appear. Then came Filch, close behind, lantern in hand. He was looking for student out of bed late so he could get someone it trouble.

"Ready?" the blond boy asked me. I nodded.

He threw the small, snot-green balls towards Filch and they stuck to him, exploding.

"Run!" Malfoy shouted, running in the opposite direction. I ran after him, laughing. Behind us, Filch was yelling, trying to get the smelly things off him so he could catch us and turn us in. Unfortunately, we were faster. Even Mrs. Norris got left behind. I got a whiff of the scent and nearly gagged, clapping my hands over my face.

"That was great," Malfoy said with a smirk, catching his breath as we stopped around a corner, three levels above where we left filch . "That squib deserves what he gets. He's worse than the lot of them."

"You say that every time, but do you know how horrible you are?" I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms over my chest. "What if you become the next Dark Wizard, like Voldemort or something?"

Draco Malfoy's face went paper white. "Don't say his name." All traces of laughter were gone and he stomped away, reasonably mad at me.

Now.

A dark fog fell over Hogwarts two nights after Draco Malfoy told me I didn't belong in Slytherin, but could see why I was picked there. Or had it been the other way around?

I sat in bed, picking up the Marauder's map.

"Lumos," I whispered, flicking my wand. A tiny beam of light appeared, letting me read the map. Draco was in the boy's dormitories, in his own bed. Hermione and Ron were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, for reasons unknown.