Chapter Text
main character: Draco Malfoy
disclaimer: I do not own any person or situation from the Harry Potter books.
His father had done something to try to bring back the Dark Lord. Something involving a book and Ginny Weasley, and some sort of ghost or memory of a younger version of Voldemort. He wasn't clear on all the details, but that was what he'd pieced together from all the whispers and rumors from all the students.
He kept coming back to a few questions about the whole matter that just wouldn't go away. Why had he involved the Weasley girl? What had the book done? What exactly would have happened if his father's plan with the book had worked? Would there have been two Dark Lords? What would the plan have done to the girl?
The more he considered the questions, the less happy Draco felt. Ginny Weasley had been looking rather pale before Potter had saved the day again. She'd also seemed rather skittish, all nervous and jumpy like she was terribly upset about something. She'd looked like something was wrong, something terribly wrong and secret and possibly illegal... it reminded him of the children of some of his parent's associates.
The more he thought about things, the more he was forced to conclude that there had been something physically wrong with the girl. He couldn't think of any other possible cause for it than whatever plan his father had put into motion. So, he had been forced to conclude that his father's plan, a plan that had not been shared with him, would have either severely weakened her or maybe even killed her.
The Weasleys might be poor and have more relatives that any sensible family needed, but they were pure blood wizards. So, his father's plan had endangered a pure blood witch, possibly even considered her as expendable. How did killing a pure blood witch help the wizarding community? He could understand his father's argument that muggles or muggle born wizards were a threat to the history and traditions of the wizarding world, but... How would killing a pure blood help anything?
As near as he could figure, his father's plan would have resulted in a second version of the Dark Lord, a younger version that hadn't been weakened. There would have been two Voldemorts, and he didn't think that the younger would have been content as a follower of the older, original Dark Lord. He could only assume that it would have caused a power struggle, one resulting in pain, death and probably destruction.
Draco Malfoy couldn't see an advantage in that. He couldn't see anything other than chaos and trouble resulting from a second Voldemorte. Something that would most likely end up tearing the pure blood wizard families apart.
But why Ginny Weasley? Why had she been involved in this? She wouldn't have ever agreed to work with his father, especially not if it was supposed to help Voldemort. So, his father had somehow used her, somehow fooled her into actions that helped him.
He'd already known that his father was devious, and willing to use underhanded and shady methods to reach his goals, but... This just didn't sit right with him. It felt wrong, and unbalanced. It didn't sit right with his ethics, narrow range that that covered, and it didn't sit right with the ethics that his father had claimed to have. He didn't like the thought that his father had even less ethics than he'd professed to hold.
If his father was willing to sacrifice Ginny Weasley to raise a second Dark Lord, who else would he sacrifice? What would he sacrifice to strengthen Voldemort? Trained wizards? Wizard children? His own child?
He shivered as the thought slithered through his mind. Would his father sacrifice him to further his ambition? To gain power and influence? Everything that had been happening recently pointed towards 'Yes'.
If he couldn't count on his own family being predictable, what could he depend on? If his family's behavior wasn't predictable, then nobody's would be. He couldn't predict the behavior of his father's circle either, couldn't predict the less wealthy witches or wizards, not that he'd ever been good at figuring them out. He felt like his world was shifting around him.
It was an uncomfortable feeling. It made his feel nervous, like the world was spinning around him, as if he was caught in a whirlpool. Things that he'd thought were immutable constants were turning out to be insubstantial as clouds.
The whole thing was making his stomach tangle into cold knots. He felt cold, and his skin prickled. Nothing was the same as he'd thought it was. Nothing seemed secure anymore.
And there was nobody that he could possibly ask about this. Who could he talk to, after all? The other Slytherins were at the very least sympathetic to ideas of grabbing power, disapproving of muggle born witches. A lot of them were children of the Dark Lord's supporters, and many planned to become his supporters when they were old enough. He certainly couldn't talk to them about discovering that his father had no ethics.
The teachers? That was laughable in itself, the only one who seemed to not disapprove of him was Snape, and he might have been one of Voldemort's supporters as well.
Nobody... a flash of red caught his eyes. Red hair... Potter and Granger and Weasley walked by. Weasley... maybe he could talk to the Weasley girl, find out what had happened?
Except that she wouldn't have anything to do with a Slytherin in general, much less him in specific.
He had too many uncomfortable questions. And the answers that he had didn't help at all.
end Questions in White.