It had been a year since Lord Voldemort's return. Summer was ending, and the sixth year at Hogwarts was about to begin.

Gabriel had been absent for the entire season, as he was starting to have some leeway from his father.

After all, he had served him extensively throughout the year, keeping him updated on the evolution of the entire situation regarding Voldemort and his goal. He had spied on those mortals even within the school walls, unable to ignore the pathetic actions of the only one he knew inside, namely sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy. The boy had even allied himself with someone as despicable as Umbridge, a woman who had renounced her mother and brother, considering them weak because she was a Muggle and he was a Squib. An ignoble person, indeed. That year, his considerations about the platinum-haired boy had even worsened: he would become even more miserable than his father, it was now established.

This was what he had deduced from the unfolding events and then reported to his father, obviously not shying away from disrespectful comments towards the wretched family at the center of all that mire that would sooner or later implode. What actually surprised him was that his father hadn't sent him to Potter, the so-called "Boy Who Lived," who was expected to be the Savior of all wizards.

The one and only truth was that he still didn't feel part of that world, despite the time spent observing them. He didn't care at all about standing by their side; they were all infinitely predictable, especially the good ones with their sad stories that had shaped them. It was always the same old tune, and the villain was just a big villain who did nothing but surround himself with pathetic people, ready to flaunt their authority only over the weakest, but who obeyed like miserable little sheep under the watchful eye of their little master.

For this very reason, at that first summer party he attended, he was surprised not to see Draco in the crowd, boasting about the countless deeds accomplished at school, accompanied by the High Inquisitor who was giving him encouragement... even though, clearly, Potter and his little friends had come out on top. This they always conveniently forgot to mention, and not by chance: after Lucius's great failure, Voldemort had completely lost trust in him.

He looked around, wandering through the spacious halls of Malfoy Manor turned into a party venue. He couldn't deny they had at least some good taste, but money covered up many deficiencies.

He found Draco away from the crowd, sitting on a small two-seater sofa, positioned in front of a painting depicting the symbol of his family: a large white serpent with eyes that changed color with every movement, shining like precious stones. Its sinuous body wound around their name, printed on the canvas in cursive. Draco stared at it with clenched teeth and a tight grip on the armrest. He was visibly trembling, yet there was no chill in the air.

He approached him stealthily, hearing him take deep breaths. He glanced at that egocentric painting, then back at Draco. "Are you unwell, brat?" Draco jerked toward his interlocutor, eyes wide in astonishment. Despite it being summer, his body was entirely covered by clothing, up to his neck. He even wore silk gloves. Elegant, but certainly not suitable for the season.

"Disappear, filthy half-breed," he spat out with immense disgust. Gabriel was very surprised by this.

Normally, like his father, he didn't mind offering him false admiration or affection, even when they were alone... although it hadn't happened many times.

If he had to choose, he much preferred engaging with Lucius. After all, he was a shrewd and cutting man when he wasn't bowing ninety degrees for his Dark Lord. His son, on the other hand, seemed not to have inherited even those small sparks of noteworthy sagacity.

Certainly, however, no one had ever dared to address him in that manner... no one had dared, since he had revealed his nature. Not even Voldemort, who now behaved as if he didn't exist at the Death Eaters' meetings held at the Headquarters.

-You seem really angry, haven't they revealed to you that Potter will soon give some nice kicks to your royal blonde bottoms?- he teased, amused, but Draco's expression turned disgusted and dull. "Potter is the least of my concerns at the moment. Mind your own business, as always." And this time, he decided to leave, but found himself facing the Half-Demon, who tilted his head, observing him more attentively.

He wasn't one to relish in others' misery, even though those Malfoys provoked his wickedness, along with dear Voldemort. So he reached out towards Draco's arm, but saw him recoil from his touch, becoming quite agitated this time. "Did you hear what I said?! I order you to...!"

But the other one teleported them both into the platinum-haired youth's bedroom upstairs. White marble on the floor and dark green walls filled the space. The furnishings were in a classic style: the king-size bed dominated the room. Gabriel leaned against the closed door and barely moved a hand, undressing the young man and leaving him in his underwear.

Needless to say, he turned purple and yelled, "How dare you, you damned pervert?!" And he didn't seem entirely wrong since the other one just raised his eyebrows, stepping away from the door and starting to circle him. The boy was covered in bruises and healing wounds. He saw him go to look for something else to wear, rather than calling his daddy or mommy, but the wardrobe with mirrored doors seemed unwilling to obey him, and neither did the door when he tried to open it. The Dark Mark of the Death Eaters loomed on his arm.

The man moved his hand, returning to his previous position over him, as he heard him swear, "Damn it, you damned son of a bitch! Let me out!"

At that moment, the clothes returned to their place, dressing him again.

"What are they doing to you?" Gabriel asked from behind him, as Draco futilely tried to force open the candid door.

The man appeared very serious, noticed the blond when he turned around horrified, "What the fuck do you care?! Let me out!"

"No. Answer me."

Draco was visibly tired and worn out, considering the significant dark circles around his eyes, but the motionless figure of Gabriel, approached against the wall, did not seem affected by his condition.

"They're making me a true Malfoy."

"By beating you," the other commented, impassive, and the boy raised his chin, proudly.

"I will soon be worthy of my name... and of the great task entrusted to me. Now..."

"And what would this great task be, my new Master Malfoy?"

Draco opened his mouth, feeling it tremble, and then exhaled, "To kill Albus Dumbledore."

And Gabriel raised both eyebrows, unable to hold back a half-laugh. Obviously, that reaction reignited the fury of the handsome blond.

"Are you having fun, you filthy scum?! Who do you think you're talking to, huh?!"

Despite himself, he had to calm down because Gabriel's amused demeanor had disappeared, replaced by his deadly serious apple-green eyes. "And who do you think you're talking to, walking pimple?"

Draco swallowed and blushed, biting his tongue before letting out some other insult. Gabriel continued to stare at him with frost, then his figure softened, and he scrutinized the boy with perplexity. "I don't understand the correlation between the beatings and the killing of Albus Dumbledore," he replied calmly, sitting on the bed. The container in which the mattress was housed was covered in finely quilted silvery velvet.

"They're not necessarily connected. It's an idea from Vol... from the Dark Lord who doesn't see me as resistant enough," he said, looking away, indicating to Gabriel that he was lying.

"Oh, you mean he sees you only as a weakling who runs away from any situation of possible danger?"

Draco shot him a hateful look, and Gabriel let out another laugh. "It's certainly not with beatings that you'll become tougher, although perhaps... they're generating something different in you. You're... angry, and I don't think my snooping is the only reason. Am I wrong?"

"Before, I was happy. Now I'm not. Ergo, I'm pissed off," he needled, with a smirk that the other would gladly have slapped off his face. "You're quite witty, though," he added, with his usual sarcasm.

Gabriel ignored him, as he deserved. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

The young man frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, if your father allows Tom to kick you from morning till night..."

"It's certainly not him who deals with it, he has far more important things to do. He just gave the order, and my aunt went to town with it."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't very surprised. "Ah, his little whore, then... well, you should know..."

"Not just his..." The blond blurted out, then swallowed and immediately regretted it.

"Ah," Gabriel commented, carefully observing the boy's profile as he stared at the painting hanging above the steel headboard of his lavish bed. It was a copy of the one downstairs. Who knows what he was thinking...

"That detail was missing for me. I was convinced your father was faithful to your mother"

Draco didn't respond, and Gabriel, who had never had present parents, realized he had probably overstepped.

"That also makes you angry, I imagine," he continued.

"Today, very few things fail to make me angry. Everything is going to hell," Draco replied bitterly.

Gabriel nodded, aware of the situation. Indeed, the beautiful world he had been led to believe he lived in, and especially deserved... was falling apart, piece by piece.

"I would say I'm sorry, but there couldn't be anything further from the truth. People like you... deserve only this," he said very sincerely this time, managing to elicit a laugh from the boy, who was taken aback by that response. He turned to look at the man, who tilted his head slightly, smiling at him.

"Now you have to decide whether to continue being the person who deserves all this... or not, Draco. That's it," he said, perhaps too simplistically.

The lock clicked, signaling to Malfoy that he was free, but that didn't stop him from shooting a glare at his interlocutor. "What the hell are you blabbering about?! Have you forgotten that I have a mission?!"

"Well... missions, especially carried out against an enemy to whom you are not, and probably never will be, comparable, are very, very likely to fail. I doubt Voldemort thinks that you, my little peacock, can even scratch Albus Dumbledore. He's not exactly a frail old man, and you know that very well," the half-demon said, his words causing Draco to clench his teeth and fists, knowing them to be the harsh reality.

"That's true, but that doesn't mean I can refuse!"

"Oh, of course not. I did mention failure, after all."

"You know what happens to those who fail!"

"And you know that Lucius Malfoy's connections are still quite useful to Tom's cause. It's not in his best interest to kill you. If he's tormenting you, it's only to keep your father, who adores you, in check, although he can't exactly defy Voldemort's orders. Plus, this way, he can punish him for his recent failures."

"It's a pity that the first to enjoy inflicting his Cruciatus on me is him."

There, Gabriel had to widen his eyes and comment, "Double 'Ah.'"

Draco nodded, breathing heavily and trembling, then went to sit on his own bed, while Gabriel stood up, seeking his gaze.

"And, out of curiosity, how long have they been subjecting you to this 'manhood treatment'?"

"Every day since I was marked and tasked with killing Dumbledore. It started the week after you left."

Why was he revealing everything? Perhaps because a part of him hoped that the immortal creature would descend, kill them all, and leave him free to return to his beloved old life? If he had felt a little sorry for him, maybe he would have granted his silent wishes . For him, there was nothing more important than the freedom to live comfortably as the heir of the beloved Malfoy family.

"Every day, you undergo the Cruciatus Curse. For how long?"

"My father takes ten minutes, and my aunt takes fifteen, at least for now. They started with tortures of just over a minute. So I think they'll lengthen them as time goes on."

"Are the spells complete?"

"No, not yet. But when they start breaking my bones, don't worry, I'll inform you with a nice owl, since you seem so interested." And he even found the courage to give him a sardonic smile, in which all his frustration showed.

"How will they do it while you're at school?"

"I'll use a closet connected to Sinister Magics. Then I'll dematerialize here."

"With the risk of being seen?"

"They won't see me," Malfoy cut him off, then asked, "Is there anything else?" and stood up, ready to leave.

Gabriel pointed to the door. "You've been free to go for a while. What I wanted to tell you, I've already said. But it seems you didn't mind venting to me."

"Are you gloating? I thought we bored you."

"Until three-quarters of an hour ago, in a way you can't even imagine."

"And now?"

"Less. As long as you don't want to be just another sheep in the herd below. A golden sheep... but increasingly mangy."

And he gestured towards his bruised body. Draco stared at him harshly and replied with a note of indignation, "You don't know what it's like to have someone constantly threatening you, so at least refrain from judging."

"Some know and still oppose it. You should take an example, that's all I'm saying."

"Take an example from the Scarred!? Me!?" And he poured new sarcasm into laughing in his face. "Of all the things, I never thought you, half-blood, would be the one to make me laugh for the first time since they marked me. Goodbye!" And he left, returning to the party.

Author's Note: 

Hello everyone, girls! I'm not sure if the story is reaching other countries besides mine, I suspect not, but oh well XD. If anyone happens to pass by, I would be very happy to hear their first impressions of Gabriel and maybe of my Draco, even though you don't know him well yet XD See you soon!