At Hogwarts, it was late October and Draco was now ready for his first assassination attempt, although Voldemort had not at all specified "how" this was supposed to happen. In those months, his father and aunt had not held back with the Cruciatus Curse: the timings had stretched out and his body now suffered from a state of constant pain. He avoided being seen around as much as possible; the last thing he wanted was to hear Potter and his little friends laughing while they highlighted how many Death Eaters had been imprisoned the year before.

His father had narrowly escaped prison, but only thanks to the precious contacts he had cultivated over the years. His failure, to Voldemort, had become unforgivable so, unable to kill him, he had found a way to punish him... by putting his heir in grave danger. By now, for Lucius Malfoy, he was nothing but this. The days of the affectionate attentions he used to receive were over; there was no longer any glimmer of love towards him, only the depraved desire to shape him while he heard him scream with each cruel thrust of his wand.

That Saturday night, he returned to the cold and damp room he occupied alone, a comfort that the title of Prefect allowed him to have. Of course, they could have made the environment more pleasant, considering his status, but it was well known how little consideration the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress had for Slytherins. Located in the underground tunnels of the castle, the room had small windows set high in the walls near the ceiling. The light that entered was therefore very dim, almost non-existent at night. He decided to light a candle, but was taken aback when he saw Gabriel occupying the one-and-a-half bed. He hadn't seen him since the previous month.

"Damn it, you're here again," he noticed disgustedly, starting to undress and moving towards his own bathroom, the only positive note: it was his and no one else's. He reflected in front of the wide mirror above the ceramic sink, where there were swirls that resembled the sinuous shape of a serpent and, like the creature itself, moved along the edge. He felt a new wave of pain as he noticed how badly his body had actually been battered, even that night. Long superficial wounds were visible on his skin.

"I was wondering if they reached the bone, to this day."

Draco had started running the water, waiting for it to warm up so he could dab himself with one of the green towels provided by the school. In the meantime, he replied, "I said I'd send you an owl. You can also disappear."

Gabriel didn't respond, but waved his hand towards the fireplace, which suddenly burst into flames.

When Draco returned to his room, he noticed first the flames that animated it and then the intruder still present, playing with the pack of cigarettes he had left on the bedside table. He snatched it from his hands, annoyed, and insisted, "Do you want to leave!? I need to sleep, damn it!" he shouted, showing him the aggression he had been harboring in those weeks. Lightening the mood with warmth had served no purpose.

"You'll get into trouble if you keep this up." And the Half-Demon stood up, sitting on the worn-out desk, observing him kindly.

"I already told you to mind your own business."

"You still have time to make a different choice, Draco. Perhaps... you can truly be the linchpin capable of changing the history of the wizarding world."

The blonde snapped at him, furious. "Enough with this nonsense!? Will you stop tormenting me!? I know perfectly well what I want and how to get it! Voldemort must kill Potter, this way, with the new regime, the Death Eaters will reign supreme!"

Gabriel looked the boy straight in the eyes: he seemed convinced of his position. He nodded coldly and stepped down from the table. "I understand, Draco. You have decided to be yet another sheep, even though they are showing nothing but contempt for you. I don't understand you, but it's clear that we're much further apart than I thought."

He looked rather disappointed, which left Draco speechless, especially with the last sentence.

"I won't bother you anymore, don't worry." After that cold remark, Gabriel began to fade out of the school walls. His heightened powers allowed him to move in and out of the castle's protections freely, but only because these were accompanied by peaceful intentions.

"But what do you think you're doing here? Coming to lecture me? To seek a person who doesn't exist, Gabriel?!" Malfoy burst out, unable to hold back.

"You're wrong," the other countered, offering him a meaningful glance. "I'm just observing you closely, Draco. You're changing: your hatred, once directed at Potter, is shifting towards your family, especially towards Voldemort. And don't tell me it's not true, it's written all over your face."

Draco clenched his fists, overcome by the anger that had been brewing and growing in him over the past few months.

"You know I'm the only one you can talk to, and that's because you know whose side I'm on. Nobody likes tyrants, much less one like Tom"

Draco ran his hands through his hair, pulling it back and beginning to breathe anxiously. Gabriel watched him pace back and forth in the room, consumed by panic. The dark floor creaked with each step.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for some sort of revelation to emerge and hoping it would be sensible.

"And so let's suppose that... that I want take revenge at all those damned Death Eaters: my father, my aunt, and that bloody egghead! Huh? What can I do with... with this?!" He gestured to himself, looking at Gabriel challengingly, and Gabriel smiled faintly.

"I could train you... but you can't even think of opposing them alone, Draco. Potter and his friends are all in the mix."

Malfoy shook his head without even thinking and let out a sarcastic laugh as he waved a finger in front of him in denial. "Ah, no... it's not even thinkable. There won't be any universe where I, Draco Malfoy, will join them! Never!" His mind desperately searched for an alternative option. "I have to kill Dumbledore, I have no choice."

"Do you envy him so much, Draco?" Gabriel then asked, now curious. "Yet, you've had much more than him. Can you tell me what you feel you've missed in these years? Except for this recent period, of course." And finally, he saw him blush.

"Envious!? What the hell are you talking about? He's just a silly orphan who miraculously survived a curse cast by the most terrible and powerful wizard of all!"

"It's the truth," confirmed Gabriel, barely laughing and nodding. "But you don't believe it at all. Do you think, then, it's worth more?"

The blond's unpleasant remark went unnoticed by the half-demon, who continued, "Perhaps... because he has surrounded himself with people who would truly give their lives for him. Different from the cowards you grew up with. Is this the envy you feel? The compassion it has aroused in all those who have known him and who now follow him as if he were their leader?" he asked insistently.

Draco's eyes sparked with renewed resentment towards the half-demon. "It's all bullshit."

"And for being a well-behaved gentleman, you sure use a lot of foul language."

"What do I care..." retorted the other, reaching for his flask. Alcohol made him feel less pain.

"You drink and smoke at sixteen, you want to ruin your health?"

"Maghs have no repercussions, they're magical. Alcohol dulls the pain, besides helping me sleep," he justified himself, annoyed by the lectures that the half-demon was allowing himself to give him.

"Yes, I know you have nightmares every night, but as I've told you, I would make things easier for you. I certainly can't turn you into a half-demon, but with my training, the anger and suffering you're experiencing would be converted into abilities and clarity of thought, to then be catalyzed into something good and useful."

"I will never join Potter and his entourage." He shuddered, continuing disgustedly, "Those Weasleys... not to mention the Granger."

And Gabriel shrugged, finding his excuses rather childish. "Well yes, the redhead is just an impulsive dumb... but she, she's brilliant. I must admit that."

The other let out a snort of disdain in response.

"You're so terrified at the thought of your life really changing, if you were to join them and kill Tom? You would become no less famous than Potter and certainly no less loved, because the villain who turns to the side of good always becomes the favorite in history."

"There isn't and never will be any story. I won't join them, so make peace with it."

Gabriel listened and stared at him, then watched as Draco raised his silvery eyes to him, narrowing them. "Do you want me to repeat it again?! Why don't you come up with another idea to kill him instead? You could teach me and help me during the fight! Maybe protecting me from his attacks! Then I'd be the one getting rid of him, and guess who would become the new Savior of the Wizards?" He pointed to himself, smiling broadly, after spilling out that stream of ideas that seemed so brilliant to him... and no less convenient.

"You won't have any shortcuts, Draco. I would want you to become the man that, deep down, you know you want to be." Draco flushed once again, widening his eyes, as Gabriel concluded, "But it's only by setting aside the teachings that have been instilled in you by people who value you so little, that you can truly succeed."

He watched him sit on his own bed, experiencing new tremors and jolts of pain: the mattress was as solid as a board, he didn't envy the nights he spent in that little room at all.

Silence fell. But Gabriel wasn't intending to leave.

"You know how I am, Gabriel. You know I'm not that powerful, but I doubt you hate me so much, since... you tell me certain things. No one has ever spoken to me like this," he confided, lifting his face and showing him his bloodshot eyes.

Gabriel couldn't help but feel a wave of empathy for him. "Because you've never really known friendship, Draco."

"If you were my friend, you'd help me."

"That's what I would like to do, and you know that only one way would truly benefit you for the rest of your life. You would mature."

"Aligning myself with Potter and his gang," Malfoy concluded, pursing his lips, weary at the mere thought.

"Exactly, although it won't happen soon. First, you need to become useful to their cause, and right now, aside from being a shield for the torture that awaits Potter and his friends, you're just a nuisance. I imagine you'll still be one afterward, but at least you can help them."

Draco nodded weakly, agreeing with him but feeling the agitation now passed. It had been a long time since he had felt so calm and relaxed.

"You're pushing me towards a precipice, friend."

"You're already in that precipice, Draco. I've just thrown you a rope. It's up to you to grab it and use it; postponing won't help you. You need to understand that Potter and his friends are crucial to defeating Voldemort. Potter, Dumbledore, and Granger above anyone else. They will have the most weight on the scale; everyone else will have relatively little importance, in my opinion."

"So, all I have to do is pretend to kill the headmaster."

Gabriel let out a laugh. "Why? Were you serious?" he asked incredulously, and Draco shot him a glare. "Draco, there isn't enough trust between us to give me the power to change your mind. If you just did it... it's because you had already thought of it yourself, and I just forced you to say it. You envy all the love those brats have gotten, so... make sure you don't deserve any less," he hissed, now leaning closer to him, with an eloquent expression. Draco blinked and swallowed, watching him straighten up and continue convincingly, "When you do get it, everyone will know it was all your doing, something Potter can never claim, given the pity his situation generates in people who meet him," he pronounced with a high level of cynicism... perhaps even worse than his, as he was very serious. There was no malice in his eyes, only strong conviction.

That last comment left Draco with a strange sensation. At that moment in his life, he felt like an orphan, and as much as understanding Potter was far from him, he could never think that being an orphan, and therefore a magnet for the love of strangers, was worth or, worse, better than the love of his parents. He and Gabriel were certainly different... although he couldn't be sure Gabriel hadn't planted that thought in him just to generate those internal dilemmas.

"Next week, we'll start training. I'll take off the weight of that filth you wear on your arm and teach you to recover faster. Alcohol and smoking are not good remedies, at any age or for any species," the half-demon decreed, before disappearing into thin air. In response, Draco grabbed his flask again and downed it, clearing his throat shortly after.

"Fuck it."

He didn't feel like someone who had just grabbed a rope, but rather like someone who was tying it around his neck.

He lay on the bed, trying to hold back the groans, and began to stare at the large Slytherin banner hanging above the fireplace. His mind was crowded with a thousand thoughts as the depicted serpent writhed before his eyes, trying to escape the confines of the fabric. It reflected his mood; he felt trapped just like it. Fortunately, alcohol managed to silence anxiety and pain, sending him to sleep shortly after.