Harry Potter: Metamorphosis

Hoping to take his fate into his own hands, the white-haired aristocrat, started scheming.

As I concluded before, I don't have to lift a single finger against Lucious, yet. That means, there's only one obstacle in my current plan.

The Dark Lord, also known as Lord Voldemort, albeit few dared to call him by that name.

The sheep call him 'You-know-who', he thought and glanced at the floor.

"Pathetic," he scowled, marring his graceful facial features.

The muggleborns, the halfbloods, the blood traitors and even the purebloods.

All of them are pathetic, he concluded.

He'd be different, he had to.

Draco let out a tired sigh, the road ahead wasn't looking too promising.

Okay then, first things first. I have to survive this week until I am behind the ancient school's safety.

He wasn't deluded enough to take that as a given.

The Dark Lord had cast the torture curse on him for no reason whatsoever, and there was nothing stopping him from doing so again, and maybe taking it further the next time.

A pillar of wrath swiftly rose within him as he thought about his insecurity inside his own mansion.

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the rush of anger to ebb away.

So I have to avoid him somehow.

That wouldn't be an easily achievable feat as the Dark Lord liked wandering around and since he was the one connected to the wards, nothing was out of his reach.

He could also feel everyone's positions…

As long as I stick to unassuming places, I should be alright, he thought with optimism, not daring to ponder on the alternative.

However, I'll surely have to face him eventually, most likely against my will. I'll have to be able to keep my revolutionary thoughts to myself then.

His face scrunched up at that, twisting his elegant features.

He was frustrated, and rightfully so.

There was only one possible way of defending against Voldemort's feared legilimency and it wasn't a pleasant road, albeit it was a very rewarding one.

Occlumency, the dreadful word flashed in his mind.

That was the second side of the coin known as 'mind arts', the first one being legilimency.

Draco was annoyed at the revelation because he had already dabbed with the magics of closing one's mind against outside forces and it was most unpleasant.

I'll have to contact godfather... The magical bond we share should be more than enough to make sure that he won't be able to sell me out. And that's only if I'm mistaken about his true allegiances.

Severus Snape was a world-renowned occlumens; he was most definitely the best one in magical Britain.

I wonder how his membership with the Death Eaters works… Does he allow the Dark Lord to violate his mind? If Sev is half as good with the mind arts as he is rumoured to be, I doubt that Lucius' master will be able to discern which of his memories are true and which are false, assuming that he can even see anything inside his mind in the first place. What then? Are they using oaths? They are probably very well worded, I doubt that the-

"Ah, I'm woolgathering…" he muttered.

He was indulging aimless thoughts again.

Whatever the Dark Lord did with his godfather wasn't any of his concern. He simply had to secure his own mind, and unlike Sev, keep it a secret.

Until I return to Hogwarts I should try and find those books we had in the library and study them in detail, he concluded.

While it'd be many times slower and harder to form shields around his mind on his own, the sooner he started, the better.

Draco glanced at his arch windows.

From the sun's position, he quickly concluded that it must have been evening.

Not the best time to walk around the house, not unless I want to run into him, he mused.

He'd have to postpone that course of action to the next day's morning; the Dark Lord was apparently a heavy sleeper.

What's the next course of action? Assuming that I'll manage to blend with the shadows and stay out of everyone's line of sight, what then? I want to make him pay. How will I do that? he pondered.

How did one go around taking their retribution against Dark Lords that were numerous times more powerful and experienced than them?

I'll have to ask Sev to offer me his tutelage on the dark arts as well…

That line of thought didn't stem from some kind of deeply hidden and forgotten Gryffindor part inside him.

While I've no doubt that it'd be impossible for me to catch up to the Dark Lord's fighting level, not anytime soon at the very least, the other death eaters are fair game. Most of them aren't truly skilled and simply throw killing curses around, hoping to hit their enemies, he thought darkly.

While he wasn't a fan of that dark curse, he had to admit its potency. Despite one exception, who went by the name of Harry Potter, it could instantly kill everyone it hit.

Even the Dark Lord, Draco mused.

If he wished to murder the aforementioned man, he didn't necessarily have to be at his skill level.

He simply had to position himself close behind the Dark Lord's back and utter those two words, not even the feared man could escape something like that.

He was a human after all…

Avada Kedavra, huh? he thought and suddenly a feeling of unnatural cold encompassed him.

He naturally knew the killing curse's incantation, as most of the purebloods did.

It was taught to him at a young age so that on the off chance that those two words were ever aimed at him, he'd know how to act.

Theoretically, at least, he thought with a chuckle.

No one could be truly prepared to face Death's claws heading towards them.