Miles to go...

The day had been warm and inviting but the night was bitterly cold. The icy wind took your breath away and left your cheeks stinging with cold. He didn’t care though…

He passed Hadgrid’s hut and saw the gentle giants’ silhouette in the window. From the sound of it he had most likely had a few drinks tonight. Still he trudged on in the deep snow.

As he passed by the lake he heard a familiar sound and stopped. Surly she could not be around. He though as he began walking again, faster this time. As he neared the edge of the grounds he did not hesitate to enter the forest that had freighted him for so many years. Walking became more difficult but his pace did not lessen. The twigs snapping under his feet made him stop again. This time he glanced all around. He was fully submerged in darkness and it gave him a strange comfort. As suddenly as he stopped he remembered what sent him into the woods in the first place.

“You will do as you are told boy!” his father yelled, voice dripped with malice and hate. “You have embarrassed me enough! You will never do it again. Do you understand boy?”

The crack of the whip answered his question and the boy did not flinch as the leather tore his skin. Years of similar ‘character building’ as his father had called it trained him to except the pain and move on.

“You will meet him in the forest just as Christmas Day has come. You will obey his command- You will take the mart! You have withered away for far too long and My Lord needs to know you are loyal to him.”

What if I’m not! I screamed inside my head but did not dare say aloud. “You are on our side boy aren’t you?”

Once again the crack of the whip answered the man’s question. The cut was deep and painful, reopening past wounds freshly healed. Still the boy stood tall even as he felt the blood running down his back. The cuts burned in the musty air and the flesh that been opened burned so much you think it would have been on fire.

“Aren’t you boy!” he asked again.

“…of coarse father.”

He shook his head clear and did not move. He listened to the darkness and heard the faint sounds of laughter and Christmas carols, no doubt coming from Gryffindor Tower. He began to walk again but a voice emerged from the silence. “Do you think this wise young Mr. Malfoy? Do you know who waits for you beyond the sanctity of the grounds?”

Draco had stopped and turned to the direction of the voice. There in the glow of the moon stood the centaur, Firenze. Draco did not speak as the half man; half horse came closer until they stood face to face. “Answer my question.”

“It is none of your business you filthy creature!” Malfoy spat.

Firenze laughed. “You think me funny do you stupid horse? Well let’s see how funny it is when my master’s got hold of you.” Draco said smirking as he slowly moved backwards deeper into the forest.

“So he is your master now is he? I thought you were stronger than that. I thought you a strong human. For once in my long life I am wrong.”

Draco had no response and looked away. “You find my words damaging weak human?”

“I am not weak!” he yelled snapping his head back to the centaur.

“No?” he sounded bemused. “Than why do I find you here tonight?”

“Because-“

“Because you are weak,” Firenze finished. “I have not come on my behalf nor yours. Another is worried about you.”

“Ginny,” before thinking Draco said in a voice most unlike his own; soft and gentle. “I haven’t told her a thing.”

“You forget I do not need words to understand.”

Ignoring his last comment Draco went on, “Why do I care what she thinks?”

“Because you love her,” the centaur said in his hypnotizing voice.

Malfoy looked flabbergasted. Ginny’s smiling face came into Draco’s mind. Had he really fallen for her during those late night meetings? He quickly shook the image out his head. “Malfoys do not love,” he said in the same strong, definite tone as his father. “I do not love.”

“You can lie with words human, but not with your heart. Human facades crumble under my races’ inner eye. Do you not remember?”

For a minute Draco closed his eyes and when he opened them the centaur was gone. He stood there immobile in the snow; uncertain of which way to go.