He doesn't want to do it, but knows that he has to. It's too late now, anyway. He already let his fellow Death eaters into the castle. The thought gives him a sharp burst of pain in his stomach that almost sends him to his knees. Hogwarts is his home. Perhaps even more so then Malfoy Manor, especially now that the Dark Lord has chosen it as his headquarters. He feels like he betrayed his home. He doesn't even want to think about the students and teachers his betrayal will end up getting killed.
He nervously runs his hand through his hair, trying to clear his thoughts from everything but his mission. He has to kill Albus Dumbledore, if he doesn't, the Dark Lord will kill him and his mother. He has no other choice. Thinking and worrying about other people shouldn't be his priority at the moment. He shakes his head as if to clear it from all thoughts and continues his steps to where he knows he'll find Dumbledore. He has a headmaster to kill, and nothing, not even the thought of dying students and teachers will stop him.
His friends and fellow Slytherins are safe, having been warned by their parents not to leave the common-room after dark. It's after curfew, that means there probably won't be any other people around, except perhaps teachers and prefects doing their nightly rounds. The halls should be empty. With any luck they'll even find Potter and his friends running around the halls getting into trouble as usual. Then his aunt Bella can kill scarhead and this whole bloody war won't have to happen.
At the thought of Potter lying dead in the corridor after running into his aunt Bella the face of Hermione Granger runs through his mind.
He knows that if they find Potter she will be there as well. He doesn't understand why the picture of Hermione Granger's body being hit with green light makes him want to vomit. She's just a know-it-all mudblood after all, her death should make him happy at least, and ecstatic at best. He decides to ignore it, like he ignores everything else, and focus on his mission.
Killing Albus Dumbledore, that's what he has to do.
"Where are we going, Draco," his aunt hisses, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I wish to kill mudbloods."
He ignores her like he ignores Greyback's panting and growling, and continues on his way.
"I smell virgin flesh," Greyback growls softly, stopping in the middle of the corridor to take a good sniff.
Wonderful. Not only is he expected to kill the greatest wizard since Merlin - and Salazar help him if he ever let the Dark Lord pick that particular thought out of his mind - but he has to accomplish this impossible feet with his crazy aunt Bella and a virgin smelling werewolf as his back-up. The universe hates him.
His claim is proven true in his mind only seconds after he has the thought when he spots Hermione Granger hiding behind a thirteen century tapestry. He wouldn't have seen her if it wasn't for her Gryffindor curiosity that caused her to peek out from behind it.
Bloody Gryffindors. He's sure one of the highest causes in Gryffindor deaths is caused by curiosity, and stupidity.
How the bloody hell is he suppose to get her out of this one? He's certain she is the virgin Greyback is currently salivating over. Her eyes widen in shock when their eyes meet, before the shock leaves to make room for recognition. He immediately understands that she knows he's a Death eater when disappointment flutters across her face. It makes him angry because as far as he sees it she doesn't have the right to be disappointed. He is nothing to her - she's nothing to him.
He ignores the small part of him that tells him to get on his knees and beg her forgiveness. The part that knows she'll forgive and help him if he explains why, and if he tells her the truth. If he tells her how he doesn't think she's a mudblood, or beneath him. If anything, he knows he's beneath her.
He ignores it because it's too late. And even though it's the truth, he'll never tell her, or beg. Because he's a Malfoy, and however much they might want to, Malfoys don't beg.
"I'm sure that's very nice, Greyback. Really, a wonderful talent you've got there," he drawls his voice thick with sarcasm. "But the Dark Lord didn't send us here to sniff out virgins, or kill mudbloods. Now if we find them on our way, feel free to kill them. But since I don't see any mudbloods or virgins let's do what we came here for. We don't have time to fuck around."
His eyes never leave hers while he speaks.
"Draco's right," his aunt hisses, making him weak in the knees with relief. "We have important matters to attend to, lead the way, Draco."
He gives Granger one last look trying to make her understand... he's not even sure what. Perhaps he wants to tell her she owes him her life. Perhaps he wants her to know he doesn't want to hurt her. Or perhaps he just wants her to understand that when one is hiding, they traditionally hide their head too.
What he is sure of however, is that he wishes that Malfoys did beg.