Tom Stark-Malfoy

~//A.N. Hey guys! so this chapter is kinda repetitive. But now I'm introducing you guys to the TRUE identity of the villain of the story. I've left several clues throughout the story but he has officially appeared two times in Draco's new life. I'm starting off from when you last saw him. Couldron cakes to those who guessed his identity before this chap! Also, bonus cauldron cakes to those who can remember when he last appeared! I'd love to know if you were able to guess his identity before this chap, so please comment in/below the chapter!

Also. I am sorry to disappoint but I have two mini arcs before we can get back to Draco. I am so very sorry, but the main protags of both arcs are pretty interesting people so hope you guys can still enjoy even without Draco for a while! Now without further ado, let's continue on with the story!"

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Third Person P.O.V.

Within Malfoy Manor, a most peculiar thing had occurred after the big and the small Malfoys had left. A rather large rodent with aging grey scruffy hairs, bright red eyes, and a missing finger had turned into a man.

The man, if you could call it that, was rather tall with ashen white skin that was more resin-like than sickly pale as one would have expected with a light-skinned homo erectus. It's long bony fingers that ended in thick, sharp, coarse, and blackened nails limply held a bone-white yew wand that was 13 ½" long at its fingertips.

With it's bald head, slit nostrils, red irises, and elongated pupils, one could more ȧssociate this man with a snake than a rat.

It waved it's wand in a complex manner white muttering words under its breath and the doors of a large red oak cabinet swung open. After pulling open a hidden compartment, it's bony fingers enclosed around a golden cup with a badger engraved on the side, prying it away from it's silken bed.

The man grinned in an unsettling manner before slitting his wrist and letting his blood drip into the cup.

"Audite me maiores Istari. mors et vita sicut unum coalescunt. Aperi fores fati""

(Hear me, my😊 ancestors. Death and life coalesce as one. Open the doors of fate)

"Redde quod meum quondam fuit, alterum vincire catenis."

(Restore what was once mine, bind another with chains.)

"Alieno pretio redime animam meam."

(Redeem my soul for another's ransom.)

Black whisps of smoke leaked out of the cup and they dove into the man's ċhėst and head like snakes. Before all the black smoke was absorbed, dull dark-reddish green wisps of murky smoke leaked out of the man as though fȯrċɨbŀƴ expelled before it was suċkėd into the cup. A new prisoner of an old cell.

The man took long deep breaths, as though it were a newborn relishing their first breath of life. In fact, this was quite accurate as the man had indeed gained new life.

It's memories and sanity returned to it's mind, healing the soul that was fȯrċɨbŀƴ torn apart. Though this healing was very small, similar to a drop of water in a vast desert, it still quenched the thirst that had plagued the man for decades.

But to fully explain what happened, let me take you back to the beginning in the future.

~// Flashback to the first life. Draco was on the run after having stolen the book from 'Hogwarts'." .

Pettigrew had never been the most courageous one in Hogwarts days; nor was he the smartest, nor the most charming or loyal. But there was something he had done better than any of his friends. Surviving.

At this very moment he was cowering under the masterful cruciatius of the Dark Lord's Lady. He had made a mistake, and for which he was being punished.

Sitting in her own chair on the same platform that supported the throne of the Dark Lord, was his only progeny. Giggling and squealing whenever a red flash of light would leave Pettigrew wheezing, crying, and choking on the blood that pooled in his mouth as he bit harder onto his tongue whilst pain more agonizing than hell on earth coursed through every nerve on his dilapidated body.

"Oh~ I know how you can redeem yourself for the sins you have committed against my darling baby girl. Or I can relay your transgressions to my Lord and you may be liberated from that grotesque blob of disappointment you call a body. You decide~"

Bellatrix's dastardly enchanting voice, crept into his ears like the vilest insects crawling their way into his soul.

She raised her crooked wand and mutters several words before a black light wrapped around Pettigrew's wounds. The light forced his wounds shut and his bones to straighten and mend as gently as a matchstick thrown into a sewage tank that has accumulated methane gas for 60 years.

The contortions that ravaged his body were non-weaker than the most savage of dark spells. However, where nerve endings were once severed, they were now being repaired and the resulting pain was sharp and intense before fleeting into nothingness.

The intense agony whose source vanishes in seconds as though they were nothing but a dream would have mentally broken anyone placed under it's torment. Thankfully, Pettigrew was already mentally unstable and there wasn't much sanity left to loose.

Where a sane man would have stayed away from the obviously insane lady standing 2 meters away, Pettigrew had gotten onto his knees and crawled over to Bellatrix harping on like a newly hatched bird.

"I- I w-will do it! I will do it! P-please your Ladyship. Allow me to redeem myself!"

A chagrin smile was plastered on Pettigrew's expression as he begged like an animal without any sense of honor left.

"Bring me back the book that bastard stole from my Lord as well as his head."

"Wh- Which bastard?"

Bellatrix glowerd at the abysmal IQ of the man before her.

"I want the head of that bastard who stands in the way of my daughter and her inheritance. The ungrateful bastard who killed my sister. If it weren't for his betrayal to the Dark Lord, my sister would still be alive! Bring me Draco Malfoy's head!!!"

"Y-yes yes. Right away! Right away my Lady!"

Pettigrew scurried away like a rat into the night… before transforming into an actual rat and actually scurrying away into the night.

Stating that he was on a mission ordered directly by the Dark Lord, Pettigrew easily gained information from Fenrir about the last location his pack wolves had caught Draco's scent. Fenrir had also ȧssured that unless something urgent occurred, his pack would be waiting for Pettigrew's arrival before continuing their scavenger hunt.

However, Pettigrew didn't believe him. Though he wasn't the brightest student, he still understood what 'waiting for him' meant. No one 'waits' for reinforcement if they were on the winning site. It was obvious that during their hunt, the werewolves had lost track of the boy and it had already been quite some time since they lost him. In other words, they were sending him on this mission to fail.

Anger boiled from the bottom of Pettigrew's tiny decaying heart, but there was nothing he could do except follow orders.

After walking and running throughout the entire night and into a couple hours after dawn, Pettigrew was morbidly exhausted. Hence, he could not believe his eyes when he suddenly heard a loud boom from somewhere in the forest followed by the appearance of a small cottage that previously wasn't there.

Thoughts raced in his mind, but one stood out. This cottage may be a hideout of the blood traitors from the OotP. In this case, even if he didn't capture Draco, he may still be pardoned if he captures some other blood traitor or a mudblood.

Pettigrew could not stop the grin that took over his expression, and he moved to the side and hid behind a tree. A few minutes later, his conjecture proved true when he spotted a figure slowly making his way to the cottage.

When the figure opened the door, Pettigrew fired a Confringo with all his might. He hit the figure square on his back and sending him flying 5 feet above the ground and 10 feet into the cottage.

Pettigrew rushed to the cottage and send a fire-binding spell to capture his target. Shutting the door behind him, he finally saw the face of the blood traitor he just captured.

With excitement bursting from within, he couldn't help but condescendingly rattle on to his only audience.

"Draco Malfoy? What luck that you were the one I trapped. If I bring your head then he will definitely pardon me of all my faults. Be glad that you will be of some use to the world!"

Pettigrew truly couldn't believe his luck and he gloated in his mind and slowly raised his wand. There was a spell on the tip of his tongue that he was eager to use. His wand sensed his intent and started to glow a familiar green light that he had only often seen at the tips of the wands of other Death Eaters. Bringing his wand down, he enthusiastically shouted the spell.

"Avada Kedav-!"

But before he could finish his spell, the other party simultaneously shouted "Open!" and the door behind him forcefully swung open. Causing Pettigrew to be knocked off his feel and lose his balance before stumbling into one of the simmering cauldrons.

Outside of the cauldron, the other Draco had shouted "Protego!" but Pettigrew was unaware of this as the burning contents of the cauldron bit into his skin and forcefully pulled him deeper into the cauldron. The scorching liquid pushed its way into his lungs, searing him from the inside out worse than the pain he felt on his skin.

Soon the liquid began to expand exponentially until both he and the cauldron could no longer contain it.. His consciousness and the future as he knew it ended with a bang.