Draco Malfoy felt empty as he stared into burning red eyes, the eyes of the man- no, creature- that had just killed his parents. His father had never loved him and he felt less than nothing for the scum who dragged him and his mother into the ranks of the Death Eaters. But the loss of his mother- his noble, caring, mother- made him want to destroy something, even if it had to be himself. It didn't have to be himself, though. Voldemort stood before him with a haughty sneer on his lips, unaware of the consequences of his actions as of yet.
"Those that can't even carry out my plans deserve proper punishment. Remember this the next time I have a mission for you Draco, because now you have nothing to lose except for my future for you. Do you understand?" he hissed. Draco almost nodded numbly before realizing his automatic reaction and halting it. Instead, his blank expression morphed into a frowning mouth and dangerous eyes, bitterness in every line of his body.
"They were right," he snapped. Voldemort's eyes narrowed, but he allowed the temporary lapse in submissiveness in favor of curiosity.
"Who?" he demanded. Draco was happy to provide that information.
"Those bloody Gryffindors. That old coot Dumbledore. You might have been a man once, but now you're a monster. You killed my parents and you expect me to continue groveling at your feet like a rat! You just got rid of the only reason I followed you in the first place. Cling to your pathetic life while you can, because I'm going to find the power to defeat you, then I'll do more to destroy you than Potter ever has." Before Voldemort could react and kill him, Draco apparated away to the only place he knew no Death Eater would come to find him. He'd heard Potter and the Weasley boy talk about it with Granger, and he only hoped the picture he'd caught a glance of would be enough to guide him there.
"What the bloody hell?" A shout was heard as Draco reached his destination and fell to the ground, his knees suddenly too weak to hold him up. He couldn't even look up to see if he'd made it to the right place, his eyes focusing on the blood he only just saw on his robes and hands from where it had splattered when Voldemort had killed the only person who'd ever truly controlled him and the only person he'd ever truly cared about right in front of him. "George, look at him! Go get Mom!"
"Is that Draco Malfoy?" George Weasley asked. Some amount of relief won over the shock in Draco's system; he'd made it to the right house. "What's he doing here?"
"George, get Mom! He's covered in blood and he's shaking!" The first voice responded. The face of that voice moved into Draco's line of vision, revealing itself to be Fred Weasley. "What the hell happened to you, you little git?" Despite the fact that they were supposed to be enemies, Fred seemed to be genuinely concerned by the haunted look in Draco's eyes. "Where are you bleeding?"
"N-not my b-blood," Draco stuttered, tears forming in his eyes at the memories of just how it had gotten all over him. "I'm not injured." Fred frowned.
"You're shaking like a leaf. What the bloody hell happened?" Fred persisted. Draco shook his head harshly, trying to rid himself of the specific memories of what he was about to say.
"My parents were k-killed to punish me for not killing Dumbledore," Draco explained. He took a few deep breaths as Fred attempted to process that information.
"Holy shit. Why did you come here?" Fred questioned. In his normal state of mind, Draco would have smirked and commented that the Weasley seemed to be full of questions. However, he just attempted to regulate his breathing and answer the question calmly. He was going to give his original reason of no Death Eaters following him, but he realized that subconsciously, there had been another reason for him to choose the Burrow to flee to.