A/N: I do not own J.K. Rowling's story or characters.

As Draco ran through the dark forest he kept thinking to himself "This is the only second chance you'll get! Run faster idiot!" The fallen leaves crunched underfoot as he pushed faster, further, anything to get away from his past, fleeing the darkness that had consumed him and still did. He wasn't running for anything except his own life. He had no idea where the dark lord couldn't find him… where he would be safe… except for the place he was running from… the place he had helped to destroy.

Hogwarts, possibly the last safe place for him, was under attack from his master, the very master that would have pursued and destroyed him for running away. But the ever so brave Harry Potter had saved his skin yet again.

"Coward!" he screamed at himself. He could run no more. He stopped and dropped to his knees on the carpeted forest floor, clutching at his face to cover the tears from the world.

"Look who it is! Draco, son of the esteemed and slippery Lucious Malfoy, is hiding in the woods crying!" a cold voice seethed. Alarmed, Draco jumped to his feet and spun around to face the cold pale figure before him. Draco gasped and stared incredulously at the intimidating, tall, and robed dark wizard before him.

"You thought I was dead didn't you? You thought that the incredible Harry Potter had conquered me at last." He struck Draco across the face and he sprawled against a tree. "You're just like your father" he sneered, "running when it gets a little too risky for your own hide."

"Don't talk about my father that way!" Draco hissed.

"You are starting to sound like Potter more and more. And like Potter, I'm sure you're curious as to how I am still alive now. It is true that I had seven horcrux's and no more. It is also true that Harry Potter, the boy who lived and lived again, killed me and destroyed my army. I have been sent back to complete the mission. It chose me!" Voldemort declared proudly, "I am the true chosen one. Ironic isn't it? I was chosen by the Power!"

"Who has this power?" Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Not whose power but the Power" the Dark Lord purred, "I am to bring the Power to Earth. Wizards of long ago drove it from this universe, but they're weak and fractured. They no longer have the strength to keep the rightful king from his land. But we need the key, the password if you will. And that is why I have decided to give you another chance. Be the first to join my new, more sophisticated, army that will bring back the Power!"

"Never!" shouted Draco as he lunged for the Dark Lord. But he passed through him… and tumbled onto the leaves on the other side. The ghostly figure's laughter echoed in an unnatural way about the forest seemingly creating a multitude of the manic voices cackling in one horrendous cacophony.

"I have a few matters to get in order before you have to decide. I will give you a while to choose. A simple choice really, join me or join all those who have died before the Power's right hand of darkness!" Voldemort raised his hands to the frigid starry night sky and dissapated into smoke.

"You can't escape me…" whispered the wind as Draco ran.