The Death Curse

Summary: Once he refused to join the death eaters, Draco is tortured and killed by Voldemort.

A/N: Hello, everyone, and welcome to my new fanfic. In this story, Draco realizes that he would be in the wrong if he would join the death eaters, so he decides not to join. Furious, Lucius hunts him down and sends him to Voldemort, who kills him. Be sure to read and review!

I dedicate this story to an old friend of mine, who died in a tragic car accident in September 2007. He wasn't [that I know of] a Harry Potter fan, but I figured I would write a story in his memory.

Lex E. "Bucky" Hawk III

April 14th, 1989 – September 23rd, 2007

"Draco! Draco!"

The sound of Lucius' furious voice boomed throughout the mansion. The middle aged, blonde man slowly moved through the dim, gloomy hallways of his home, looking from side to side for his disgusting, foul son. How dare he cross him? How dare he rebel against the dark lord's orders? Voldemort commanded Draco to join the Death Eaters, for he is of age and he craves Draco to 'follow Lucius' examples' and be a loyal follower to him.

"Draco!"

Much against his knowledge, Draco had sought refuge behind his father's bed. Keeping his whimpers silent, his thin legs were held to his chest and stomach, holding the position with his arms. Trembling from fear, he knew what he was doing was right. Secretly, he had never supported Voldemort, nor had he ever fancied the idea of becoming a Death Eater. What was to happen to him when he was discovered by his enraged father, he was afraid. He was the tender age of eighteen, and terrified of his own family.

"Draco! Come out here, now!" He heard his father's voice again. A tiny whimper escaped from his throat, which alerted his father, for he stood only feet from the room from where Draco remained hidden. He slowly turned to face the door, then slowly turned the doorknob and walked into the room. Hearing the door creak, Draco attempted to sit completely still, slightly trembling from his fear, and forced his cries not to utter from his tongue.

Lucius carefully observed the room. He slowly walked to his closet, observing every inch of what could be a hiding place for his disobeying son. He stood up straight again, closely watching the room for any sense of movement. His eyes then lied on his bed. He silently stepped to the headboard of his bed, then withdrew his wand. Leaning against the wall, he aimed his wand. "The dark lord wishes to speak with you, my son."

Silence continued to fill the room.

"I know you're back there, Draco."

Draco remained silent.

"Wingardium Leviousa!"

The bed raised in mid air, to reveal his son, pale faced with red cheeks from his crying.

"I will never go," Draco said weakly.

"To hell if you won't," the bed crashed on the floor again. He grabbed his son by his hair and pulled him from behind the bed. "You will obey the dark lord."

"I will not obey," Draco squirmed, attempting to leave his father's grasp.

"Do you dare question me?" Lucius pointed his wand at Draco's throat. "GO."

Draco slowly exited the room with Lucius, whose wand was aimed at the back of his neck. As they walked down the dark stairs to the guestroom where the dark lord sat, he felt as though he was walking to his death.

The room was dark; the only light that emitted the room was the dying fireplace, which sat behind a large chair, which resembled a king's throne. He stopped at the doorway, his fear growing immensely by catching sight of Voldemort, with his bald head covered by his black cloak, his slits for nostrils and a complexion a pale, unhealthy white; Voldemort sat in this throne. Draco noticed that many death eaters were in the room, and the crowd, which appeared to be mostly men, was divided enough to reveal a walkway.

"Ah… Draco… you finally came to join us," Voldemort said in his spine-chilling voice. Two masked men took Draco and dragged him to their lord. He stood in front of him, looking as though all the blood in his face was gone.

Voldemort pulled out his wand. "On your knees, boy!"

Flicking his wand down, against his will, Draco fell to his knees.

"Now, tell me…" Voldemort smiled. "Why won't you join the death eaters?"

Draco said nothing; his body merely trembled in panic.

"Tell me, boy!" Draco watched the tip of Voldemort's wand develop a lime green charge.

"Ok, Ok!" Draco screamed. "I won't join you, because I don't support your cause!"

"My cause?"

"You have brainwashed my family into believing in your evil, killing people, thinking it's right!"

"I see…" Voldemort placed the tip of his long fingernail on his cheek, acting as though he was in wonder. "Well… if you don't follow me…" His cold eyes gazed at Draco. "I'll force you to follow me."

With that, he raised his wand and pointed it at Draco. "Crucio!"

Draco fell over, his back hitting the hard floor, screaming, twitching, and squirming from the pain and torture. He felt as though knives were stabbing his body, ripping him limb from limb. He believed he was helpless; he had no prayer of escaping from Voldemort alive. The torture had been so great, his body's strength had left him, and he was too weak to scream anymore.

Voldemort pulled his wand away, and Draco stopped moving. The Dark Lord pointed his wand once again to the blonde's body and lifted him, which caused Draco to float in mid-air.

"Are you sure you won't join the death eaters, boy?" Voldemort raised his wand, lifting Draco's lifeless, half-conscious body.

"…Never…" Draco managed to utter.

"Suit yourself…" Voldemort laughed. "Avada Kedavra!"

Though he was slowly losing consciousness, Draco merely closed his eyes, remembering every time that he himself tormented his classmates. He believed that Harry did not deserve the instant death of which he was about to endure. He opened his eyes enough to see a burst of green light erupt from Voldemort's wand and hit him in the center of his stomach. His head, along with the rest of his body, flew back; His sky blue eyes turned cold and dead. Death had welcomed him with open arms and entered him into an eternal sleep, as his body flew many feet away through the gap of which the followers were divided, who watched him hit the wall, then land on the floor.