Part One

No, I'm not the man I used to be lately,
see you met me at an interesting time.
And if my past is any sign of your future,
you should be warned before I let you inside.

(John Mayer - I don't trust myself)

The huge mahogany doors opened silently, the only sounds audible were the steps of Draco as he marched down the cold corridor, the door opening as he and his followers approached. Tiny puffs of dust emerged from the ground while his mind was troubled with his mother he had just left behind. Never in his life before had he seen her shed as much as one teardrop but the last image left him speechless, devastated. She had been sitting in her chair next to the fireplace in her living room, hunched forward and the usual pride she was wearing was gone, instead she was shaking while silent sobs bubbled from her chest.

"I wish I knew what to do, Draco," she had finally whispered and squeezed his hand as he had kneed down infront of her, trying to comfort her.

"I know that this is because of your father, his failure at the Ministry," she had continued, whispering so quietly that Draco hadn't been sure if she forgot about his presence.

"But you are just a boy - Bellatrix is so full of joy and appreciation. Of course she is, I know she would have loved to give her own son if she had one." Her eyes had narrowed at the thought about her sister.

Draco had brought his hand up to place it over his mother's, his thumb stroking softly over her skin. His throat had tightened, his mouth had felt too dry to say anything.

"Everything...will be fine," he had finally chocked out and looked up, his eyes wandering over her face. "Aunt Bella has a plan and it will work."

'It has to work,' he had added in his thoughts.

"I know," his mother had admitted and brushed her hand affectionately over Draco's head. She had ruffled his hair, as if they had been at some other place, some other time. Other circumstances which wouldn't threaten their lives. "Everything will be alright, we'll be a happy family again," she had whispered, her voice lethargical. Leaning forward she had wrapped her arms around Draco, pulling him close to her. Almost clinging to him. It had been the moment where she had let go of her manners, all of her walls had fallen down and allowed herself to cry; cry harder than she had never cried before.

Draco had felt movement on the other side of the room as someone had entered, clearing his throat obnoxiously to get their attention.

"It's time," Draco had heard the man say and he had rose from the ground, his mother slowly getting to her feet herself.

"Be careful. Be strong," had been her last words as she had embraced him in an awkward embrace. Not knowing when they would see each other again, Draco had stared at her for a long moment before he had turned around and followed the man who's name he didn't know.

Draco snapped out of his reverie as the progression suddenly stopped infront of a room, he didn't recognize. It had been years since he last walked through the halls of Lestrange Manor and this corridor wasn't familiar to him.

He looked behind him at the two man who brought him here and cocked an eyebrow.

"Is there any magic word I have to say? Open Sesame maybe?" he asked, trying to contain a chuckle.

"I'd like to wipe that smirk right off your face, Malfoy. Unfortunately, this will be someone else's pleasure," he mused and with a flick of his wand he opened the door and beckoned him to enter.

Draco found himself in a dark room, the light inside was quite muted. The only source of light was coming from an illuminated wand, long and pale fingers were holding it up. Squinting his eyes he recognized the Dark Lord seated in an antique wing chair, an almost innocent smile carved on his face.

"Come closer, my fellow. Come here," he said and Draco forced himself to walk toward him, every cell in his body screaming and demanding him to turn around.

"Master," he heard himself say, his voice sounded oddly high-pitched. His father had once taught him lessons about how to behave infront of the Dark Lord and he was grateful that he could remember them all. For all he knew the Dark Lord didn't appreciate disrespect.

As he reached the chair he took a slow bow, his gaze dancing across the wodden floor, petrified to meet his master's gaze.

"Well well, I've heard that your mother and aunt already introduced you to your new...task, didn't they?" he asked, not awaiting an answer. He continued immediately.

"I'm delighted to hear that you want to prove yourself to me, Draco. I granted you this wish with the kindness of my heart. You shall get your chance now," he explained and Draco noticed the lack of kindness in those words. The Dark Lord wasn't capable of kindness, his mother had taught him that already. He didn't allow his face to show any emotion as he spoke.

"I won't disappoint you, Master," he said clearly and the Dark Lord's smirk broadened.

"Our new regime will rise and you, Draco, are the key to it. You must not disappoint me." He stood up and held his left hand out and grabbed Draco's wrist, drawing him closer. Silently, Draco's sleeve rolled up and bared his forearm, his veins drawing smooth lines like cob web.

The tip of the Dark Lord's wand touched his cold skin, almost tenderly.

"Welcome to your new family," he whispered.

Outside the two Deatheaters heard Draco's screams as he received the Dark Mark.