A/N I don't have Beta reader, so sorry if there are mistakes! Enjoy guys! This is my first DRARRY! R/R

Something Changes

Chapter 1 – In the Dark of Night

It was in the dark of night when the Dark Lord summoned Draco Malfoy into his headquarters at Malfoy Manor. The young Malfoy had risen himself from bed, the Dark Mark burning into his arm and fear caused his heart to beat furiously.

If you had known Draco in earlier years, you wouldn't have recognized him even in the slightest. He had… changed. His normally perfectly placed blond hair had become a mess on a regular basis and dark bags had formed under his eyes. He was less well groomed and his normally amazing fashion sense had dimmed to baggy grays and blacks.

Draco dragged his feet as he slumped towards headquarters, his usually prideful stride gone. Draco's eyes flickered around the gloomy hallways that were once alive with portraits of family members and where the once happy Malfoy family would laugh together in the now musty armchairs that lined the walls. He had become nervous to walk around his own home.

The young Malfoy paused in front of the majestic cherry wood doors that let into the grand dining room. He took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of why he had been summoned. He closed his tired gray eyes and his frail hands grasped the pure silver door handles. He opened the door slowly.

Draco peered nervously into the now dingy dining room and his eyes landed on the large table in the center. The black wood and sliver that lined the legs and edges had begun to rot and the room smelled oddly of death and graveyard dirt. He brought his eyes slowly up to the end of the table, where on the decaying armchair sat a man that wasn't quite a man. He skin was a horrible shade of gray and his face was mutated. This… creature had slits for a nose and glowing red-black eyes. He was a monster.

He was dressed in his typical black robe that hung loosely on his figure, giving the impression that he had no physical body. Draco shuddered.

"My Lord?" He asked tentatively, his voice shaking, so unlike the Malfoy he used to be.

"Ah… Draco." The Dark Lord cooed with an obviously fake loving tone. "I see you got my message." He spoke slowly, pausing in random places. He smiled, grossly showing his yellow, crooked teeth.

"Yes, My Lord." Draco responded. It felt almost unnatural for him to address someone (if you could call him a someone) like this, in a way that made the Dark Lord more important than he.

"Sit, sit." He hissed. This was a demand; Draco knew it was not a suggestion. And awkwardly, he took a seat a few chairs from the Dark Lord. "Now," he drawled. "I gave your father a mission a few weeks ago."

"My Lord?" Draco muttered, confused. "My father has been in Azkaban for months…"

"Ah… my Draco, you underestimate me. I have my ways." He laughed; the sound itself seemed dark. "As I was saying, I gave your father a mission a few weeks back and… Can you guess what it was?"

"I've no idea, My Lord." Draco slurred quickly.

The Dark Lord stood abruptly, his robe flowing behind him as he quickly walked behind Draco's chair. He placed his hands on the young Malfoy's shoulders and Draco did his best to hide the look of disgust forming on his face. "It was a simple task, really. Talk to some prisoners. Get my message through, honestly, Draco, it was just that simple." The Dark Lord hissed. He moved around the dining hall, his feet practically gliding across the floor, the smell of sulfur drifting slightly behind him. "But he failed!"

Draco's eyes widened and fear enveloped him. "My Lord?" Draco's voice was shaky.

"Your father has never ONCE succeeded. Get the prophecy from Potter… Resurrect me… Talk to inmates… NO! FAIL!" He screeched.

Draco visibly withdrew in fear, his breathing erratic. "I… I apologize on his behalf… My Lord." The blond muttered, trying to still his shaking body.

"You see, my dear Draco…" he paused. "I need to punish him. And since your mother never helped either, she too, needs to be punished." The look in his eyes made Draco even more uncomfortable than he already was.

"Punished, My Lord?"

"Punished, Draco." He confirmed.

Draco gulped audibly.

"There is someone I'd like you to meet." The Dark Lord hissed. "Draco, this is Yansmer Victos."

A pale man with hard eyes and a scraggily beard immerged from the corner of the room and walked to the table. Had he been there the whole time…? The man's – Yansmer Victos' – face was dead. His fingers were unnaturally long and his nails were sharp. The man smelled of death and the sickening smell of dried blood drifted from him. Yansmer had even paler skin than Draco (which was very surprising) and his expression made the young Malfoy wish he could run away.

"Do you recognize him, Draco?" The Dark Lord asked.

"No, My Lord."

"Not even from the wanted posters?"

"No, My Lord."

"Pity." He sighed. "Yansmer here, is a vampire, Draco."

Draco's breath hitched. Vampire…? "Why is he here, My Lord?" He asked, fear lacing his words.

"Well, Draco, I told you that your parents need to be punished, did I not?"

"You did, My Lord. But… What do I have to do with this…?" He tried not to show his worry or fear.

"You are the punishment."