Author's Note: This is my first fanfic. Be brutally honest (as that's what I need). Please Read and Review. I want no holds barred critiques here, because that's the only way to improve. This chapter has yet to be BETA's by my two cohorts Nat and Rosie, so I am sure that it will be reposted at some time with changes. Thank you! Brayden James Persephone

Disclaimer:The cannon characters are not mine. Some of the situations and dialogue are not mine (As I am trying to keep this as close to cannon as possible). All rights to the characters belong to none other than the glorious JK Rowling, who has inspired us to drool over her brainchihldren and place them in horrifically embarassing and angsty situations. Thank you JK, you have given us reason to drool (especially over Draco).

Once Upon a Sixth Year

Chapter one: The Task at Hand

I will be the first to admit it. My life has not turned out the way that I, or anyone else expected it to. I had always imagined that my family name and my wealth would be enough to support me and keep me safe. I never even thought that those who I detested so would be the ones to help me reclaim my life. Sometimes when you look back on things, you realize that everything you stood for was fake. My life was false and meaningless.

Despite always priding myself on being the leader, I realized far too quickly that I was only a pawn in the game. Instead of making my own decisions, they were laid out in front of me. What a fool I once was. I suppose that what they always say is true. Hind-sight is 20/20.

It all started on the first train ride to Hogwarts. At the time, I didn't give a second thought to what I was saying to the boy who lived. All I could see was that one of the most famous wizards ever known was fraternizing with someone as lowly as a Weasley. I still can't stand most of the brood, but I will admit that Potter had courage to turn down an offer of friendship by a Malfoy. I was livid when he answered me. He just stared at my hand and basically told me to sod off! Of course, it wasn't in so many words. At the time, I couldn't understand why he would have preferred to associate with the Weasel King over me, but to each his own. My life seemed to go swimmingly without the friendship of the famous Harry Potter.

I hated Potter and everything that he stood for. He was fair, honest, and brave. I was sneaky, self-serving, and cold. How was it that he had grown up with just as little affection and love as I did and yet he was able to be so different from me? I hated him for it. I hated the fact that he had friends and I had lackeys. In another world, maybe I would have been Gryffindor as well, but not in this world. The sorting hat saw me as a Slytherin through and through. Not to say I wasn't happy, but I was also ignorant. I had been raised to see Slytherin as the only worthwhile house. The others were all weak in my fathers eyes. In Lucius Malfoy's eyes, there could be no weaknesses. There could be no friends, no love, no laughter and no conscience. The only way to truly be strong was to be without a soul. It was a goal that had been instilled in me since birth.

Every year was the same at Hogwarts. Danger, intrigue, and Saint Potter saving the day. The first year, Potter saved the Philosopher's stone. Second year, Potter saved the youngest Weasel from the hands of the Dark Lord. Third year, Potter managed to unravel some mystery or another. Fourth year, Potter watched the Dark Lord return and lived to tell the tale. Fifth year, Potter and his friends outsmarted myself and the inquisitorial Squad, as well as battling in the department of mysteries. Sixth year though, sixth year I won against Potter and I paid dearly for it. At the time I thought it was all Potter's fault. If Potter's escapade in the Department of Mysteries had not happened, my father would have never been in Azkaban. If my father had not been locked up, I would have never been recruited. I blamed Potter for my hardships, sometimes I still do.

Up until my sixth year, I had little to worry about. My biggest issues were presented by the golden trio and my biggest concern was to make their lives as miserable as possible. My grades were high and my lackeys were always there. My life was perfect. Then, as blissful as my life was, it was all turned upside down with a mission given to me by Lord Voldemort himself.

That is where my story will begin for you. These are the events of my sixth and seventh years. These events are what made me who I am today. Don't judge me. Don't pity me. Look at what I tell you with detatchment. There is no clear good or evil in my story. As much as the Gryffindoric valor would like to place everything in a category of black versus white, my life was lived in the gray areas in between. Good and Evil are all relative. Now I begin.

Once upon a time in sixth year,

It was damp and cold in the dungeons of Voldemort's chambers. They had taken me to this god-forsaken place with a hood over my head, to prevent me from knowing it's location. Despite the clammy surroundings I found myself in, I could feel a slight summer breeze permeate the small window in the corner of the room. A glimmer of moonlight could be seen through the bars. It was the summer after my fifth year, and nothing in my life was right.

My father was in Azkaban and it seemed that I would be punished for his actions. At least that's what I thought at the time. My father had never been the perfect parent. There was no sign of affection shown to me and there was no fatherly warmth to remember. Lucius Malfoy was a cold and calculating man, who thought that any sign of love was a weakness. He had taught me to be strong and self-sustaining, but he left my mother to do the coddling. Lucius Malfoy was my best friend, my biggest critic and my worst enemy, all wrapped up in the perfect mask of an ice king. I loved the man, although I am loathe to use the term love. He was my hero, and sitting alone in that room, I learned that even heroes fell.

It had not been ten minutes in the moldy cell when a hooded and masked figure came to gather me. She may not have been identifiable by facial features, but her voice was one that I had heard thousands of times. I was sure that it was the form of my aunt Bellatrix, who fancied herself to be Voldemort's most trusted advisor. She was so naive to think that the Dark Lord truly trusted anyone. We were all pawns in his game, and I would soon be a happy and willing participant for him. In those days, any of us would have thrown ourselves at the mercy of the Dark Lord and kissed his feet happily. Now that I think about it, he chose some of the most insecure people that he could find. If you volunteer to be strong and in charge, the insufferably insecure will flock to you. The sheep always need their shepard. Although many learned that the Dark Lord was nothing but a wolf among the flock.

My aunt Bellatrix loved me. She also loved the Dark Lord. She thought that there was no higher honor than allowing me to join the game. She would willingly sacrifice me (or her own children, if she had had any) for the cause of the Dark Lord. A woman that I had once respected so, now only resembled a lovesick puppy. She was possibly the blindest of them all, apart from my father.

Aunt Bella slowly led me out of the room in which they had placed me so unceremoneously. The corrdidors around me were the same black bricks, tinged with wet and algae. It seemed that there were endless hallways, one twisting after the other until I was so confused that I swore we had been in the same corridor multiple times. I later learned that this was a way of keeping me from memorizing the labrynth of passageways, lest I tried to escape. Didn't they know that they had already hooked me? There was no need for such diversions, because I would have given my life and loyalty to Voldemort, were he to request it. After what seemed like twenty minutes of walking down hallways, Bella stopped in fron of a heavy oak door and knocked three times. The door had been gilded with silver leaf and emeralds, all curving and twisting into serpentine shapes. It was a work of art, and one that was not lost on my Slytherin heart.

When the door finally opened, I was led into a large room. One could only guess that it was a ballroom of sorts at one time. Seated at the far end of the room, was Voldemort. In all of his snakelike glory, he was perched on a throne that was a twisted seat of stone serpents. Even the Slytherin in me thought that it was a bit overdone. I had to thank the Gods that he hadn't read my thoughts. An insult on the Dark Lord would have meant death for me at the time. Standing on the other side of my lord, was my mother. She looked far more pale than usual and her eyes were ringed with dark circles. I hadn't seen her that tired looking since the ministry raids on our home. Her lack of composure only made my worries deepen. There was no reason for her to look like that. Then again, that was before I knew about my mission.

In such a position as I was in, I wasn't going to take any chances in angering the Dark Lord. He was our master, and I was a lowly servant. In a very uncharacteristic gesture, I stepped forward and knelt down in front of Voldemort's throne. I gingerly placed my lips on the hem of his robes and kept my head down until he spoke to me. Slytherins may be a proud race, but what we know above all other things is the idea of self-preservation. It was self-preservation that caused me to grovel at the Lord's feet. I am not proud of this display, nor am I proud of the ones that would come after it. However, they were necessary.

"Young Malfoy."

The Dark Lord's voice was an odd serpentine rasp. The mere memory of it brings chills down my spine. It was a voice that was thick with power, and yet completely inhuman as well. That voice will haunt my dreams forever. I only replied with the requisite 'Yes, Master.', and awaited my punishment for my father's shortcomings.

"Your father has failed me, boy. Now you must complete this task for me, or you will see both of your parents killed. This is not an optional assignment. You will complete it or suffer the consequences."

At that moment, a cold fear should have passed through my stomach. I should have felt more aprehension. However, if you look at it from my point of view, it meant that I would not be killed to punish my father. The assignment meant that I had a chance to atone for my father's mistakes. It also meant that I would be able to show the Dark Lord how useful I was. It was a silly thing for anyone to wish. However, I wanted nothing more at that time than to become Voldemort's lowly servant. If I was able to ensure the protection of my family in the process, all the better. In acknowledgement to the Dark Lord's words, I only nodded my head and told him I understood. I kept my words to a minimum, because the less was said, the less chance I had of pissing him off. I was being given a rare chance to prove myself, and Merlin save me if I was going to allow my insolent tongue to muck it up for me.

When the Dark Lord told me to stand, I stole a glance at my mother. I could see a look of fear and sadness on her eyes and it almost cracked my icy little heart to see it. She looked so weak and pitiable, I couldn't help but be a bit disgusted. I loved my mother, no doubt about that. Or at least I had an emotion for her that was like love. She was weak though. Weakness did not bode well with the Dark Lord and it meant that you would be killed faster in battle. Emotions should never get in your way and my mother was showing far too much emotion at that time. I quickly turned my stare back to the Dark Lord, inclining my head slightly to show him my willingness to accept his mission.

"You are to figure out a way to infiltrate Hogwart's. Upon doing this, you will lead a team of my most loyal followers into the school. Your responsibility Draco, is to corner Headmaster Dumbledore and kill him. If you do not complete this task, your parents will suffer the consequences, as will you." I could only nod. There was nothing else for me to do. I couldn't show my joy outwardly, as it would have been highly inapropriate. I also couldn't voice my reservations, as that would show my weakness.

"Yes, my Lord. I will do all that you command of me." I answered in a grateful tone. In truth, I was grateful. I was almost downright giddy with excitement at first. However, first impressions aren't always right. I would later learn the Dark Lord's motives in assigning that task to me. There would only be one way to describe his true intentions, sadistic. Voldemort gave me a time limit of eight months to complete my task and he sent me on my way. My mother followed soon after me, weeping silently as my aunt Bellatrix placed the hood back over my face.

A few moments later, I found myself at home. My mother had left to find Severus Snape and I was left to ponder the task that was set before me. It was late August and I had two weeks before I left for my sixth year at Hogwarts. If I were to complete this task and ensure the safety of my family and myself, it would take the most careful planning possible. However, the only thing I could do at that point was to go to my room and go to bed. I would get up early the next morning and do what was needed. That night I would sleep and ponder the Dark Lord's orders.

This was my task. Believe it or not, I was excited about it. That only goes to show you how the mind of a naive boy works. I never thought about what it actually meant to take on this order. Then again, I never really thought anything through back in those days. My life was what my father had made it to be. Somehow, I don't even think he would have been happy with the Dark Lord's orders. Gods know my mother was distraught.

This would only be the beginning of the longest year of my life. I can't regret any of it though. If it were not for that year and my mistakes, I would have never seen the life that I could have. I would never have been the person that I am today.