Draco Malfoy didn't even have a minute to rest when he got home. All the Death Eaters-those who hadn't been captured in the first official battle of the Second Wizarding War-were waiting for him in the drawing room. He just sent his trunk to his room and went into the room.

Voldemort was waiting in the center of the room. The remaining Death Eaters and Narcissa Malfoy were surrounding the Dark Lord and waited for Draco to approach his master.

"Come, Draco," Voldemort said. "I do not know if you have heard, but your father has gone missing."

Draco nodded. "I read it in the paper." How could he have missed it? The headline was huge and bold: LUCIUS MALFOY MISSING AFTER BEING REPORTED PARTICIPANT IN BATTLE.

There was no doubt in Draco's mind that his father had fled to their house in France after Draco had released him from the Imperius Potion's effects. This was probably smart since Lucius's failure (which had been caused by Draco) to collect the prophecy from Potter would anger Voldemort to no end. However, Draco would soon realize that his father's actions had consequences.

"Since your father has not only demonstrated his incompetency to complete such a simple task," Voldemort started, "but has also attempted to escape his punishment, you will have to step up in his place. Once you have been initiated, your task will be made clear to you."

Draco nodded again, having nothing to say.

Voldemort lifted his wand and stepped back. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, do you believe yourself to be ready for what awaits you?"

"I do, my Lord," Draco answered exactly how he was supposed to.

"Do you pride yourself in being part of a great change-the removal of all those unworthy of studying magic?"

"I do, my Lord."

"Do you accept the challenges that come with being a part of the best collection of wizards in the Wizarding world?"

"I do, my Lord." It was getting a bit tedious to say this over and over again, and it seemed that Voldemort saw this thought in Draco's head.

"Do you agree to show patience when it means getting things your way?"

"I do, my Lord, but I will show no mercy to any filth in my way."

"Good, it seems that you are ready. Hold out your left arm."

Draco pushed up his robe sleeve and obeyed. Voldemort stuck his wand in the center of Draco's forearm.

"Morsmorde!" he said, drawing an incomplete eight on Draco's arm. Draco's arm suddenly burst with pain where Voldemort first had his wand. Draco gritted his teeth as the pain spread over his arm, following the invisible path Voldemort had drawn with his wand. Once it had reached the end, his entire arm was searing with pain. His arm then set on fire, but to Draco, it felt like he was being pricked by a thousand needles that were mapping out his new tattoo. Soon the flames were gone and a skull was left in its place, in addition to a moving snake.

"Welcome, Draco," Voldemort said, "to the winning side."

All the Death Eaters cheered for Draco. The boy of honor glanced at his mother and saw the worried look on her face. Draco knew that there was nothing he could do but play along, as Dumbledore had advised him.

"Alright, well," Draco said, "I'll be going up to my room."

The inhabitants of the drawing room shrieked with laughter.

"Oh, dear boy," Voldemort said. "You don't think your initiation is over, now, do you?"

Draco frowned. He'd gotten the mark-what more was there?

"We'll be going down to the dungeons now, so our newest member can prove himself worthy." Looking to Draco, Voldemort continued, "That shouldn't be a problem, now, should it?"

"Of course, not, my Lord," said Draco. Down to the dungeons, huh? He should have seen this coming from a mile away.

Voldemort stuck his wand in Draco's back and led him to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, the very place where Draco had seen his father torture an innocent man the year prior. In one of the cells was no other than Sirius Black. The moment Draco saw him he knew he had to do one of two things: torture him, or kill him. Or if he was "lucky," then both.

He told himself that if he ever got out of this mess alive, he would make sure to create a spell whose incantation was "Crucio" but the wand movement would be ever so slightly different that no one would notice that it only made the recipient of the spell act like he or she was being tortured.

But alas, ear wax. As in, ear wax must be getting to his brain because he didn't have time for distractions.

The dungeons were now crowded with those who wished to see Draco succeed and those who wished to see him fail, more or less for their amusement. Narcissa was a few feet behind Voldemort, who was front and center, and right behind Draco.

"A wizard always remembers his first kill," Voldemort said. "And your first kill should be someone powerful and renown, unlike Sirius Black here."

The others cackled.

"Unfortunately," Voldemort continued, "I wasted my first kill on my bloody Muggle father. I won't expect you to do the same. In fact, I have already planned who your first kill will be, but we'll get to that later. For now, I present to you, a traitor at heart. He could have been great, but luckily he is a pureblood. I can get him to make some pureblood children if I so desire."

Again, there was cackling, but less of it. It was a disgusting thought. Sirius looked at Draco with eyes of a partially lost man-a man who knew that there was hope, but not at the time. Draco walked forward until his face was between bars.

"Go on, Draco," Voldemort said. "He's all yours. Let's see if you can handle casting an Unforgivable curse."

"Forgive me," Draco whispered as softly as he could. "Crucio!"