A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfiction on the site, not the first created though. I do hope that you enjoy it and I'd appreciate comments and feedback.

NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED.

Silence strongly filled the drawing-room of Malfoy Manor, covering every magical and non-magical spot possible. The kitchen, the bedrooms, even the bathrooms, was still. Everyone was out, except Draco and his mother. The house was all theirs. For now.

Draco took his time strolling around Malfoy Manor, feeling every cool, flat surface of marble to keep a grip on reality. This moment to come was all his best friends had ever wanted, talked about — to become Death Eaters. Crabbe and Goyle's wishes were fulfilled by Voldemort two, three years back, some time before the Dark Lord truly returned.

Draco never really felt like becoming a Death Eater like his friends, or even his father. He just wanted to be a normal young wizard, who all he has to worry about are passing his N.E.W.T.s, getting a girlfriend, moving out of his parents house, having a modest job. . . Now, it seems as if someone has already chosen his path for life.

Unexpectedly, Draco remembers his fifth year at Hogwarts. He could mostly recall the short, toad-like woman named Umbridge enlisting him in the Inquisitorial Squad, the Dark Mark on his father's arm burning that afternoon, reading the Daily Prophet the next day to learn that ministry officials captured his father. That whole year at school felt good, especially with being a Prefect and all, torturing those first-years was enjoyable. But hearing about his father's imprisonment during breakfast at Hogwarts ruined all the happiness he had gained.

But mostly during that year he remembered Potter.

After he finished touching everything in the house, Draco found his way back in his room and sat down on his bed. Not even all the Slytherin colors bordering him could brighten his mood. In addition, his room being so plain didn't help.

In a couple of minutes, he knew, the Dark Lord himself will talk to Draco about a task he wants done. Draco could feel his stomach knotting into knots then smaller knots as each minute goes by. God knows what and how important this assignment could be if only the Dark Lord will want to discuss it openly.

The door to his room opened with a hardly noticeable creak, and long white-blond hair like his own flowed into the room, showing Draco's mother, whose face was as pale as Draco himself was. She whispered, her lips barely moving, "He wants to see you, Draco."

Reluctantly and deliberately, Draco rose out of what suddenly seems like a very comfortable bed. He walked stiffly out his room, following Mother through the hallways that today are always obscure, mysterious in some ways, unpredictable in others. When they reached the drawing-room, it was clear that someone had haphazardly shoved the usual tables, chairs, and sofas, against the walls.

Instead in the center of the room was a table almost the length of the room itself. It was full of decorations, similar to a snake, with its curves and arches that wound all around. A handful of chairs were positioned at certain areas.

People were sitting in the chairs. One of those people he recognized as Aunt Bellatrix, who looked away from someone else to wave Draco over. Aunt Bellatrix's face was ecstatic from an unknown reason. Draco's hands were starting to become sweaty as he's sitting in the slightly wobbly chair; he wiped them on his pants hoping no one is noticing. And another person he could name was his own mother.

The last person Draco's eyes ran over was someone who makes his skin crawl, makes his heart stop, makes him wish he were somewhere else: Lord Voldemort. He was sitting at the edge of the table, Aunt Bellatrix on his right, Draco on his left, and Mother sitting beside Draco. The closed snake-like eyes opened to show scarlet slits that directed to the floor.

"Nagini," he said in a high, cold voice that made Draco's skin shiver, and used a long, white finger to beckon. "Come."

A snake that was almost twice the size of a normal one arrived slithering from one of the corners to its master. When Nagini came past him, Draco got an intense feeling of insecurities. Nagini reached her master at last, and the Dark Lord started stroking her then looked up at everyone sitting here, which was four people total.

The Dark Lord addressed Draco. "How is your father doing, Draco? I'm assuming, he's out of his mind now, with the Dementors sucking on his worthless soul."

Draco felt sorry that his father was in Azkaban, but at this moment he resented him for his failure at retrieving the prophecy the Dark Lord wants. Draco felt like he needed to answer the Dark Lord, but the words couldn't form as his tongue felt stuck and his lips stayed closed.

"Draco, you must be wondering why I am giving you a task to be done. And why I, myself, must give it to you." Again, Draco did not speak; the Dark Lord continued, eyeing Nagini with longing.

"I understand that you are in your sixth year at Hogwarts. Yes, as you are in your sixth year at Hogwarts, you are reasonably useful; you'll have close access to what I want you to do."

"My Lord."

Voldemort looked over at Bellatrix with an expression that signifies a little annoyance. "What is it, Bellatrix?" he asked his most loyal follower.

"I was just thinking, My Lord, that I could carry out this task that you're giving to young Draco. Draco is just a beginner who–" Her words cut off and so was Draco's gathering hope.

Voldemort held up a hand. "That is very generous of you, Bellatrix. But Draco has to be the one to fulfill the assignment." Aunt Bellatrix went silent, most likely pouting about not being able to do this. Just what is it that the Dark Lord wants done?

"You see, Draco, there are two powerful wizards in the wizarding world, one of them I. The other as you may know is Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore? Draco thought to himself. I think I know where this is going. . . Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut, though managed a tiny nod.

"And lately he has become a problem that can no longer be ignored. Him and Potter. I will deal with Potter," Voldemort continued, emphasizing. "But someone needs to take care of old Dumbledore while I find a way to get Potter, and you, Draco, is that someone.

"Your job is to murder Albus Dumbledore."

A/N: How did you think I did. Leave a comment or even message me :D