((A.N. Hi! So this is my second time attempting fan fic. Please don't be too hard. Haha anyway please tell me what you think! This story is going to have a lot of plot twists and romance and stuff! If you like it please REVIEW! Or if you don't review still! Thanks so much!))

Disclaimer: I do not, under any circumstances, own any part of Harry Potter. All belongs to queen J.K. Rowling.

"It's beginning. He's rising. And we're getting stronger. And my son gets to join us, join the highest honor. You have it all set for you, Draco."

Lucius' wispy voice wafted through the drawing room of Malfoy Manor like a draft of biting wind. Draco felt it hit him with icy coldness as he took in the information yet again.

You have it all set for you, Draco.

Draco Malfoy's heart beat in his chest. He fought back something sickening that ached to escape his throat.

On the exterior, Draco was calmly listening to his father with a soft smirk on his face, sitting poised and mature on the leather sofa in the large, darkening room.

No one took extra notice to him because it was always how Draco was, haughtily calm and extremely proud in physical demeanor.

If anyone in the room had taken a closer look at Draco that night, they may have noticed that he was fidgeting a little more than usual for a normal human being. Or that he was looking down frequently at something that was concealed in his pocket. Or that although his face seemed expressionless and calm, his eyes mirrored the eyes of one who was frightened beyond compare.

Draco could hardly see a thing in the room. But he was used to it. It was dark, as always. Although there was a little bit a daylight left outside, the curtains were shut, blocking out all illumination. Two candles were lit in the spacious room on the glass center table. Narcissa Malfoy sat re-lighting them while holding a wine glass in her shaky hand. Lucius was pacing around the large room, the thought of his words still on his lips.

Typical.

It was always like this with his parents. This was "spending time" together. Mostly these sessions were an excuse for Narcissa to sneak more dinner wine and for Lucius to spread information about Voldemort's plans and whatnot.

Draco's heart thumped loud into his ears. His parents were so blissfully unaware, so oblivious to their son and the hatching plots in his witty mind

...all set for you, Draco.

No one in the large manor seemed to take a liking to the light of day. It was summer, dark until late, yet the sun's rays had been blocked out, as if the family were a horde of vampires.

It wasn't something peaceful to Draco's mind on the last day of his sixth year. Especially concerning the events previously that week.

All Draco could think about was attending that goddamn funeral, watching and listening to everyone crying and wailing, while he sat like a stone, avoiding Snape's gaze and swallowing the hard rock in his throat.

Because it was all real. Dumbledore was dead.

And his very last words to Draco himself were one's he wished he had listened to at the time. Taken that very crucial moment to understand him and not just be worried about saving his own skin.

But it was too late. Everything was. Draco was getting used to the idea of that.

This year, getting off the Hogwarts Express wasn't as jolly an experience as it was for the previous summer vacations.

The whole train had within it the depressed, forlorn, and mournful emotions of the Hogwarts students. That year had come to a horrible end.

Even Crabbe and Goyle didn't talk as much during the winding ride. Which was rare, even for their bumbling brains.

They patted Draco on the back as goodbye when the train arrived at the platform. No one had come for Draco, as he could Apparate himself back home.

When he arrived at the manor, he remembered servants taking his trunk and telling him dinner would be ready soon. His parents were in the drawing room, drinking pre dinner tea at their usual time.

A seed had been planted into Draco's mind since the death of Hogwarts' headmaster. The seed began to get watered by Draco's conflicting denial of who he wanted to be and his desperate desire to escape. The seed sprouted and Draco formed a plan that he would set into motion that very night.

He acted quickly; he knew his parents were in deep conversation and were unlikely to leave the room until dinner. So, unseen by any servant or maid, Draco had walked up the large staircase to the top level to reach his parent's bedroom.

Luckily for him, no one was around, so he slipped past their doors with ease. He had to search a bit to find what he was looking for. Then he found it, glinting black and sticking out of his mother's jewelry box. He quickly retrieved it and stuffed it into his pocket, then slipped out.

No one knew a thing. Oblivion was comfort for Draco as his heart thumped restlessly. Dinner came, and all ate in silence. The only sentence uttered was Lucuis snide comment about how Hogwarts was "finally going to be a school without a fool running it."

When they finished, they sat in the drawing room and Lucuis explained how Voldemort had expressed how proud he was for Draco and that he has everything set for him.

It was funny, because Draco would have been thrilled at the idea of this fame and honor only a year ago.

But things change. And the year Draco lived, plotting to kill his own headmaster, with his own life on the line showed him something. And he didn't like it.

Now seventeen years old, Draco realized that his family had lived most of their lives in fear. He had not completely understood it until what he was put through. But this time, a member of the Malfoy family was not going to fall pawn to someone else's plan.

Because things were about to change.

Little did anyone know, things were really going to be different.

In just a moment.

A minute.

A second.

"Excuse me." Draco said and got up from his seat.

Who am I?

The day's last fleck of sunlight beamed on the bathroom mirror, giving just a little bit of light for Draco to see his reflection.

I am a coward.

Outside the dark bathroom, Draco could hear the soft murmuring of his parents; their conversation was more than likely about him.

I am weak.

Draco could just make out the look of sheer terror on his pointed, white face.

And I am afraid.

And then Draco broke down; he fell to his knees and let hot tears drip down his face. Soon, his whole body was on the cold bathroom floor and he began to shake heavily. This was it, he was about to do this.

The sun set then, taking with it the last ray of sunlight, the last ray of hope.

Draco was in complete darkness laying on the floor of his bathroom. He was not a man. He was not strong. What had he become? Escaping like this? Just a minute ago he was sure of his sprouting seed, but doubt had crept into his mind and planted thoughts around his own.

He staggered to his feet and held on to the counter to steady himself.

But I know what I want. He thought to himself. I want out.

He never asked for this. Everything was planned out for him, for his family. Like they all wanted this.

He couldn't understand anything. He knew he was arrogant, crafty, and smug. But he was not evil.

There were 6 years of Draco's life that changed him forever. In that time he kept within him memories, hopes, and secrets that no one knew about. Under his mask of pure haughtiness, he was easy to penetrate. He was vulnerable. But no one but him saw. And after all those years he could finally admit that to himself. And all he wanted to be was free. But he was made into something else, and he never asked for any of it. He didn't want to support a this; didn't want to have any ugly mark forever burned into his skin, didn't want to live his life like his foolish, scared parents.

He was not a pawn. And he was about to leave everything, leave all of this pain that he was forced to endure. It was time. Soon, nobody would recognize him anymore.

Because nobody really even knew the real Draco Malfoy anyway.

Draco took the the black chained pendant from out of his pocket. For a minute, he just stared at the markings and engravings on the time turner. It was a peculiar object indeed.

No one knows me. No one understands me. Right? That's why I can leave without them noticing. That's why I stole this dark object. It's my only way out.

A time turner that had been injected with dark magic was nothing to play around with. Especially when you had stolen it from under the nose of a certain dark lord who could kill you in an instant.

Draco was not sure how Voldemort had made it. It looked exactly like a normal time turner, only it was all black. But in it was dark, dark magic, unknown to most wizards; only such a dark wizard as Lord Voldemort could have created such a thing. This could take a wizard both forwards and backwards through time, as many minutes, years, or centuries as they'd like. It could warp the very essence of time, giving the traveller every opportunity to change the very forces of nature.

It was dangerous. And not foolproof either. For all Draco knew, he could be killed trying to go back five minutes in time.

But this was his only hope. A leaf was sprouted onto the seed, and Draco couldn't kill it just yet.

Draco took a deep breath, put the chain around his neck, and turned the hourglass on the pendant over three times, then four, then five, then eight, then he lost track.

Suddenly, the pendant jerked itself out of Draco's fingers and hovered in midair, with the chain still attached to his neck. His eyes widened as the hourglass spun uncontrollably and faster than anything he had ever seen before. His surroundings changed; he began to see flashes of light and dark, figures large and small, faces he did and did not recognize, sound began to blur into a whizzing noise. And soon everything merged together, and Draco couldn't hear, see or feel anything. It was like all of his senses disappeared.

And then everything went black.