Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, just the plot. Furthermore, I am not making any money by writing this story.
DPOV
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the screams. I didn't know who the man was, only that he had failed the Dark Lord in some way and that the man was being punished for it. The man was begging: for mercy, for death, anything to stop the pain. My father stood next to me, watching this torture with cold eyes, completely unfazed by the man's anguished cries and his master's cruel laugh.
I knew that someday I would be in that man's place. The Dark Lord was too quick to anger to be happy with anyone for long. Voldemort ended the curse and the screams were replaced with whimpers.
"Draco." My eyes snapped open at my master's call. I stepped out of my place in line to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet, just a few feet away from the tortured man, still writhing from the after effects of the curse.
"Yes, my Lord?" I prayed he didn't hear the fear in my voice. I took a deep breath and focused my thoughts. My aunt Bellatrix taught me Occlumency this past summer so I could keep Dumbledore out of my head. If she hadn't, the Dark Lord would have noticed that I no longer believe the ideals that had been beaten into me since childhood. He would have discovered that I am sickened by his displays of power and that I detest him and all that he stands for. I have grown up a lot these past few months. I would have been killed for my traitorous thoughts, if Voldemort had read them. Now when he searches my mind, he sees only thoughts of hatred toward muggleborns and those who accept them.
"Draco," he said again, "Do you think Jugson deserved to be punished?"
Jugson. I looked over at the man. He was still lying on the floor, apparently unable to move. The room was silent but for Jugson's laboured breathing and my own pounding heart.
"Anyone who fails you deserves to be punished, my Lord" I said, hating myself.
"Remember those words, boy. I have a job for you, and you had best not fail." He looked pointedly at Jugson.
"I won't fail you, my Lord." My mind was racing. I thought of the tasks he had given to others in the past, trying to mentally prepare myself. But nothing could prepare me for the words I heard next.
"You are to kill Albus Dumbledore."
Those words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of me. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't even breathe. The room erupted.
"My Lord," came my father's pleading voice, "He's just a boy! I couldn't ev-"
"Crucio." My father fell to the ground, screaming in pain.
"Master," Aunt Bella was speaking now, "Surely you should have someone better suited do the job; someone who stands a chance. Severus, perhaps? He is in the perfect position given his relationship with the wizard…"
The serpentine wizard lifted the curse from my father and turned his attention towards my aunt. "Do you question my judgement?" He asked, his voice deadly.
"Never, my Lord!"
"Good. Draco will kill Dumbledore by the end of this year. I suggest you help the boy. If he fails, he will suffer dearly. Now out of my sight! All of you!"
I scrambled up from my place at the Dark Lord's feet and ran over to my father to help him out of the room.
"Draco," The Dark Lord called again. I turned, still holding up my father. "You will not fail me." His words weren't a display of his trust in my ability. They were a threat.