Disclaimer: I don't own them, simple as that.
Draco was in the end of his 6th year at Hogwarts school of Witch Craft and Wizardry, and a firm follower of the dark lord. Yes he was a hypocrite, Draco was smart enough to recognize that, but at least he had the right idea. At least, that was what he had always believed, until one fateful night, not four months before his initiation was to take place.
His father had flooed into the Slytherin common room, as planned, after everyone had gone to bed. Draco was waiting for him. With out a word, the elder Malfoy walked out of the fireplace, dusted himself off, and with a nod at his son, threw another handful of floo powder into the flames and said something Draco couldn't quite make out before shoving him into the emerald flames. The next place Draco remembered being was in the depths of what looked like a forest, trees so dense that what little light present filtered in from the gaps between the leaves above. Lucius, still as silent as in the common room, walked forward through the tightly packed trees to a small clearing. Here the trees upper branches had fanned out, blocking all light from above. Draco gradually began to make out shapes in the darkness, shapes of dark hooded figures, murmuring to each other, all seemingly anticipating something.
Draco almost jumped a foot in the air when he suddenly heard his father hiss dangerously in his ear
"don't you dare embarrass me boy, I brought you here because I thought you might enjoy this, don't make me regret it"
Draco just nodded silently, and with that his father stood up straight and called out into the surrounding trees
"bring it forward!" Two hooded figures emerged from the trees in front of Draco and into the empty space of the clearing, all the other death eaters going silent and the air hung heavy with anticipation and excitement, and though he still had no idea what was going on, and Draco knew better than to ask. All would be revealed to him in time. The two dark robed men dropped something to the ground, a something that let out a small "oof" when it landed. Slowly the death eater's cargo started to move, and looked up, piercing blue green eyes locked on stony grey ones. The witch broke eye contact and slowly, painfully, got to her feet. He assumed that she was scared out of her wits. He was wrong. Draco scanned the battered witch, standing stock still and silent, she couldn't have been over 18. Her tattered dirty robes barely managed to cover a slender body covered with bruises. She had no doubted been beaten and raped repeatedly, senselessly, as with all half attractive female prisoners. Her long dark hair was matted and dirty, barely contained by a frayed ribbon a fiery shade of red. Her face was pretty, even bruised he could tell she must have been a beauty. But her eyes caught his attention the most. Draco had expected many things, fear, desperation, humiliation, the eyes of someone whose spirit had broken, but he never expected what he got. Instead of the fear he had anticipated all he saw were brilliant blue green eyes blazing with defiance, and anger. His father's voice brought his eyes away from hers.
"bow down before your superiors girl!"
"no" was all the response he got. He took a menacing step forward, glaring down at the girl.
"what did you say mudblood?" he spat, his voice dangerously low, Draco recognized that tone and shivered at the memory.
"no" the girl repeated slowly "I bow down to no one, least of all you". Lucius' normally pale skin tinged pink with anger.
"BOW!" he shouted down at her, the veins popping out in his neck. She simply shrugged her shoulders and leaned against a tree
"no" she repeated simply.
"looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson, mudblood" he growled and taking out his wand and pointing it toward the witch yelled "Crucio!"
Draco closed his eyes, he knew what was coming, and for some reason it didn't give him the satisfaction it should have, he couldn't watch her get tortured. But the screams never came, he opened his eyes, and there was the girl, still standing, her back against the tree, glaring at the man trying to make her bow down before him, silent. The only sign of her pain was the tightness of her facial muscles, and her hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into her palms, a drop of blood dripping from where she had clenched her hands so hard her nails had broken the skin. She knew what would happen if she defied him, but it seems she didn't care, even if it meant death. He stared at the witch in astonishment, a new respect growing for her despite himself.
"damnit girl scream" he muttered under his breath, he knew that, having been on the receiving end of many of a cruciartus(sp?) curse from his father, he would ease up when he heard the screams, not before. He watched as his father lowered his wand, his eyes slightly widened in suppressed surprise, he had expected her to scream and cry, beg for mercy, for her life, just like all the others had before her. And then, she delivered the largest shock of all, she laughed. Another death eater stepped forward
"what are you laughing at mudblood?" he asked, in a gravely voice dangerously low. "I'm laughing at you" and for the 3rd time that night Draco's jaw dropped, what the fuck was she doing? Did she want to be killed?
"and why pray tell are you laughing at us, when you're nothing but a filthy little mudblood bitch, no better than scum?" he asked, the ends of his lips curling up in a cruel smile.
"do I really need to tell you" she asked almost exasperatedly
"please do" he responded, his cruel smile resolute.
"well I'll start with the obvious, you've sold your souls to a half blooded hypocritical fool who wants to eradicate all those with muggle blood, and become blind to the fact that blood doesn't make a difference in a witch, and you can't even see that you're fighting a battle you will never win. I feel sorry for you frankly, you've lost sight of everything important" she replied bluntly, her voice clear. The girl never ceased to amaze him, standing up to Lucius Malfoy was one thing when he was your father, but now, even at his scariest, the girl never faltered, and her gaze never wavered.
"NO ONE SPEAKS OF THE DARK LORD IN SUCH A WAY!" Lucius shouted, all control gone.
"YOU WILL PAY FOR YOU DISRESPECT!" there was a pause in which the only sounds that could be heard was Lucius's heavy breathing and the hoot of a far off owl before Lucius spoke again, raising his wand "AVADA KEDAVERA!" A flash of green light and the girl slumped back against the tree, her eyes closed, and her lips inexplicably turned up in a slight smile, like she knew something they didn't.
He smiled a forced, joyless smile; deep down he felt something from the depths of his mind screaming how wrong this was. The other death eaters were silent no longer, genuine smiles on their faces, evil grins, like this was proof of their superiority, that the witch was dead and they weren't.
Draco looked back at her, away from the other death eaters congratulating his father on a job well done; even in death, her pretty features were curled in the knowing smile, and it was hard to believe that someone with her spirit could, with a flick of his father's wand, be dead, never to rise again, as she had so many times before.
Is this what it meant to a death eater? To kill and enjoy it? Not for revenge, or for power, or malice, or even in self defense, those he could understand, but simply for the joy of killing? And an innocent no less, someone who had never done anything warranting this type of blatant disregard for the human life, she had simply been born into the wrong family. They acted like it was her fault, as she had chosen to be who she was, chosen who her family was or chosen to be a witch.
When all along all she had been was another witch who had been trying to get along with her life. She was someone's daughter, someone's sister, maybe even someone's wife or mother, and they would never know what happened to her, never find out about her life taken heartlessly on a starry night.
She had shown more dignity in death than his father had shown in his whole life, bowing down to kiss the dark lord's robes on threat of torture and death. Well she had known both, and never once did she give in, or even bow. She had been through so much already, yet she didn't beg, or plead, or cry; she stood straight and defiant.
And Draco had to respect her for that; it didn't matter whether she had been a muggle or pureblood. And in these realizations he knew he could never do it.
He could never become a death eater, he could never bow down to the dark lord, he could never kill and love it as they did, he could never become one of them. He could never become everything that had been expected of him, he could not become his father.