Author's Note: This was written for RolledupinOne, who left a review on another story of mine, "The Malfoys and the World Cup." RolledupinOne wanted me to write a story on how Draco's thoughts on Voldemort's return and on serving Voldemort have changed since the Quidditch World Cup. This story explores Draco's thoughts in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapter 1, "The Dark Lord Ascending," especially in regards to Charity Burbage.

Draco could not help but look up at the unconscious woman hanging upside down, as if by invisible ropes, above his family's dining table.

Draco also could not help but think about the Quidditch World Cup and how his father and other Death Eaters had suspended four Muggles in the air, also as if by invisible ropes. Draco had been deeply amused by that event.

But this was totally different. This wasn't about a group of people having some drunken fun. This wasn't about some immature amusement. This was more serious, more sinister.

Draco remembered his father telling him that the four Muggles had their memories modified so that they wouldn't remember what had happened to them.

This woman, though, was not going to be as fortunate. She was going to suffer something a lot more permanent. There was not going to be any Memory Charms involved.

Draco was both amazed and horrified when Snape was not bothered or fazed when the woman called out his name, his first name. These two had to know each other pretty well for her to refer to him by his first name. Yet, Snape didn't seem to care at all. He barely looked at her. It was as if she didn't mean anything to him, even though he clearly meant something to her.

Draco suddenly found himself thinking about Hermione Granger. He remember when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and how he had hoped that she would be the one Mudblood to die.

Now, though, Draco couldn't comprehend how he could have ever wished for such a thing. He didn't want Granger to die. He didn't want this woman, Charity Burbage, to die. He didn't want anyone to die just because they were not a Pureblood.

"'Avada Kedavra,'" the Dark Lord cried.

Charity Burbage's body fell down onto the table with a loud crash.

Draco found himself looking into her eyes. They were completely devoid of any emotion. They were blank. They were lifeless.

This was death, and it was horrifying.

Not that long ago, Draco had wished death on people such as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

But not anymore.

Draco fell out of his chair and onto the floor below, but his mind did not register the impact.

I was such a naïve idiot, he thought, to think that I really wanted this. I don't want any of this. I don't want to see anyone being murdered in front of me.

"'Dinner, Nagini,''' the Dark Lord breathed.

Draco watched in horror as the giant snake slithered toward Charity Burbage's body. Then, he had to look away. He couldn't bear to watch the snake devouring her.

Was this how the Dark Lord truly intended to achieve Pureblood supremacy? There was nothing glorious about this. This was terrifying. This was disgusting. This wasn't right.

Draco had been so proud when he had first received the Dark Mark.

But not anymore.

The Dark Mark represented everything that he didn't really want.

The Dark Mark represented nothing but unspeakable horror, a horror which Draco no longer wanted any part of.