No Choice, None At All
"You can say "no", you know.", his mother says to him as she fixes his cloak because one must look presentable when meeting the Dark Lord, "You don't have to do it."
He laughs, "Don't be stupid, mother.", he says, moving away and fixing his sleeve, "What Dark Lord wants, the Dark Lord gets. Isn't that right, father?", he asks because it is nearly impossible to not sense his father's presence. The light smell of alchocol consumes any room he walks into.
"See, Narcissa.", his father says, a dark smile on his face, "We raised him right."
His mother doesn't say a word.
"We're waiting on you.", he says and Draco nods.
With a nod in return, Lucius Malfoy leaves.
"You don't have to do it."
He curses under his breath.
"Of course I do."
"You don't hav-"
He breaks the mirror, and with it the image of his mother.
(He is old friends with that mirror. And with the dark corner of the bathroom.)
He wishes he could've summed up the courage to disobey the Dark L- Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort.
The fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself.
"Do you know why I hated you, Potter?", he asks when they're all expecting their children at King's Cross. His wife, Astoria, just grabs his hand tightly as the rest of them look around each other.
Harry doesn't answer.
"Do you know why I hated you?", Draco turns to him and to the rest of the trios - the golden and the silver, he called them secretly, even though he thought of them all as equals - and answers his own question simply, "You had a choice."
(Luna is the first to hug him, because she still remembers all those nights at Malfoy Manner and how he brought Dean and her food and casted a silence spell after Dean told him about her nightmares from the screams.)