Gates that once kept the dangers of the world from coming in were now iron bars that so accurately represented the situation Draco Malfoy now found himself in. He had but a few moments to reflect on his unfortunate predicament before he would be forced to join the other death eaters in the dining room for another meeting. The only students left at Hogwarts were those whose parents were not directly involved in the war. Crabbe and Goyle would often visit the manor with their parents, clearly being groomed to become death eaters. They had both been taught the unforgivable curses and showed aptitude for once in their lives. During this time of transition, the Malfoy name had sunk lower and lower. It was to the point that Draco had to be very careful when interacting with who he used to consider to be friends. They still followed him, but only just... It was only a matter of time before they would go off on their own way, leaving Draco to be swallowed whole in his family's ruin.
"Draco, it's time..." a soft voice beckoned from the entrance of his room.
"Just another minute," Draco answered, still looking through the window, longing for any escape.
"Now. The Dark Lord doesn't like to be kept waiting. We have to be even more careful..." Narcissa insisted.
"Why?" he breathed, not expecting any answer. He wasn't willing to expand on the question he had just blurted out without much thought. It was a single desperate wish to be free of the monstrous threat lurking in his own home. Why had this happened to them? He knew why, of course. They were much like Icarus, and Voldemort was the sun threatening to send his whole family hurdling down into oblivion.
"Don't ask questions like that," she replied quickly, grabbing her son by the arm and forcibly taking him with her.
Draco begrudgingly walked with his mother and joined her in the dining room where death eaters and even Voldemort was already waiting. That meant they were late after all. His moment's hesitation was enough to earn them even more embarrassment and dishonor.
"Narcissa... Draco... At last we are graced by your presence..." Voldemort greeted in that sickly whisper of a voice that penetrated through Draco's every waking thought and every deep sleep, the omnipotent presence ever watching and waiting for him to make a mistake.
"My lord," Narcissa greeted, taking the seat beside Lucius.
Draco was silent as he took the next seat. All eyes were on the both of them. They looked hungry... As the Malfoys fell, there was an opening for one of those loyal death eaters to take his father's place. It had already been taken, of course. By Severus Snape, no less. But as the Malfoys continued to fall, new opportunities arose for everyone in the room. The death eater that could shame his father would be rewarded and be able to bask in their leader's good graces. It made Draco's stomach knot to think about it. Of course he thought his family was the highest class family in the room, the most deserving of any privilege, whether he wanted it or not.
Unfortunately, Draco was the weakness bringing his family down. He had learned last year that he didn't have the steel to follow in his father's footsteps let alone be worthy to sit among a room full of people that would stand up and kill on command. Interestingly, Voldemort hadn't put him in that position again so soon after the incident with Albus Dumbledore. Instead, he seemed to be pushing Draco's morals and severe lack of courage. He was required to torture people occasionally. Sometimes he didn't know who the victim was, other times he pretended not to know them. His performance was so dismal that only half the time would his wand cooperate with the words he uttered. The failures were followed by severe punishment to frighten him into compliance, but it didn't seem to help. It was only a matter of time until they would decide that he was a hopeless case and move on. That wouldn't mean Draco would be off the hook, but rather sent on increasingly dangerous missions until the problemresolved itself. He had seen it before with other less fortunate individuals and he could see the writing on the wall.
The meeting participants discussed the usual topics. Where was Potter, and how would they go about turning Hogwarts into a mechanism to train and mould the students into "ideal" witches and wizards loyal to Voldemort. When it was finally over, he joined Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Slytherins he was acquainted with that had family members attending the meeting. Sons and daughters of death eaters. They too were being moulded, but as fighters. Merciless informants that would turn on him at a moment's notice. He knew better than to trust them. He sat down in one of the chairs, finding it easier to keep his countenance in front of his peers compared to the solemn dining room surrounded by men who would most gladly murder on command just to show him how it was done.
