Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Lines In the Sand
At the end of his fourth year, Draco Malfoy was practically screaming with glee. The Dark Lord had returned. He would finally get his chance to join the ranks of the Death Eaters, earn his father's approval, and maybe even step out of his shadow for the first time in his life. The best part being that the Ministry was denying the whole thing, calling Diggory's death an accident, Potter an "emotionally and mentally disturbed liar", and Dumbledore an old nutter. Yes, Draco Malfoy was extremely happy. But how long could that possibly last?
During the summer before his sixth year, Draco Malfoy was a little less happy then he was one year ago. Sure his father was in Azkaban, but that didn't matter because Draco had already stepped up to take his place among the Death Eaters. His first assignment: kill Albus Dumbledore. Yes, it was daunting, but he didn't care. He was on top of the world! The only thing to worry was his distraught mother. She hadn't really been the same since Father's sentencing, and Aunt Bella's gloating didn't help much either. Yes, Draco Malfoy was still happy, just somewhat worried.
Midway through his sixth year, he'd had enough. He didn't want the job, he didn't want Snape's help, and he didn't want his crazy aunt trying to give tips every other day! In fact, he'd been contemplating what it was like, siding with Dumbledore, joining the Order of the Phoenix, and not having to worry about getting killed all the time. No, the lines in the sand had been drawn long ago, he'd chosen his path, and Potter and his stupid friends had chosen theirs. There was no turning back.