Draco Malfoy looked into the mirror, his worn reflection peering back at him. He saw the dark bags under his eyes, his hollow gaze, and his even paler than usual skin. He rubbed a hand over his face, turning away from his reflection to sit on the end of his four-poster. Draco hung his head in his hands and listened to the quiet ticking of the clock in the Slytherin boys' dormitory.

The past year had been no walk in the park for one Draco Malfoy. Last year, Draco's father, Lucius, had been assigned a task by the Dark Lord. This task, of utmost importance, was to get Harry Potter to the Ministry of Magic so he would retrieve a prophecy for them. It sounds like a simple enough task – how hard could it be for his father, the great Lucius Malfoy, to get a stupid teenage boy to the Ministry of Magic? Apparently, it was harder than Draco thought because his father had failed. For this, Draco and his family had paid dearly. The Dark Lord had been none too pleased and had punished them mercilessly for Lucius's blunder. No one though, had paid more of a price than Draco. The Dark Lord was creative with his punishments, oh yes. Instead of damning Lucius outright, he decided to target his family. So he gave Draco a task to be completed by the end of Draco's sixth year. A task so difficult, that he was sure to fail. And that was the beauty of it – when Draco failed his impossible task, he would be killed and Lucius would lose his precious heir, and only then would Lucius and Narcissa die.

Draco ultimately had two tasks - one was to repair a broken Vanishing Cabinet to be used to let the other Death Eaters into Hogwarts when the time came. The other most difficult and most important task was to kill the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Draco had been working on both tasks tirelessly for what felt like forever, but was actually the beginning half of his sixth year.

Draco got up and went to his bedside table, picking up the most recent letter sent to him by his mother and sat down on his bed again. Draco ran his finger over the letters of his mother's signature, wondering if she was really as okay as she said she was. Narcissa was the only thing that kept Draco going. He knew that if he wasn't strong enough to complete his task, the Dark Lord would not only kill him, but his mother as well. Draco couldn't bear the thought.

Lucius, well, he was the one who had gotten Draco into this mess. As a child, Draco had always looked up to his father. Lucius was always so powerful, commanding respect. All Draco ever wanted was to make his father proud. So, he bought into all the pureblood bollocks his father said. He listened and took it all in, emulating his father. When he grew up, Draco realized what Lucius had done to them, all in the name of those beliefs. He saw everything that the Dark Lord had become and the way that his proud father cowered at the feet of a madman. That was when Draco stopped being so prideful and started getting scared.

Despite knowing all this, Draco had to save his family. There was nothing else for it. So he kept up his façade as best he could, and worked on his tasks. Draco had already destroyed the Room of Requirement three times out of frustration over the Vanishing Cabinet. The worst part though, was attempting to get to Dumbledore. Draco didn't want to kill anyone, especially Albus Dumbledore. Sure, he was an old coot, but he had always been nice to Draco, despite the fact that his father was Lucius Malfoy. Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore was a very powerful wizard and possibly the only one that could help rid the world of Voldemort. The failed attempts to kill the headmaster tortured Draco endlessly. Not only did it feel like he would never get near enough to harm the old man and complete his task, but he was also hurting others in the process. He had almost killed that Katie Bell girl, all because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Draco had never been nice, but he knew he wasn't a killer.

As a result of this torment, Draco was sure that people were getting suspicious and that he wasn't looking nearly as put-together as he used to. Draco had pushed away all of his friends, but they could tell he was killing himself over something. He realized that Potter was getting very suspicious; he was watching him in class, tailing him in the halls, and overall being very stalker-like. That was becoming problematic, for Potter couldn't find out what was happening or he would surely stop him. Potter was always saving the day. Saint Potter, thought Draco spitefully. Draco had certainly never liked Harry Potter, but he knew now that Potter was probably the best chance the Wizarding World had. Still, Draco envied him his freedom. Draco had no freedom and definitely had no choices. He was destined to be the villain and Potter, the hero. Everyone pitied Saint Potter for the death of his parents and the target on his back. And here Draco was, between a rock and a hard place and no one was there to pity him. Not even Potter could save him now.

Draco shook himself out of his dark thoughts, and stood up from his bed, once again returning to the mirror. He attempted to make himself look presentable before giving up. Draco looked into his own steel-grey eyes and gathered his resolve, then he turned heel and headed out the door.