Hi! This is a sequel to my other fic Through Someone Else's Eyes, but you definitely don't have to read that to get this one. Just for the record, Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue me. I hope you enjoy!

-Kit Kat

Draco could feel his heartbeat race. The drawing room of Malfoy Manor was large, dark, and cold. A diminishing light barely lit the large table at which many people in midnight black robes sat, looking aloof, serene, and some…terrified. Draco sat in a stiff, ornate chair next to his father, who was staring straight ahead with his nose in the air. Narcissa, on Lucius's other side, stared at her hands and shivered.

They were arguing, the Death Eaters, about Harry Potter. When he'd be moved. The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table. His blood red eyes searched each of his servants. The huge pet snake he called Nagini slithered around the arm of it's master's chair. When Voldemort talked, everyone listened. The sat in cowering fear. He was speaking now.

"…I shall need, for instance," he drawled. His voice was raspy and unmerciful, "to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

Everyone sat in reserved shock, horror on each face. To take a wizard's wand was to take away his power. That's why many joined the Dark Lord in the first place. For power or out of fear. The Dark Lord preyed on both.

Voldemort stood, his black robes grazing the floor. Nagini slithered along at his feet. He walked around the table slowly, as if trying to decide whose wand to take. He paused here and there, running his pale long-fingered hand along each chair. Each time the Dark Lord passed someone, they flinched. He was getting closer. Lucius stared straight ahead as he passed, his jaw clenched. Finally, he reached Draco. The Dark Lord paused. Draco stared at his feet, refusing to look the man…if he could even be called a man any longer…in the eyes. Voldemort seemed to ponder him for a while, gazing down at the young Malfoy's white-blond head. Narcissa let out a slight squeak, like a frightened mouse. As if to say Don't touch my baby. She regretted it immediately. Voldemort barely glanced at her, then turned back around towards his own side of the table. Draco breathed a horrifically audible sigh of relief, that is, until he released the Dark Lord had paused at his father again.

"No volunteers?" Voldemort said scathingly, "Let's see…Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

"My Lord?" he stuttered. Lucius looked up at his master with sunken, pleading eyes. Azkaban had done things to Draco's father. Made him sick…and even colder than before. Draco remembered the day of the breakout. He remembered seeing his father again for the first time. It was somewhere between pity and love and resentment. All the same, it was true, Lucius had no reason for a wand anymore. He couldn't even leave the Manor if not in disguise. Because they would take him back.

Voldemort found every reason to punish the elder Malfoy every since his mistake at the Ministry. He tried to take his son, to give him an impossible task, and now he was taking his wand.

"You're wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I…"

Narcissa lifted her pale hand from her lapped and clenched her husband wrist. At her touch, Lucius drew his wand from inside his robes and handed it to the Dark Lord.

~~~~xXx~~~~

Draco sat at his dark oak desk. His hand shook as he dipped his quill into the tar-black ink. He swept the quill across the crisp new parchment and wrote,

I'm sorry I haven't written. I'm sure you don't understand. I'm worried, I haven't heard from you. It's horrible here. I can't say much more. I still love you,

DM

Draco had found a shred of light in these dark days. She was beautifully, and he loved her. Draco hadn't ever truly loved anyone before until now. It was scary, but exhilarating. He knew he was putting her life in danger. Her whole family in danger. Sadly, he was to selfish to care.

He placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it. He watch his eagle owl soar off into the stormy black sky, distorted by frothy grey clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The world was crumbling and he was one who had knocked over the first domino.