Chapter 1:

The man finished buttoning his black shirt and looked at himself in the mirror in front of him. His face was gaunt, sparkling gray eyes accented with dark circles. He looked nearly as exhausted as he felt. Nightmares kept haunting him, especially visions of Dumbledore's death. He ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, thinking about how his mother wouldn't like that he hadn't been sleeping.

His father would just laugh.

A shiver ran through him at the thought. This was the first time he would see his father after he... Well, after he and his father had a fight. His mother was trying to set him up with another pureblood girl, most likely a distant relative, and most likely desperate. He was tired of his mother trying to force him into something he didn't want. He shook his head and pulled on the sleek charcoal jacket. For some reason, he felt the need to dress nicely, the same way his father had forced him to dress as a child. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and apparated to the tall fence surrounding the manor where he had lived most of his life.

He walked quietly thorough the fog, slightly nervous to see his father again. He saw a ghostly white figure approach him, but he stayed calm. It was a pale white peacock. His father used the poor creatures for decoration, just to use his wealth to intimidate people.

"Filthy pureblood elitist bastard," Draco mumbled.

He remembered how much he had loved and looked up to his father as a child, and regretted every minute. He kept walking the path that many Death Eaters had walked, remembering in particular the evening when Voldemort himself had sat at his table. They had killed a teacher that night. Draco shuddered at the memories, and the memory of his recent nightmare about it, and knocked on the door. He blatantly avoided the knocker; it was in the shape of a Dark Mark. His mother pulled it open and peered out and, upon seeing him, wrapped him in a warm embrace.

And then his father appeared, radiating cold, sporting a haughty look.

Draco nodded at his father, who sneered at him, noticing the circles under Draco's eyes. "Not sleeping well enough, Draco? Been up too late searching for a man to…" Draco narrowed his eyes at his father.

"Lucius!" His mother snapped, staring at his father with angry eyes. Draco followed her through the huge foyer. He remembered the time he had tried to save Potter and his friends but they ended up here. Granger had been scarred here, by his aunt. How can they be so cruel? Draco thought to himself. Narcissa led Draco into the dining room, where the long table was set in their best china and silver. He remembered this tablecloth from that night. How did they get all of the blood out? A small, fair skinned girl about his age sat at the head of the table. Her black hair was slicked back and adorned with a flowery silver pin filled with emeralds. A Slytherin. She looked up at Draco with large brown eyes and fluttery lashes. He recognized her. It was Pansy Parkinson.

Draco looked at his mother, angry. She knew Pansy had ended their relationship after he refused to kill Dumbledore in their 6th year. She called him weak and unfit to be called a Death Eater. Draco wished he wouldn't have been forced to do Voldemort's bidding, or his father's. He didn't know which was worse.

Narcissa looked at the seat to Pansy's right, indicating that he should sit. He did, just to follow his mother's wishes. Pansy gave Draco a sickly sweet smile. "I've heard that you are the most eligible pureblooded bachelor." She took a sip of wine that smelled just as falsely smooth as she was acting.

"I'm not very eligible to people like you, Miss Parkinson." Draco cut a piece out of his steak and ate it. It was dry. A house elf brought him a glass of water which he took a sip of and set on the table. He grinned at Pansy as her face turned bright red, as did his father's. His mother just went paler.

"What do you mean?" She stuttered, looking wild and angry, accentuating her pug-like features.

"Pansy, as mother seems to forget, I am no longer interested in being a Death Eater, nor am I a pureblood extremist. And, another very critical fact, I don't like women." She stuttered, and opened her mouth and closed silently like a fish, and finally stood. He drank again while Pansy stood and stormed out, thin black dress she had picked to impress him billowing out behind her. The house elf cleared her plate, a slight smile on his face. It was apparent he didn't like her one bit more than Draco did.

Lucius stood after Pansy had left, veins in his head popping out. "Why would your ruin a perfect chance like that?" He hissed, leaning across the table, face inches away from Draco's. He looked furious. Draco just continued eating, calm and unafraid.

Lucius smacked the fork from Draco's hand, even more angered. "You have disgraced this family again. Did you not understand the lesson from last time, foolish child?" His voice was shaking the chandelier above them.

Draco looked his father in the eye. "I am not a child, nor am I foolish. You are the foolish one, father, with all of your old fashioned pure blood nonsense. The only thing I understood from that beating you call a lesson is that you're more insane than you look." Lucius strolled around the table and smacked Draco with his dark ebony cane, his face splitting upon contact. The cut on his cheekbone started bleeding, but Draco ignored it, not letting his guard down in front of his father.

"Never speak to me like that again, Draco. I helped bring you into this world; I will not hesitate to take that away." Lucius spat venomously at his son. Narcissa looked at her men with teary eyes. Her intelligent yet sick looking son, whose blood was dripping onto the thick green carpets. Her insane and angry husband, who had caused him to bleed. Draco gave Lucius a steady look as he dabbed at his cut with the napkin, trying to stop the bleeding. Lucius looked at his son in disgust. "You are not coming back here, nor are we going to visit you. You are forbidden from these grounds. Get out of my house."

Draco silently left, leaving a trail of blood droplets behind, nodding at his mother in a silent goodbye as she cried.

When Draco awoke the next morning, his face was bruised. He sighed, putting his head in his hands. Why does Father hate me so much? he thought to himself, running a finger over the cut. He was even more tired than he had been the previous day. He had another nightmare, this time the one of Voldemort telling Draco he would kill him if he didn't do as he wished. And this time, he actually killed him.

He wanted to relax. He wanted to restart. But how?