Draco Malfoy sat with his chin slightly tilted as his great-grandmother slowly added his likeness stitch by stitch to the family tapestry. He took small, shallow breaths so as not to distract her from her spell. It was about time that his picture was updated, now that he was 15 years old and almost educated enough to join his father in the family business. This year he would learn exactly what the family business was.
Draco knew that his father worked for the Ministry. That much was never hidden from him. But he had learned that there was something else, something much more profitable and much more important that involved cleaning out the bad blood of Mudbloods, half-breeds, and blood traitors so that wizard kind could become pure again. The only thing was, he wasn't sure anymore that it was so necessary to do so.
"You can move now," she said.
Draco relaxed the muscles in his face glady. His father called out to him and he obediently rose and went to him.
"Draco, there is something very important that I am about to reveal to you," his father said.
Draco listened to him without excitement while his mind swirled in confusion. He felt a choice that he would soon have to make looming over his shoulders and suddenly he had no desire to find out what it was.
"Yes, Father," he said.
"My work has always been to serve the Dark Lord," his father said.
Draco looked at him and said nothing. How blunt he was being.
"I believe it is time that we accepted you into the fold, and the Dark Lord has a task for you, my son," his father said.
"What sort of task?" Draco asked.
"It is not for you to question. I will bring you to him tomorrow. Rest awhile, " his father said as he left the room.
As Draco laid his head on the pillow, he wondered if his life would have taken a different turn had Harry Potter taken his hand that first year.
Draco's sleep was fitful and he had troubling dreams.
He saw flashes of black hair. He soon realized that he was asleep and opened his eyes to see what was in front of him.
"Draco, get up!" Harry yelled, "We need need to get to Quidditch practice." Once Draco was dressed, Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him to the Quidditch pitch.\
"But I don't have my broom," Draco said.
Harry handed him one of the brooms that were in his hands.
"I don't know where you would be without me, Captain," Harry smiled.
The whole kicked off from the ground as one.
Suddenly, the dream shifted. The bodies of Draco's classmates are strewn about the ground. Harry looks up at him with a bloody face and asks, "Why? Why'd you do this?"
Draco said, "I didn't do this! It wasn't me!"
But all of the wounded and all of the dead turn their towards him in unison and said, "this is all your fault."
Draco woke with a start.
-With Voldy-
The Dark Lord stood in front of Draco and asked him to do something terrible to prove thought that he was horrible and that he was terrible and he was afraid. He knew that beyond all doubt, he did not want to belong to this...monster. He didn't want to kill Dumbledore, who was so nice to him, even though Draco repeatedly drug his name through the mud. He did not want to serve him and he did not want to do his bidding. But the snake-like appearance of the Dark Lord scared him and he was afraid to say no. He wondered what to do. When ehe looked into the eyes of the Dark Lord he could see nothing but the dark eternity of night.
"Yes, my Lord," Draco said.
He stemmed the flow of memories from his dreams and imagined them sliding into a void as dark and empty as the Dark Lord's eyes. Draco turned to face him and listened to his instructions.