A/N: Hiya! This my first story, so I don't even know if I did this right. Maybe it didn't even update. I don't know. Maybe I'm talking to myself right now. Hopefully not. Anyway, show it some love, please!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or I'd be riding on a unicorn right now. I don't own Halsey's music either. Look up the song, it fits really good with this story.

Warning: This is excessively depressing. Why is my first story so depressing? I don't know.

They send me away to find them a fortune

A chest filled with diamonds and gold

The house was awake

With shadows and monsters

The hallways they echoed and groaned

"Please, My Lord, he is but a boy, he is considerably young—"

"He must make up his father's folly." Voldemort's cool, silken voice slipped quietly over Narcissa's, who's was now tinged with panic.

It wasn't my father's folly at all, Draco thought rebelliously, his heart hammering with fear. He was kneeling before the monster before him, head bowed, blond hair falling onto his forehead. Voldemort had miscalculated, and if it wasn't for Potter—

A surge of hatred flowed through him, tightening the muscles in his face. He did not dare look up.

"Besides, the boy is honored. Aren't you, Draco?"

Draco bit down so hard on his tongue he tasted blood. "Yes, My Lord." he responded without stammer, his tone sounding even slightly bored.

There was a pause.

"Then it is done."

Draco heard his mother's muffled scream; and listened to her flee the hall. Bellatrix clucked her tongue in disapproval. "Embarrassing, ain't it?" she said, sniggering, pulling him up to his feet when Voldemort glided from the room. Draco was wise enough to know to not reply. "Your mother, boy. She always was such a coward. That's why I have the Mark, and she doesn't!" Bellatrix said in a smug tone, pulling up her sleeve to show him the Dark Mark. It writhed upon her pale skin, skin so like his. A similar Mark was now upon his arm as well. He hated it.

"Yes, Aunt."

"I'm rather glad that Our Lord chose you for this task." Bellatrix said, smiling at him wickedly. "I know you've got a bit more in you than your father— I'll reckon it's the Black blood in you. Them Malfoys were always such a shrewd lot, always forcing the ones beneath them to do their dirty work, while they got all the credit." Bellatrix cackled. Draco stared at her. She was revolting.

"Now, off to bed with you. You've got an awfully big day tomorrow, doncha?" His aunt shoved him towards the door. "Goodnight!"

Draco slept fitfully. His dreams were never quite the same since Voldemort came back to power.

His morning consisted of gray sunlight and a nightmare. He sat straight up, breathing hard and sweating. He tried remembering what the dream was about, but all he detected was a cold sense of fear. He swallowed, and got dressed.

"He's waiting for you in the drawing room, dear." Bellatrix said in a sickeningly sweet voice when he reached the kitchen. A cold fist clenched about his heart, and the fear that had been swimming in his mind during his nightmare came back, full force. He wondered what would happen if he didn't go.

He didn't want to find out. He took a breath and stepped into the drawing room.

Draco stared at the ground, his eyes wandering across the stone floor to the hem of a black robe.

Voldemort smiled.

"Good morning, Draco."

He screamed.

He lay bleeding upon the floor, his blood looking distorted. Was the ground always this red?

"Control, Draco, control," Voldemort said patiently, a hint of malice hidden in his eyes. His eyes— his eyes looked very much like Draco's blood.

He pointed his wand again at Draco and his wounds sealed up. Spots of pain still lingered in Draco's eyes; he wondered if they'd ever leave.

Voldemort did not even give him a minute of relief. "Crucio!"

Pain exploded through his system, causing him to arch his back, clenching his hands into fists. His nails dug into his palms. His vision went upside down. He refused to scream. He refused to scream. He refused to scream.

He clenched his teeth and struggled to remain conscious.

Voldemort lifted his wand, and smiled. "Good."

Draco collapsed. The world spun.

"No more screaming. We will continue this tomorrow." Voldemort said, as if he was teaching a class.

Draco tried to breathe. "Yes, My Lord." he responded weakly, still no stutter in his tone. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Get up, boy." he said suddenly, harshly. He was determined to break him. For if a boy wouldn't yield, why would Dumbledore?

Draco fought back a whimper, and placed his hands on the ground. They slipped on his blood.

He got up shakily to his feet, dripping red.

Voldemort examined him, and for a moment, admired the boy's will.

"Tomorrow, Draco, you will not scream."

He left the room, and Draco fainted.

"Son."

His father spoke the word as if it was a disease, in a voice so distasteful that Draco wondered exactly why his father hated him so much.

"Father." he replied, bowing his head. His voice was afraid.

"Have you finished your chores?"

"Yes." Draco murmured. "I wondered—I wondered if—" His voice gave out, like a sputtering flame.

"Yes?" Lucius urged coldly. "I don't have all day, Draco."

His face burned. "I wondered if you could play quidditch with me, just for a little while." Draco said in one breath, sounding terrified.

There was a tense silence.

"Silly boy. Don't you see that I have no time for you and your foolish nonsense?" Lucius snarled. "Get out of my office, and do something useful!"

Draco left.

He was eight.

Draco had accidentally cried in front of his father when he broke his toy boat. He had been working on it all afternoon, and had wanted his father to be proud, not angry. He hadn't known that boats were muggle.

Lucius kicked the boy down the stairs, allowing him to break his arm at the bottom, splitting his head on the last step.

After healing him, he left his broken body at the foot of the staircase. A crumpled, neglected child, untouched by love.

He was four.

Draco did not cry again.

A/N: Depressing, huh? I warned you! And I have no idea why I added those memories at the end. I just wanted you guys to feel even worse for poor, wittle Dwaco:( Wait for the next chapter, it gets worse!:)

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