The Difference

Between Need and Want

I am Draco Lucius Malfoy. I used to think that being a death eater was all that mattered. I know now that I was mistaken.

Professor Binns was undoubtedly the most boring professor that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever possessed. He was always sure to put at least half of his class to sleep, and today would prove to be no different. Draco Malfoy had spent the first ten minutes of class looking politely interested, but as the hand of the clock above the door slowly crawled its way to noon, he'd given up the pretense altogether. He had spent the last several minutes drawing out a scene on his parchment where Professor Binns was being hit over the head by a particularly fat troll. Draco allowed himself a small smile, which quickly turned into a look of exasperation. He gave a soft sigh and looked back up at the clock. It was only 11:33.

He had given considerable thought to ditching this class and going up to the seventh floor corridor. The thought was quickly banished when he remembered that he had already missed his herbology class the previous day. Two classes missed on his first week back to Hogwarts would look suspicious; something he couldn't afford to do.

He found his mind beginning to wander in the warmer than usual classroom. He searched through his memories until he came upon that fateful night. It always amazed him that that one night had changed his life so severely. He remembered it so clearly. The weather was cold and rainy…

************************Flashback****************************

Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but give a smirk of satisfaction. He knew what most of the girls at Hogwarts would give just to touch him. He knew how handsome he was and used his looks to his advantage. Tonight was no exception. He wore a black satin shirt and slacks. Overtop of this was a traveling cloak that was both durable and silky to the touch. He fingered the sleeve lovingly, remembering that it had cost a small fortune. And on his feet, just visible beneath the cloak, were a pair of the best dragon-hide boots that money could buy. Nothing less was acceptable for a Malfoy.

His skin was as soft and pale as porcelain. His platinum blonde hair, usually slicked back with gel, now hung loosely in his face. He flipped his head to the side to get his hair out of his face, which now revealed his eyes. They were a stormy gray with little flecks of blue surrounding his pupil. Piercing and demanding, yet unyieldingly beautiful. Usually hidden by an icy glare, his true feeling shown through now. His eyes showed his fear and anxiety. He didn't want this, his father did.

All of his life he had been told that this was his purpose, what he was created for. To serve his lord. To bring honor to the Malfoy name. Nothing else was important save this. He remembered being so annoyingly proud of the fact that he would serve Voldemort. Should he return to power of course. Though never did he truly expect the dark lord to return. He had gone through rigorous training with private tutors for as long as he could remember. He just never expected to need anything he learned.

Now that his fate was upon him he couldn't help but feel a dark cloud of doom looming overhead. He inhaled a shaky breath. "Calm down," he told himself," the dark lord mustn't see your fear." If there was one rule a Malfoy must never break, it was to never let you true feelings show. Over the years Draco had gotten this down to perfection. Taking one more deep breath he forced a mask of calm over his face, so that his look resembled a cold indifference. And his eyes, which had just moments ago been so fearful, now held a look of determination he did not feel. This was the Draco Malfoy everyone knew and hated. Full of pride and spite just like his father, Lucius.

He straightened his collar once more and took a fleeting glance in the mirror before heading for his door. Closing the door with a soft click he started down the stairs. Upon arriving in the entrance hallway, a house-elf told him he was to go to the parlor. His mother was waiting for him there.

He gave a soft knock on the door before entering, and then steeped inside. His mother was sitting with her back toward him. He went around the room and came to a stop at his mother's side. She was so thin and pale these days, since her husband had been arrested and taken to Azkaban. He knew, though was not sure why, his mother missed his father. He supposed they must have once been in love, but his father's mood had grown blacker with each passing year. He found it hard to believe that his father could love. But then, the same could be said about him. He almost laughed at this last thought. Almost, but not quite.

He touched her shoulder gently. "Mother?" he asked. She looked up at him slowly. The dead, hollow look in her eyes frightened him, though he said nothing. She had been like this since the night before, when he first received his summons.

"It is time," she said quietly. She got up and walked over to the fire place, then took a handful of floo powder from the mantle. She gave Draco an expecting look. With a small sigh Draco walked over to stand next to his mother. At the respectable height of 6'1, he was now several inches taller than her. After dispensing half of the floo powder into her son's hand, she threw the rest into the fire. The flames now burst into a brilliant shade of green. Narcissa Malfoy stepped up to the fire then, at the last second, turned to face Draco. She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands. A single tear slipped down her check. "If I could save you from this fate, I would," she whispered.

Then she turned and with a loud, clear voice shouted "Riddle Mansion!"

************************End Flashback*************************

The bell jolted Draco awake. He looked around and saw people leaving for lunch. He got up and packed away his quill and parchment. Professor Binns floated back through the chalkboard, no doubt on his way to the teachers lounge. With Crabb and Goyle waiting for him, he heaved his schoolbag over his shoulder and headed out the door. All through his walk to lunch his mother's voice echoed in his head. "If I could save you from this fate, I would….."