Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…now, about the story: it virtually ignores HBP, although it does include Draco becoming a deatheater and Snape already being one.

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Draco Malfoy stomped into Professor Severus Snape's office, slammed his bag down on one of the desks, and glowered at his teacher, mentor, and care-giver, his eyes gleaming wildly.

Snape looked up from the papers he had been grading and stared unnervingly at his pupil. "Bad day?" he asked, his voice sedate.

Draco pointed a trembling finger at Snape. "Do you know what he did this time!?" he shouted, his voice ringing throughout the entire room.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "I assume we are talking about your father?" he inquired, knowing fully well what the answer would be.

Draco began to pace the room, his shoulders bent, his neck stiff. "Of course we're talking about that bastard!" he cried, throwing his hands up in the air in despair.

Snape laced his long, bony fingers together, gazing intently at the vehement boy stalking around his office. "Well, then," Snape began, "tell me what exactly that…'bastard'-as you put it- …did to you this time."

"He wants me to join the deatheaters," Draco said, fuming.

Suddenly Snape sat up. "What!?"

"He wants me to join the deatheaters," Draco repeated, running a hand through his blonde hair. "But that's not even the worst part…" he continued.

"Not the worst part!" Snape exclaimed, looking at Draco in concern.

"I am going to be Lord Voldemort's personal attendant and deatheater," Draco muttered, his cheeks burning red.

Snape stared at him. "Does your mother know about this?"

"No-" Draco looked steadily at his teacher. "But she'll find out tonight."

"Why?" Snape asked, standing up. "What's tonight?"

"My induction," Draco said simply, his eyebrows raised. Snape stared at him, shaking his head. "You would have thought," Draco continued slyly, "that the Lord's most valuable and highest-ranking deatheater would have known about this…"

Snape glared at him. "This is not a time to play around Draco," he uttered, "you have no idea what you are getting into."

Draco glared scornfully at him. "I wasn't playing around…" He laughed.

Snape gazed steadily at him. "Tell me Draco," Snape said casually, "have you ever murdered a man?"

Draco stared at him. "…No."

"Tortured a young girl? Watched her suffer?" Snape's eyes narrowed. "And then laughed about it?"

Draco looked into Snape's coal-black eyes. "No."

"You will tonight," Snape murmured.

Draco paled. "That's what you do during initiation?" he asked, his hands beginning to shake.

"Yes," Snape said. "I am telling you Draco," his eyes softened as he gazed upon his student, "you are not a killer…"

Draco began shaking his head back and forth, as though trying to make the words dissaparate out of his head. "I have to be," he said, a forlorn look falling upon his face. "I made a choice," he continued, looking directly into Snape's face, his own face strangely void of emotion. "I made a choice to be a Malfoy, now I have to be one…" Draco stood up straighter and his eyes seemed to access a level of maturity far beyond his years. "We do what we must…"

Snape patted Draco reassuringly on the back. "Don't we all," he said, "don't we all…"

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Okay, well, this was actually a pretty interesting story to write. If people leave me enough reviews, I might expand upon it. Usually I focus on romance, but I just like the complexity of Draco Malfoy's character so much that I decided instead to write a story based on his relationship with Severus Snape—actually, my inspiration for their relationship in this story came from Harry and Sirius' relationship in the actual books (although Draco and Snape are darker, and slightly more evil and amoral)…