AN: Yeah… just yeah. I hope you like it because I might be offended if you don't. Just kidding. I won't be. But I will be if you don't review.

Disclaimer: Ok, so I don't own any of the characters and some of the dialogue (almost half of it) and I'm not making money off of it.

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No Returning

"Past the point of no return, no backward glances:
our games of make believe are at an end."

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He rubbed the mark on his arm and snarled at the heavens. The rain turned his hair to a wet soggy mess. Little rivers ran down the back of his neck. He shook a rain drop from his nose and stomped his way home, muttering and grumbling to the fates. Once inside and in his room he shook out his hair, undressed, and sat down in his shower. The warm spray pounded down on the back of his neck as he rested his head on his knees. Water clogged his eye lashes, blinding him. He watched his fingers grow pink and wrinkled. After about 30 minuets he slammed off the water, cursed when he stubbed his tow climbing out of the tub, toweled himself dry, pulled on his pajamas, and climbed into bed.

He stared at the ceiling and listened to the hours ticking by. Black shadows danced on the dark walls, mocking and teasing. The moon glared coldly at him until he angrily pulled the drapes shut, blocking out her accusing eye. He tossed restlessly, turning from side to side, now sitting up now lying down. When he could stand it no longer he got up and ran. His feet pounded on the manor's cold stone floor as he raced through dark hallways until he could run more. He forced himself to get back to his room then fell onto the bed, exhausted. For the first time in two days he slept. And he dreamed.

People surrounded him, people in dark cloaks with masks that glittered hard and cold. He was kneeling on the cold wet grass in a cemetery. The knees of his pants were nearly soaked through. Someone approached him, a tall, dark robed someone. A someone with a soft hissing voice. And then… he was screaming. His hood had fallen off and the moonlight burned into his eyes. His forearms were bare and gleaming white but across one a black blemish was spreading. It was going to consume him. A snake tore at his flesh. A skull was all that remained of him.

He screamed and woke, gasping for air that eluded him. He slowly walked across the room to stare at his reflection in the mirror. Wide, bloodshot eyes stared back at him, their iris' swallowed up in dark pupil and gleaming whites. He was not beautiful. His white hair stuck out wildly, going every which way. Dark circles stood out against semi-translucent skin and his left cheek had red lines crossing it where it had been crushed against his pillow. He tiled his studying the boy that was him. "Who am I?" His voice was horse and raspy. "Who am I?" he demanded of the boy in the mirror. Then he shook him his head violently. Foolishness. I am Draco Malfoy. He repeated it aloud to confirm it. "I am Draco Malfoy." See? He told his reflection. You can't fool me. I know who I am. A little mark doesn't change that.

He dreaded the thought of school. Having to face those self-satisfied gits had been his main problem before but now he wasn't even thinking about them. What did they know anyway? Who were they to him? No, what bothered him now was too complicated to even think about. He turned sharply and slammed his fist into the wall, only to be rewarded with an aching hand. "Bloody hell." He started to throw his cloths into the trunk that sat on his bed. "Bloody fucking hell."

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The train chugged toward Hogwarts, in Draco's mind, slower then ever. He stared straight in front of him hardly listening to the conversation he and the other people in his compartment were having. They were talking about the new professor, Professor Slughorn, and his little group of favorites. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was lying down with his head in some girls lap but at the moment he couldn't really remember who.

Zabini was trying to close the door, and having some trouble with it, when it flew open. He and Goyle got into a fist fight and Draco was about to tell them to sit down when he saw something white flash up from Zabini's empty seat to the luggage rack and disappear. He looked around the compartment but everyone else was too intent on the fight to have seen it. He lay his head back down and began to think. Part of him, he knew, was conversing with Zabini about who had been invited with Professor Sulghorn and was bragging and making hints about leaving school, but the more important part was still thinking about the white flash… and the vanishing wardrobes.

He sat up sharply. "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

Imminently everyone who had been listing to him, spellbound, went grabbing for their trunks. Draco carefully listened for anything unusual, anything that could be connected to the white flash he'd seen earlier. He was rewarded by hearing a faint gasp of pain as Goyle's trunk hit something that wasn't there.

Everyone began to leave the compartment as the train slowed to a stop. The girl whose name he couldn't remember stayed behind as though she hoped he would walk with her. "You go on." He told her, "I just need to check on something." Looking disappointed she left. Now he was alone. Alone except for whoever was hiding in the luggage rack. Potter, he suspected.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the empty spot yelling "Petrificus totalus!" And, just as he suspected, Harry Potter tumbled out of the luggage rack, falling on top of his invisibility cloak. He grinned.

"I thought so," he sneered. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back…" He glanced at Potter's white shoes. Fury began to grow in his mind. Who did this boy think he was? It was his fault this was happening. If Potter hadn't gotten his father thrown in prison none of this would be happening.

"You didn't hear anything I care about Potter. But while I've got you here…"

His lips curled maliciously and he stamped down on Potter's face, watching the blood bloom from his nose. "That's for my father." That's for my life you've ruined.

"Now let's see…" He looked around for the invisibility cloak and, finding it, flung it over the other boy. Draco examined his work, making sure Potter was completely covered.

"I don't think they'll find you till the train's back in London." he said quietly, looking at the empty floor where Potter lay. "See you around Potter… or not."

With that he left the compartment, treading on the fingers he couldn't see.

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Despite its great beginning with Potter on the train all his fears about school came true. Potter didn't get sent back to London, the Gryffindors were their usual 'holier-then-thou' selves, teachers gave just as much work, and his mother wrote him more obsessively then usual. Also he had to meet with his father's lawyer every week (as if Mr. Malfoy would ever be let out) and his father every three weeks. And yet on top of all this he had to plan how to kill a man.

Sleep was out of the question. The shadows under his eyes grew so dark that he began to charm them away so that he wouldn't get any more oh so concerned teachers asking him about his health. He glared out the window of his dorm, damning the sunny blue sky and the laughing children, mocking his own stupidity. C'est la vie, right? Right? This is the way life is, isn't it?

At night he lay in bed, staring at the canopy. Voices whispered in his head, threats muttered under the breath of the cold night air. In his head he went over the plan time and time again. It would work. It had to work. It had to work otherwise he was dead, otherwise his father was dead, otherwise his mother was dead. It had to work.

He lived everyday with a vague sense of anxiety crawling through his stomach and lungs. It was this anxiety that forced him to struggle to concentrate in class, this anxiety that forbade the peace of sleep. He found himself jumping at shadows and getting angry even more easily then usual. He spent nearly all his time studying the cabinet, thinking of ways to repair it. It was fairly difficult magic but the Room of Requirement was providing him with lots of help. He hadn't told anyone at the school what he was going to do. He hadn't even told Snape what he was planning. He had to do it alone. The Dark Lord had been very clear on that. And he had to do it. Otherwise he would die.

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His feet pounded up the stairs. The Death Eaters were still fighting down below. He stumbled, tripping over a body. He stared at the corpse for a horrified second then ran on, pushing his feet against the stairs as he pushed the images form his head. He paused outside the door to the office, wondering. Is there a way out of this? He crushed the thought. The Dark Lord could see into his head. If he kept thinking like that the Dark Lord would punish him.

A new thought bloomed in his head and he grinned. The headmaster was one of the best wizards ever. There was no doubt he would be killed fighting him. The grin widened.

The pounding of his feet and heart as he climbed the stairs of his life seemed endless. But nothing lasts forever and at last it was over as he smashed through the door.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled. Dumbledore's wand flew into his outstretched hand. He glanced hurriedly around the room. He and Dumbledore were alone. Except… except there was another broomstick lying on the floor near Dumbledore's.

"Who else is here?" he demanded. Maybe that person could fight him instead; maybe that person could kill him.

"A question I might ask of you. Or are you acting alone?"

Malfoy's eyes snapped to the Professor. "No," he tried to steady his voice. "I've got backup. There are Death Eaters in your school tonight."

"Well, well," the Headmaster said, almost approvingly, "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in did you?"

"Yeah," Draco said, panting from his run up the stairs. "Right under your nose and you never realized!"

"Ingenious," Dumbledore replied, shocking Draco, "Yet… Forgive me, where are they now? You seem unsupported."

Where were they? Had they deserted him? "They met some of your guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long… I came on a head. I- I've got a job to do." His stomach rolled at the thought of that job.

"Well, then, you must get on with it and do it, my dear boy."

He just stared at Dumbledore, trying to rally his nerves. Even holding out his wand seamed to take immense strength. I am going to kill someone, he told himself. His mind and body rebelled against the every thought. The Headmaster smiled up at him.

"Draco, Draco, you're not a killer."

"How do you know?" he snapped, the blushed realizing how childish those words were. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he tried to convince himself of his words. "You don't know what I've done."

"Oh yes, I do," the Professor replied calmly, "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley." He winced inwardly. Neither of those had been intentional. "You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts… So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it."

"It has been in it!" Malfoy spat, squashing all the voice in his head that told him he was lying. "I've been working on it all year, and tonight-" he jump hearing someone yell somewhere in castle. Tonight people are dieing.

He heard Dumbledore speaking to him conversationally about how he'd managed to get the Death Eaters in and was he ready to kill him yet. Was the man suicidal or something? Why didn't he just get away? Why didn't he try to get his wand back and just kill the impudent boy who was threatening him? Draco just stared at him.

"I see," the Headmaster said softly. "You're afraid to act until they join you."

"I'm not afraid! It's you who should be scared!"

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe… So tell me, while we wait for your friends… how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

He told Dumbledore who he'd managed to get them in but his mind was still on what Dumbledore said. "Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe." I am innocent, he realized, despite that I always thought I was so grown up.

Strangely the man seemed to be genuinely interested in how he'd done it all. But Dumbledore's continued faith in Snape in spite of what he said enraged him. What was this man thinking?

"Yeah I got the idea for them." He said, referring to Dumbledore's Army and their enchanted coins, one of many ideas he'd stolen. "I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing poisons."

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," said Dumbledore.

A harsh laughing found its way out from his sick stomach. "You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"

"Yes I do." Malfoy noticed for the first time that the headmaster seemed to be struggling to stay upright. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minuets now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless then you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…"

Draco's mouth contorted as he tried not to throw up. Dumbledore started asking him about what had happened that night and, shaking, he responded. He told Dumbledore about the dead body he'd stepped over. And then Dumbledore amazed yet again.

"So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options! I'm standing here with a wand- I'm about to kill you-"

"My dear boy, let us have no pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" he yelled, going white. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," the Headmaster said. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you."

Draco winced at that.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, incase he used Legilimency against you. But now at last we can speak plainly to each other… No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived… I can help you, Draco."

His hands were shaking so bad he almost dropped the wand. "No, you can't. Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead. Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely then you can possibly imagine. What is more I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her. Nobody would be surprised that had died in your attempt to kill me- forgive me but Lord Voldemort expects it."

Yes he does, Draco thought. Doesn't everyone?

"Nor would the Death Eaters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother- it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban… When the time comes, we can protect him to. Come over the right side, Draco… you are not a killer."

Draco stared at him. You'd help my father? Even after all he's done? Then he recalled himself. "But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly, trying to think. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power…. I'm the one with the wand…. You're at my mercy…."

"No, Draco. It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."

Draco began to lower his hand, began to accept the Headmaster's offer, when four Death Eaters barged into the room. Their laughter rang in his head as he realized, his chance was gone forever now. He couldn't go back now.

They were taunting the old man, telling him how great they were. They were telling him he was going to die. And he was still being polite.

One of the Death Eaters, Fenrir, turned to Draco. "Do it." He told him.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" Dumbledore asked.

"That's right. Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No I cannot say that I am."

The werewolf grinned and licked the blood off his lips. "But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore."

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual…. You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right. Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little. And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…"

"I didn't." the pale boy whispered. "I didn't know he was going to come-"

He just stood there, frozen, numb, listening to the people around him. Listening to them telling him to kill. Terror ate him stomach and tore his will to shreds.

He just stood there, his hands shaking too hard to point the wand as they yelled at him. Then Snape swept in.

"We've got a problem, Snape." One of the Death Eater's said. "The boy doesn't seem able-"

"Severus..." Dumbledore whispered. Draco looked at him. It was the first time he had ever heard the Headmaster plead. "Severus… please…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed in directly at Dumbledore.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Draco stared at the body as it flew over the wall, falling, crashing down, gone… taking with it the last of his hope that he could ever get out of this mess. Snape grabbed him and dragged him away. All he could think about was that body falling.

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He knelt in the forest, panting where Snape had left him. He hadn't done it. He was a G-d damn coward. 'Come over to the right side, Draco, you're not a killer.' What do you know old man? It was always so easy for you, wasn't it? Because you knew you were right. He stared up at the thousand stars grinning back at him and cursed them.

He cursed the world for creating him, his mother for existing, his father for forcing this on him, and himself for being this weak. He cursed the G-d he hated, the G-d he denied, the G-d he scorned, the G-d he couldn't, wouldn't worship. Laughing he damned the world forever and was forever damned.

He looked down at the wand in his hand. Convulsively he turned it on himself. It would be so easy. Just a quick spell, more a thought then anything else. It would all be over. He laughed harder, scarcely able to breathe, tears rolling down his face. His stomach began to churn.

What if it hurt? He screamed at his doubts and fears, trying to scare them away. He knelt in the clearing hold the wand, trying to kill his indecision. I am Draco Malfoy, he reminded himself; I can do whatever I want. "I am Draco Malfoy."

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AN: And… does he do it? Does he not do it? The answer is… Wait for the next book you impatient people! Hope you liked it. Please please please review.