For my friend on Pottermore! Sorry it took so long! - Dre (BladeWolfsbane27699)

I may re-update at a later date with a better edited story!

Hissing in the Manor

Lucius Malfoy tightly gripped his wand. His knuckles were white on his already pale skin.

Draco flinched when his father first waved his wand at him, but he was expecting this sort of reaction and raised his chin in defiance. "You've always done this, as a child you never listened to me. What about what I want? Did you ever think to ask me that?"

"No son of mine likes some filthy halfblood."

Their argument had raised volumes and the house elves had scampered from the hallways in the manor.

"No father, you're wrong!" Draco's voice was low and almost inaudible as he growled. His chest was heaving. Blue eyes met green during the last few moment of their dispute.

Lowering his voice to match that of his sons, Lucius Malfoy hissed, "You're not my son."

The younger man straightened his spine and squared his shoulders at the elder's repute. Then he whispered, however the malice in his voice never wavered, "I'll just see myself out."

No more words were spoken; no more were the two men a father and a son.


Narcissa heard the entire exchange through the door her husband and son had stood outside of. Her attention was directed to the conversation when she heard Draco ask Lucius to discuss a matter of importance to him.


"Father!" Draco had just turned the corner in one of the hallways in Malfoy Manor. Across the hall, his father was leaving his study. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Make it quick, boy." He casually looked up from the papers he was reading to glance at his son.

Wiping his hands on his pants-suit, Draco drew in an audible breath. He would have spoken then, but he felt his father's large, right hand impact with the left side of his face. Looking up, he was met with the menacing glare of his father.

"Quit fidgeting! I can't have you acting like this in front of the Dark Lord. Spit it out now, boy." Growling, his hand returned to his side. However the papers in his left hand still displayed his obvious anger.

With his face now stinging, he felt a surge of confidence toward disrespecting his father's wishes. "I've been dating this girl at Hogwarts." Draco saw his father's demeanor calm down and his lips part as if to speak. Interrupting him, he said, "Let me finish."

Lucius closed his mouth and nodded to his son to finish speaking.

"However, she's not a Slytherin." Draco watched as his father's eyes narrowed on him. Although he didn't speak, his eyes beckoned Draco to explain. "Nor is she a Pureblood."

Draco stepped back, indicating to his father that he was finished speaking. He waited for what he was sure would be another slap, instead Lucius brandished his wand.


Narcissa stood on the opposite side of the door with her jaw slightly slack and her eyebrows knitted together. The confusion etched on her face was as readable as understanding a child's reading book. Her teeth grazed her lips as she bit them lightly and her eyes stared into nothing.

Draco was her son and she loved him despite the flaws those around her would see in him after this announcement. On the other end of the spectrum, Lucius was her husband and leaving him would mean leaving everything she knew behind.

She wrapped her shaking hand around the brass doorknob. Inhaling, she opened the door and saw her husband standing there watching the retreating form of her son.

She stood in the threshold glancing at both men. Her inner conflict was still weighing heavily on the forefront of her thoughts. Her feet seemed frozen. Taking one last glance at her son's back, she felt a sudden compulsion to follow him, after all, he was her son and she loved him no matter what.

Her feet hastily left their current spot on the ground and her mouth instinctively whispered Draco's name.

"Don't." A brash, heavy voice all but shouted. She stopped in her tracks and turned her head to her husband. Then his voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "He's made his decision."

Then her husband turned to walk in the opposite direction.

The sound of the front door closing resounded through the corridors. A lump seemingly found its way lodged into the middle of her throat. Tears found their way to the corner of her eyes.

Right now, despite the choice she makes, she is considered a traitor to someone in her family.


Draco's feet padded along the sidewalk leading away from the manor. He expected such a reaction from his father, even planned for it. But now that it was done, he was unsure of his future. He had his entire life planned out since before he can remember, now his future was just an empty void. A voice in his thoughts continued to nag him. 'What is he suppose to do now, he doesn't know anything else.'


"Where is your son, Lucius?" The hiss slithered past Voldemort's lips at Lucius' name.

"He was unable to be here, my Lord." His head bowed in respect. His hood shadowed over his eyes, an action the older Malfoy was appreciative of because the disappointment still showed in his eyes.

As if sensing the answer was one he wouldn't approve of, he turned away and said, "He was one week."


One week to change his mind. One week to forget his past decisions. One week to join the dark forces.

Two Death Eaters sat in the corner of the pub and silently waited for Draco Malfoy to appear. They knew he would appear today, it was a Saturday and the students would travel to Hogsmead. They knew Draco would visit here, he always did. And he always came alone. Always in the same spot – If he differed from tables too much, his seclusion from other Hogwart's students would be subjected to exposure. And he couldn't have that.

So they waited.


Draco was brought forward to the front of the room by two hooded figures. He wasn't tied up and he walked willingly.

Voldemort stalked slowly in front of the youngest Malfoy. Never one to ask too many questions, he simply pointed his wand at Draco and whispered "ligitimens.'

There were flashes of a girl smiling timidly at Draco in the Great Hall, sitting next to him in Transfiguration class, and Draco whispering in a girl's ear as he pressed himself close to her against a wall.

"Seems like Draco here has a girlfriend." The crowd of Death Eaters laughed. "Let's see why she is more important than your future with us."

He cast the spell again and re-entered Draco's mind.

Once more Voldemort saw various memories locked away, however, one particular memory stood out easily. Draco walked the streets with his hand held firmly in the girls'. Both had their faces painted and dressed similarly while passing kids of all ages wearing similar yet vastly different attire. There walked Draco in the Muggle world, celebrating a Muggle holiday, with a predominantly Muggle family.

For a few long seconds, Voldemort just stared at Draco. He gripped his wand by his side.

Draco had a difficult time keeping eye contact with the Dark Lord and once he looked away, he couldn't look back.

"I'll give you a choice, Draco," Voldemort slowly moved behind Draco and whispered over Draco's right shoulder into his ear. "If you do a favor for me, I'll do a favor for you."

Draco remained quiet as he tried to keep his breathing under control.

When Draco didn't speak, Voldemort continued, "I'll spare the girls' life for you if you take Dumbledore's for me."


Draco's feet carried himself up the stairs to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Death Eaters walked briskly ahead of him and he had to run to keep up.

Emotions raced quickly through his mind that he had an almost impossible time concentrating on the task at hand.

They quickly reached the top of the tower and Dumbledore stood there calmly – almost as if he was expecting them.

The air was chilly, the night sky was filled with clouds. The moisture in the air filled the atmosphere with an eerie feeling. Goosebumps ran up Draco's spine.

The familiar twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was non-existent. However, the all too familiar stare at the Death Eaters allowed Draco to see that he did indeed know why there were here – why Draco was here.

Draco stepped forward from the crowd with his wand pointed at the headmaster. The former tried to reason with the young boy and Draco revealed the Dark Mark brandished on his left forearm. Then he re-directed his wand toward his headmaster.

Everything was silent for a few long seconds. The air seemed to have stilled around them. The wand in Draco's hand wavered as his arm shook. He heard Bellatrix behind him coaxing him into incanting the killing curse. Other words may have been spoken; anything that transpired around him went unnoticed. Right now he was lost in his thoughts. Voldemort promised not to kill his girlfriend, all he had to do was whisper the two most powerful – deadly – words in the magical community and her life would be spared. But for how long? How long until the fight against Pureblood supremacy became too strong and her life would be thrown into the crossfire? Was it really worth ending Dumbledore's life if hers would end soon enough anyways? Then another thought occurred to him. Should he enable himself to cast the killing curse, how would she look at him? Would she be able to forgive him for killing someone else in return for her own life? Regardless of what happens, he would almost undoubtedly lose her forever. In which case, believing she was gone from his life, he was alone again and by himself, without motive, he wasn't able to end another man's life. And because of that, he began to lower his wand.

Draco felt a large, sturdy hand clasp itself over his right shoulder. Someone was moving him behind them. His eyes met with Professor Snapes'. Understanding was written in his dark, almost hallow, eyes – he knew the inner struggle Draco was battling. And he was directing him away from making what he had already determined would be a life altering mistake.

Professor Snape moved past him and the next few moments past by too quickly for Draco to comprehend. He remembers green. He remembers watching Professor Dumbledore being thrust back from his foothold on the ground and falling from the window of the Astronomy Tower. And he remembers being pulled back quickly from his spot and down the stairs in the tower as thunder and lightning cracked through the night.

He remembers the Dark Lord cackling in his mind as they rushed from the Hogwart's grounds. But most importantly, he remembers the whisper from Voldemort in his ear reminding him that he was not the one to fulfill his end of the deal.

No more does Draco know where his loyalties lie.