This is my first every attempt to write a fanfic longer than a one shot, So be nice.
Thank you to my beta Danielle :3
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: To avoid receiving The Dark Mark, Draco Malfoy joins The Order Of The Phoenix. Set during the summer before their 6th year. Completely disregards HBP.
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down on your face
And I...
Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down on your face
And I...
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
He was pathetic. He was a disgrace to his family name. He was weak. He was a bloody fucking coward.
Those were some of the many thoughts running through Draco Malfoy's mind as he paced the small bedroom he'd been condemned to, as though he was some fucking muggle prisoner, ever since Snape had practically shoved him through front door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
The room looked as though nobody has stepped a merefoot inside for numerous years. There was dust covering almost every surface. The dirt on the window near the bed rendered the sunlight impossible to shine through. The bed itself was far too small for Draco's 6'3 figure. The blankets had a rather odd scent to them that no amount of scourgifying seemed to be able to remove, and although the walls seem to have once been white, they had faded over the years into an ugly, yellowish color that resembled old parchment.
He could faintly make out snippets of the heated discussion going on downstairs, and if Draco had to guess, he would say the discussion was definitely based around him.
"He's a bloody Death Eater! I can't believe you're actually letting him stay here!" came Potter's angry voice from somewhere down stairs.
"Harry, if you were to go upstairs right now and look at his forearm, there would be absolutely no trace of a Dark Mark. That is precisely why he is here! To avoid becoming a Death Eater." argued the steady voice that Draco was sure belonged to Remus Lupin.
"I don't trust this. It's a plan, I know it is! He's probably a spy, sent by Voldemort himself!"Weasley spat, his voice just as spiteful, if not even harsher than Potter's before him.
"Oh, shut up, Ronald!" replied a stern voice that he recognised as Granger's, "He took Veritaserum, You know very well he is most certainly not a spy."
He couldn't help but be a bit surprised by the fact that Granger, of all people, were defending him. Mind, knowing her, she was probably looking at him as her next fucking charity case. Congratulations, Draco Malfoy. You've turned in to the next SPEW, or whatever the hell that sodding House Elf appreciation society she had began back in fourth year was.
But he wasn't having any of it. He was a Malfoy, for crying out loud! Draco was fully content -well, as content as one could be in the given situation- to stay upstairs in this hell hole for as long as he needed to; better yet, he knew he could do it without so much as speaking a single word to any of the fools who were still arguing amongst themselves downstairs over his arrival.
Draco let out a sigh before laying back on the lumpy, dirty bed. He rested his head against the headboard, sighing as his pale blond hair fell into his eyes.
Upon closing his eyes, his brain assaulted him with the memory of exactly what had caused Snape to drag him here in the first place.
He was in the library of Malfoy Manor, perched somewhat comfortably on the velvet, emerald green arm chair. He was reading a book titled '120 Unique Uses For Dragons Blood, when his mother had slowly crept into the room.
"Draco." She'd said timidly, her voice slightly shaking. "The.. The Dark Lord wishes to see you. He is waiting for you. In the drawing room."
Draco raised from his chair instantly, sensing this was an important matter. With a nod to his mother, he began his trek up the staircase for what felt like forever, until he eventually reached the drawing room. Willing himself to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, he faced the scene in front of him.
The Dark Lord's voice rang out throughout the room as though he was speaking through a megaphone. His high pitched voice sent shivers up Draco's spine as he hissed his words in a snake-like manner.
"Ah, Draco. Your father and I have just been discussing when would be the best time for you to get The Mark." Voldemort had said, casting a menacing look at Draco's father. "I'm sure I can assume you're ready to become a faithful servant to the greatest wizard of all time?"
Draco gulped as his hands began to shake slightly.
"Y-Y-Yes, My Lord." He'd stammered out, looking anywhere but Voldemort's blood red eyes.
Voldemort smiled a spine tingling, sinister little smile as he clasped his long, slender fingers together. ""I am glad you have not refused me. That could have been regarded as such a waste..." Draco had shuddered once more, trying not to consider the outcome should he have refused the Mark. Forcing himself to stare at the floor, Draco felt the hairs on his neck stand up as the Dark Lord spoke once again."Then it is settled, You will be Marked tomorrow." He said before making a gesture with his hand, signaling that Draco was free to go.
Draco had fled the room in a hurry. He was panting and his heart felt as though it was trying to beat out of his chest. He was sweating, doubled over in front of his bedroom door, trying so desperately to get a hold of himself.
He didn't want the Dark Mark brandished into his skin, plain and simple.
He didn't want to be a Death Eater. He didn't want to join those who brutally murdered, raped and tortured every single day of their fucking lives. For fun. Now, that was DEFINITELY not to say he wanted to run off and fight the bad guys with bloody Saint Potter. Draco was just...so, so confused.
As he turned the door knob to his bedroom, he felt a rough hand grab onto his shoulder and he instantly turned around to see the face of his godfather, Severus Snape staring back at him with a rare look of mingled fear and concern in his eyes.
"Draco, I'd like to speak with you privately for a moment, if you please" He'd said, his face quickly rearranging itself into the perfect mask of impassiveness.
Draco nodded slowly, opening the door to his bedroom and stepping in as quickly as he could manage with Snape following hastily after him in his usual bat-like fashion.
After that, Snape had then proceeded to place a silencing charm on the room –whilst forone awful split second, Draco had wildly assumed Snape was about to attempt to molest him- yet instead, Snape proceeded to tell Draco something he hadn't thought he would hear in a million years.
Snape had told Draco that he was a spy for The Order Of The Phoenix. He told Draco in a rush how he had to take him to headquarters that night if he wanted any chance whatsoever to avoid getting the Dark Mark. When Draco had (rather badly) tried to deny the fact that he didn't want the Mark, Snape reminded him that he was an expert at Legilimency and it was, of course, pointless to lie to him.
After that, without a single frantic goodbye to his parents, Draco had left the Manor he had once called home with Snape and had apparated to 12 Grimmauld place. After much explanation, an entire vial of Veritaserum, and many "if-looks-could-kill" moments between Draco and Scar Head Potter, Draco had ended up where he was now.
He couldn't help but wonder with mingled concern and anguish where his parents thought he might be. He knew his poor mother was probably worried sick, although he also had a feeling that, eventually, Snape would tell her where Draco really was. At least then she would finally be able to breath again.
With his last thoughts lingering on how ashamed his father would be had he any idea where his only heir was right now, Draco drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Twenty minutes later, Draco was torn from his half-unconscious state by the sound of someone knocking lightly on his door.
Draco slid off the bed, not bothering to adjust his unkempt appearance. Uponopening the door, he was shocked to find Hermione Granger's small frame on the other side. He raised a pale eyebrow at the girl.
"Can I help you, Granger?" He asked snidely.
Hermione nodded, Looking up at the tall wizard in front of her. He was so thin, much thinner since she'd seen him last. On the Hogwarts express when they left school for the summer merely months ago, he had at least seemed well fed."Dinner is ready", she explained in an even tone, obviously disregarding his rudeness. "Are you going to come down and eat with us?"
Draco scoffed. "Oh yes, definitely. Save me the seat between Potty and the Weasel" He said, sarcasm practically dripping off of him with every word.
Hermione simply sighed. "Alright then. I supposed I'll save you a plate anyway and you can have a house elf bring it to you later". Without another word or glance in his direction, She hurried back down the hall and down the stairs into the kitchen.
Draco closed his door and then went back to his original spot on the bed as the events of the evening had engulfed him in exhaustion, he instantly drifted off into what was sure to be one long, nightmare filled sleep.
Well, there you have it. My first chapter. I know it kind of sucked, and it was a little draggy but I promise it'll get better.