I got this idea from the deleted scene in TDH Part 2, where Draco is excited about Harry actually being alive. I feel like Draco could be such a good person if he tried, and this is him trying.
Disclaimer: I am not the writer of Harry Potter. *bows down to Queen Rowling*
The grey dawn was dark.
Draco should have liked that.
He was meant to like things that were dark, after all. He was meant to like the things the people he stood among despised. But he also was meant to be standing opposite them, as well. There were a lot of things he was meant to do, to be.
He had never wanted to be them.
But, what did it matter? What he thought didn't matter at all, not to his father. Not to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
He didn't want to be a Death Eater. He wouldn't. He should, but he couldn't.
But that did not matter at all.
Not at all to the person standing in the middle of a crumbled courtyard, the grey dawn almost as pale as his frighteningly white skin. He was meant to become a Death Eater - if he did not, his parents would disown him, You-Know-Who would murder him, he would never be accepted. He would be brave.
Sometimes he wondered if he would make a good Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had never wondered at all, but sometimes he figured that maybe he could be both. He had never acted upon it - not at all, not at all, but there was no better time than the present.
Though that was not totally true. There had definitely been better times than the present, what with his enemy dead and the people he was supposed to be with defiant. Much, much better times than there were now. But there was still no better time to be brave.
You-Know-Who smiled gleefully, his arms raised with his wand lifted carelessly in the air. Behind him, Harry Potter was busy not being alive anymore. Draco gazed at him, at his famous scar that used to fill him with bitterness. The Boy Who Lived and Died.
He was the bravest person he had ever met. He didn't want to make Harry proud - he didn't owe anything to him. He didn't have to make Harry proud. But he wanted to make himself proud, down to the smallest corners of himself that burned scarlet and gold. And he wanted to make his emerald and silver parts proud too.
And Voldemort asked for people to become Death Eaters. His parent's eyes bore into him, imploring, begging to come with them and be safe and dark.
Draco didn't want to be dark. He wanted to be emerald and scarlet. And part of him wanted to be yellow and blue, too. He didn't want darkness.
So he stepped forward, towards the colorless future he didn't want.
His mother's shoulders sagged with relief, and his father's hand on her side relaxed.
Draco walked forward, seeing the shaking heads of disgust as he moved closer to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They didn't know what he would do. They didn't know what he would say.
He stopped when he was a few feet away from him. You-Know-Who smiled, a disconcerting grin. "Welcome, Draco." He paused a moment. "It appears you are already prepared to join our group." Draco knew he was referencing the Dark Mark on his left arm, the mark that he didn't want.
"Yes," He replied curtly. "I suppose I was." His mother flinched at his tone. You-Know-Who chose to ignore it.
"Well, despite your previous failures, I'm sure you will be very valuable."
"I will be. But not for you."
His smile faded.
"I'm a Slytherin." The words caused You-Know-Who's smile to come back, though less gleeful than before.
"Yes, the best house. You shall be accepted well."
"No. I am a Slytherin. But just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I'm evil, that I have to be a Death Eater. Just because I'm a Malfoy does not mean I support you and everything you do."
Voldemort clenched his fists, but kept a calm expression on his face.
Malfoy continued. "Just because I am a Slytherin doesn't mean that I can't act like a Gryffindor too. So -" He took a small breath, "Voldemort, I defy you."
His mother's face was shocked, and she held onto his father as if she would keel over and die if he let go of her. His father's face was pale as a sheet.
Voldemort had his long fingers wrapped around his wand, but he was yet to raise it. "You what?"
Draco raised his eyes, looking deep into Voldemort's scarlet. "I defy you. I will never be on your side, not ever again. I stand with the people who are good, I stand with Hogwarts. And I am not scared."
His mother hid her face, and looked as if she were weeping into her husband's shoulder. His father - no, Lucius, was expressionless.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, the scarlet in his eyes flaring and burning with menace. He raised his wand.
Draco was not scared.
