Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Okay, how do I start these types of things? Ah, okay here it goes. Developing the characters is always a main part.

"There were three girls that played major roles in this story," I started. I was already picturing them all perfectly clear in my mind. The way they looked, the way they acted, the way they talked. "The girl that was meant for me, my long time lover, and the girl who I was banned from even thinking about let alone being with.

"You see to understand this story fully you would have to know one major thing about me, and my world. During these times people were extremely prejudiced. Your blood status mattered more than what you looked like, or acted like.

"There were people who cared, people who didn't, and people who tried their best to ignore it and not run into further conflicts with things down the road. My family and I, we cared, a lot and this caused huge problems."

I watched as Scorpius looks at me seriously. Confused and awaiting me to go into more detail.

Eventually I drifted. Drifted to a world where I was allowed to get lost. Lost in the thoughts and daydreams of my years past when everything hit me, once again.

I was sitting in the study of my parents house. It was Christmas Break. Usually, I spent my time with the house elves or back at Hogwarts, but this year my parents had urged me to come home.

"It's only for the best, darling," my mother had written in one of her letters a few weeks back. I pictured her smiling and looking down at the grounds below her balcony window trying to hide the shame, because she knew it wasn't for the best, but all she could do was smile and hope I didn't notice her mistake or catch on. She had to put on a brave face for me. Back then I hadn't really noticed it, but as the years came and I thought more and more on the past I picked up a few minor details that meant a lot more than what the seemed to at the moment, much like this one.

I ultimately decided I would pay them a visit for Christmas. I remembered walking into the manor for the first time since summer. Nothing felt right. The air felt high and cloudy, like I wasn't aloud to breath and everything was being sucked out of me. The feeling was strange and foreign.

The scenery looked and felt dark. Like no one was living here and instead I had the wrong household, but as soon as I saw the shiny white blond hair of my mother creep down the staircase I knew I was in the right place.

She waltzed up to me carefully. Her blue eyes beheld heavy bags beneath them and didn't shine with love like they normally did. This wasn't my mother. This woman sure looked like her, but she wasn't my mother. She didn't have the friendly, motherly aura to herself. She was different. Cold. Lonely. Far away, and I felt as if I couldn't reach her. As if this was my mother's body but her soul and personality was never coming back. The things that made her, her.

"Draco, darling," she forced a smile as she pulled me into a cold and empty embrace. I shuddered, not wanting to touch this person, whoever this was.

Just over her shoulder I spotted my father at the top of the stairs looking around. He was trying his hardest not to look at me, not to make any direct eye contact. Something was up here.

And now here I sat in the study, waiting. Awaiting whatever they had called me here for. Whatever news they had for me.

Suddenly, the door creaked and in walked a short man. He looked grumpy. His eyes gave off a beady, mouse like, feeling. He sort of scared me.

I had never seen this person before. What was be doing in my house? Surely he wasn't a family friend, I had never seen nor met him before.

"Come, come," he whispered hoarsely. I could barely make out his voice. It was quite and hesitant, like he knew what was happening and trying to think up a way to get me away from her and this awful feeling, but then again it was also laced with something that told me he couldn't wait to bring me to the place I was expected at.

I walked out of the study and into the dark luring hallways that led to many different rooms and chambers of my home. If I was to turn around and go to the end of the hall, I would end up in front of my bedroom door.

But instead the man took me forward. Away from the place I was wishing we were heading to.

He made his way to the middle of the hallway and turned to go down the Grand Stair Case and to the main floor occupying things I couldn't even begin to imagine.

We were at the bottom of the stairs and taking a turn to our left and down another hallway that I knew lead to my parents beloved Ball Room.

"Wormtail," I heard a loud voice grumble. "Would you hurry up, now?" I scrunched my eyebrows together and started rummaging through all the voices I could remember that were stored in my brain somewhere. I had never heard this voice before. Who was it, and why were these strangers in my house?

"Coming my lord," Wormtail responded picking up his pace to a quick and steady fast walk. He looked up at me and begged me to follow along faster with his eyes.

I watched as Wormtail grasped the silver door knob with a snake embellished on it and turned to me. Giving me a hesitant look, he slowly opened the door stepping aside to let me enter first.

"Ah, there you are my boy," I heard the same voice whisper. Looking up I was met with at least twenty other people all seated across a long black business like table.

The head of the table held someone with great superior. Someone my father always told me to respect with great enthusiasm. Lord Voldemort himself.

Seated right at the table in the Ball Room of my house. I looked up curiously. Not knowing what to do.

My parents were seated next to one another. From where I was standing I had a perfect view of the pair.

Their hands were clasped together firmly, under the table. My mother's hair was pulled back into a neat French twist. Making her look organized and put together. Although, I could tell she wasn't. Her hand that my father was grasping was shaking. Her skin was sickly pale. She had bags under her eyelids, and her eyes held a look of pity. A look that told me to forgive her for what may happen. What she had no control over. What I did not know of, yet.

My father was sitting next to her and much more put together. I envied him. How he could just sit there in the presence of this Lord and not look scared or too deeply honored. He kept glancing between my mother and I. Probably trying to urge us to keep ourselves together in order to honor our family name. I watched as his hand tightened on my mothers. Grasping it, trying to stop the shaking she was producing. He looked rather intent at his place at the table. He was a few seats away from the Dark Lord, himself. Which was a great honor to him.

In between my mother and the family sitting next to her, The Parkinsons, was an empty seat. I hated the thought that that seat was mine. Where I was bound to be asked to sit in, eventually.

After I looked at Mr. Parkinson who was next to the empty seat, my eyes traveled to his daughter. Pansy.

How could she be here? Had she known of this all along and hadn't bothered to tell me? We were friends for Merlin's sake, well sort of. Only on days that I can actually put up with her presence. When I needed a favor or information.

She smiled at me lightly as she saw my eyes gaze at her intently. I just scowled and looked away. This was sickening me. Were they asking me to join their little club?

"My dear boy," Voldemort spoke slowly. In a voice that was too calm for my situation at the moment and caused me to jump unexpectedly. "There is no need for introductions. I am sure you are aware of who I am, am I right?"

I looked over to my family and watched as my mother bowed her head in shame. Not wanting to make any eye contact with me. My father just stared straight at me, urging me to answer. His silver eyes pierced my soul. It felt like he was looking in on me and knew the disdain I was feeling towards every person in the room at the moment.

"Yes," I croaked out. Surprising everyone in the room as my voice entered the air for the first time since I entered this chamber of doom.

"Well, then, Draco please take a seat," he smiled and directed his gaze towards the seat next to my mother and Mr. Parkinson.

I looked at the seat then back at The Dark Lord. Was he kidding? Was I just supposed to sit down and willingly accept the fact that I was now apart of their little clan? What were they thinking.

But as I saw my mother and father look at me with pleading expressions I journeyed over to the lonely chair. I knew well enough that if I were to refuse it would not only cause great disappointment in my family but also great pain, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I plopped myself on the chair. Not too close to either of the two people next to me. I swiftly rejected the pale hand that lay opened on the table waiting for me to clasp it.

I turned my attention to the front of the table, then looked around to see who else was present at this wonderful meeting.

Seeing a few people I knew and mainly strangers, I occupied myself with something else. Staring at my own hands that lay sprawled in my welcoming lap.

By now, my mother had closed her palm and placed it on her own lap as well. Everyone was looking at the front of the room, the fireplace. I guess we were expecting more guests then. Before I knew it, all my fellow class mates were sitting present at the table along with me. Many of them held expressions of great honor and superior which sickened me. How could they think of this as an honor? This was terrible. I never wanted this. Even when I was younger. I never wanted to be apart of this group, although I never wanted to be against them either. I just wanted to be left alone. Be my own group. The people who didn't give a fuck.

I looked at the family sitting across from me, The Greengrass'. The younger daughters, Daphne and Astoria weren't there. I guess they weren't forced to become part of these maniacs. Lucky them, but then again they were girls and Daphne was far too young. She was only a fourth year.

"Well, now that everyone is here, we can begin," Lord Voldemort stood up and watched as every pair of eyes followed his moves.

He was pacing behind the people watching over them. Awaiting for any of the younger ones to rebel and try to get away. I would gladly be the first and I probably would be if I stayed her any longer. "Those who don't already have one will be given their Dark Mark tonight."

At this exact moment I felt a tingle fly up my left forearm as if right on queue. I snatched my right arm on top of it. Trying to calm the feeling and nervousness I was starting to feel.

All the other younger wizards and few witches exchanged glances. This was the moment they were dreading. Being branded with the tattoo for life. No way to stop. Unless you were keen on the topic and circumstances of being tortured and embarrassing your own family.

"Could all my young sorcerers stand up please," Voldemort taunted walking behind my family at this particular moment in his speech.

At once at the younger witches and wizards stood, besides myself. I sat there patiently. Not wanting to get up and face myself with the mystery and future I was bound to receive.

I watched as my mother's and father's eyes turned to me and widened in horror as they watched me sitting intently in the big black chair. Not caring at all for anyone or anything around me at the moment. They were giving my looks of disgrace.

"Well, well, we have our first rebel. Draco, I had a feeling it would be you. What's wrong my boy?" Voldemort hissed in my ear. Sending a chill down my spine, but I did not falter or turn away. I held my ground.

Scanning my eyes through the people around me I saw Blaise Zabini staring at me as if I was insane. He was my best mate. He knew me more than anyone did. His eyes pleaded with me to stand up, but even that wouldn't work. He didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't want this. It wasn't right, not at all.

Leaning back a bit, I saw a few seats down Pansy Parkinson look quizzically at me. Her dark black hair was flowing in nice waves today and her brown eyes that were almost always cold and filled with hatred were outlined in perfect eyeliner making them pop drastically. I had to admit, she looked gorgeous. I lost the feelings of cruelty I was feeling towards her minutes before hand.

She widened her eyes and looked a bit behind me at something worthy of all her attention.. I looked away not really caring, back to Blaise.

Blaise had the same facial expression going as well, and before I knew it, before I heard the dreading words, I felt it. The searing pain of white hot knifes boring into my own skin.

"Crucio."

The feeling was endless and made me feel useless. I couldn't do anything, neither could anybody watching me. My eyes rolled back inside my head having a hard time adjusting and concentrating on certain things. All the blurs blended together making one odd shade of gray.

I collapsed to the ground and my face turned towards my left. I saw her again. Her angelic face and beautiful eyes screaming pity right at me.

She was turned towards me and trying to decide whether to crouch down to my level in front of Lord Voldemort where she would most likely end up on the ground as well, or just stay put.

In the end, she stayed, but I didn't mind. Every single person in this room was a coward, even myself, and I was used to it. After all, we weren't Gryffindors, were we? Not everyone could be born brave and noble.

The pain was over. Everything was back to normal, but my body tingled with an aftershock of pain.

Carefully, The Dark Lord bent down to my level on the ground. With a gigantic sneer on his face he hissed the final words I heard before I blacked out. "You will do as I say."

I'm sorry this took awhile and it jumps right into a dark part, but it has to get dark before it can light! (:

Please Read and Review! It means a lot.

-Laughter is contagious