A/N: well, here's chapter 2. it's a bit long and im sorry, but read and review please.

Disclaimer: Draco is not mine, Snape is not mine, Bella is not mine, Cissa is not mine, and the Dark Lord is not mine. They all belong to the wonderful mind of Jo Rowling, bless her.

Snape and Draco ran down a grassy hill and onto a deserted street.

"I thought we were supposed to go meet the Dark Lord," Draco said.

"This is where I live," Snape explained, "We are to wait here for his instructions. Rather his instructions through Wormtail," he added sourly.

Draco nodded and glanced at the street sign. Spinner's End. It sounded vaguely familiar. But from where, Draco didn't know. Anyway, this run-down place was where Snape lived? Among common, nasty Mudbloods? Draco would've expected him to live in a nicer place. Draco was shaken out of his thoughts by Snape.

"Get in here," he ordered, opening the door to a house.

Draco entered the dark house and looked around.

"Can't we have some light in here?" He complained, reaching for his wand.

"No," Snape said sharply, "Your mother and aunt should be here soon, as we're all going to meet the Dark Lord. And this time tomorrow, your father will be out of Azkaban," he added.

Draco sighed and nodded. The two groped their way to a sitting room and sat down. Snape lit a small lamp and turned it down almost all the way.

"I told Bellatrix and Narcissa to Apparate to my basement at a quarter after," Snape said, consulting a large, oddly-shaped pocket watch, "So they should be here soon," he added.

Draco nodded and glanced out the window. A moment later he spoke.

"The name Spinner's End sounds familiar," he said slowly, "I don't know how. Or where, or anything. Do you know?"

"I don't know if I am the right person to tell you, Draco," Snape said, "but I'll tell you anyway. You used to live here."

"I did? When?" He asked.

"16 years ago, as you know," Snape began, "the Dark Lord was at his full power. He was telling the Death Eaters that if they had children, they were to be given to him the day the child turned 16. Your mother became pregnant with you just after the Dark Lord decreed that. She refused to give you to him. Your father, Lucius, tried to persuade her to give you to the Dark Lord. When you were 2 years old, your parents finally came to an agreement. You would become a Death Eater when you turned 16. Last summer, on your birthday, Lucius took you to the Dark Lord. He gave you the Dark Mark and you became a Death Eater. You remember that day, I daresay?"

"Yes," Draco said.

That day, almost a year ago, came to his mind. He remembered it as though it were yesterday.

--Flashback--

"Draco."

Lucius's voice came through Draco's blanket of sleep.

"What" he mumbled, "I'm asleep."

"Get up, NOW!" Lucius snapped.

He yanked the covers off of Draco's bed and pulled him up.

"Get into plain, black robes and meet me downstairs in 30 minutes," he ordered.

He left and Draco, grumbling, got out of bed. He flicked his wand at his tousled hair and it immediately became its regular soft, sleek white-blond. Then he put on his robes and went downstairs. He sat down at the table and reached for the toast, which was in front of his father. He felt the sting of a slap on his hand.

"No food," Lucius said.

"Fine," Draco said defiantly.

"Don't you dare speak to me with that sort of tone."

Lucius's words bit into him, but he was silent.

10 minutes later, they had Apparated to the Dark Lord. They were not the only ones there. Draco couldn't see who was behind the masks, but he knew that the others his father had mentioned must be there. Avery. Nott. Crabbe. Goyle. Rodolphus. Rabastan. Jugson. Dolohov. Macnair. Rookwood. Mulciber. His aunt, Bellatrix. Draco's heart pounded as his father stepped into his spot of the circle. He was left in the middle. Alone, with Dark Lord. He knelt quickly before the Dark Lord and bowed his head.

"Do you," the Dark Lord began, "Draco Lucifer Malfoy, promise to be loyal to me?"

"I, Draco Lucifer Malfoy, do promise to be loyal to you, the Dark Lord," he replied.

"Do you promise to give me everything you own and become a loyal Death Eater?"

"I, Draco Lucifer Malfoy, agree to become a loyal Death Eater. Everything of mine is yours to dispose of. My wand, my body and blood, my soul. It is all yours to do with what you wish," he said.

"Good," the Dark Lord said, "Pull the left sleeve of your robe up."

Heart pounding, he did as he was told. The Dark Lord pulled his wand from his robes. He jabbed the tip of it on Draco's forearm. A green skull and serpent emerged from the tip. It swirled around Draco's arm and plunged into his forearm. And, just under the skull, were the letters D.L.M. and a tiny dragon. The letters were his initials, and the dragon was his sign. For a few moments, his arm burned. But the Dark Lord jabbed the Mark with his wand and the pain subsided.

"Draco Lucifer Malfoy," he said, "You are now a Death Eater. Rise."

And Draco stood. This was what he longed for for years. Wasn't this the thing he had yearned for? Dreamed of? Wasn't this his lifelong dream? It was. But, why was Draco feeling as though he had made the wrong decision?

--End Flashback--

"I remember it well, sir," Draco said, "But why does that matter?"

"Have you ever seen your father's Mark?" Snape asked.

"No, sir," he replied, suddenly slightly scared.

"Here," Snape said impatiently.

He pulled his left sleeve up and showed his Mark to Draco.

"What?" He asked, slightly confused.

"Look closely," the potions master said, "yours has your initials and sign on it. Mine does not."

"So?" Draco said, still confused.

"SO, you are obviously one of the 'promised.' One of the children that was promised to the Dark Lord."

"Ahhhh," Draco said, suddenly realizing what it meant, "That means…that the Dark Lord was always able to dispose of me."

"Yes," Snape said, "That's why you had to be hidden when Lucius did something that the Dark Lord disapproved of. That's why this place sounds familiar to you."

"Oh," Draco said.

Snape nodded. They were silent for a long time. Then, suddenly, the door was flung open. Two women entered: Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Draco's aunt and mum, respectively.

"Hello, Mother," he said stiffly.

"Well," Bellatrix hissed before her sister could answer him, "have you done it? Is Dumbledore…dead?"

"Yes," Snape cut in, "Although, Draco could not bring himself to kill him. I had to do it instead."

They three adults turned towards him.

"Sorry."

The word hung in the air. Never before had Draco uttered the word 'sorry.' He was never sorry for his actions, no matter what the consequences would be. He had learned from his father, Lucius, that apologizing was a form of weakness. Yet, here he was, apologizing to Snape, Bellatrix, and Narcissa. Was he growing weaker? Or was he defying his father? Or…neither? Snape frowned slightly at him, as his mother and aunt exchanged dark looks.

"Right," Snape said, breaking the silence, "Can I offer either of you wine, ladies?"

"Well," Narcissa said, "if you insist."

"Of course," Bella added.

"Good."

Snape turned to the door and flicked his wand at it. It flew open to reveal Wormtail, crouched as though he were listening at the door.

"How many times must I tell you to stop this?" He asked coldly, his lip curling, "Go get us some of the wine, Wormtail."

Scowling deeply, Wormtail turned and hurried away. A few minutes later, he came back holding 3 goblets and a bottle of wine. Snape took everything and began pouring it. He handed one cup to Bella and the other to Narcissa. He kept his own. He raised his goblet and murmured a toast.

"To the Dark Lord."

"The Dark Lord," Bella and Narcissa echoed.

The three took sips of their wine. Bella closed her eyes briefly and drank some more. Her sister, however, put her goblet down with a sour expression. Snape set his down as well, his face expressionless and blank, as usual.

"When are we leaving?" Draco asked.

"You do know how the Dark Lord calls us to him, do you not, boy?" Bella asked.

"Of course, I do," he replied indignantly.

"There you are then," she said calmly.

"Draco," Snape began, "I must warn you: the Dark Lord will want to know immediately if you were able to kill Dumbledore. It would be best if you just tell him the truth. You are not very good at closing your mind, as of yet, and he will know if you lie to him."

"Fine," he replied, bitterly.

"Respect, Draco," the older man said, "Do you know the meaning of that word?"

Draco ignored the question and pulled his wand at it. He flicked it and another goblet appeared. He reached for the wine, but Bellatrix pulled it away from him.

"You have not met the age of which you can drink, Draco," she said, giving him a contemptuous look.

"Fine," Draco said again, sourly.

Suddenly his arm began to burn. It hurt like hell. More than being hit with the Cruciartus Curse during his fourth year. It was pain beyond belief. Draco rose to his feet, as did Snape, Bellatrix, and Narcissa. Draco hurried to Snape's side for assistance in Disapparating.

"We will see you there," Bellatrix told Snape. And with that said, she and Narcissa Disapparated. Snape gripped Draco's arm and they Disapparated as well.

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From behind his mask, Draco watched his fellow Death Eaters arrive. The Dark Lord, meanwhile, sat in a chair in the middle of the circle. Once they were all assembled, he stood up.

"Well, my followers," he began, "He is dead. My arch-nemesis, Dumbledore is finally dead." The Dark Lord stopped in front of Draco. "And you killed him, did you not?" He said.

"Erm….yes, I did," Draco said, lying through his teeth. The Dark Lord stared at him before continuing his walking and talking.

"Fifteen years ago, when I attempted to kill Harry Potter, you all left me. Not even Lucius tried to find me," the Dark Lord continued, "but tonight, he thinks he will be honored. He believes that he will be honored above anyone else, for bringing up the boy that he believes killed Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy, step forward."

Draco stepped into the circle.

"Yes, my lord?" He asked, bowing at the waist.

"When I asked you if you killed Dumbledore, you said yes," the Dark Lord, walking towards him, "but you didn't kill him. You acted like the coward that you are inside. Snape had to kill him, instead of you. Why?" He demanded.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Draco replied, his heart beating twice its normal rate.

"Don't lie to me, boy!" The Dark Lord shouted as he raised his wand.

He brought it down at a sharp angle and Draco felt a white-hot thing whip his face. He flew backwards and landed at the other end of the circle in a heap.

"Stand up, boy," the Dark Lord said coldly, walking towards Draco. He scrambled to his feet.

"Why did you lie to me when I asked you if you killed Dumbledore?"

Draco remained silent. And then the Cruciartus Curse hit him. He writhed and screamed in pain as the Death Eaters watched in silence. From behind her mask, Narcissa felt anger shoot through her. What right did this man have to torture her son like that? A moment later the curse was lifted. Draco lay in a heap, his tears and sweat mixing on his face. The Dark Lord advanced on him.

"You will be given a new assignment," he began, "Succeed and you will be welcomed back. Fail…" he let his voice trail away delicately. "You father will be released from Azkaban tomorrow," he continued, "He will watch you and make sure that you perform the task I set you."

Draco nodded and, with great effort, stood up. He stepped back into his spot in the circle, silently.

A/N: again, please review!