"Draco!"Lucius called his son into the library of Malfoy manor, where he usually called him when he something of great importance to discuss.

So naturally, Draco was nervous.

It was already winter break, and it was dark and overcast outside.

"Father." Draco addressed his father formally, and politely.

"Have a seat, son." Lucius gestured to the sofa across from him.

Draco sat down.

Lucius sighed, and folded his hands in his lap.

There was silence, the only sound in the room was the crackling embers in the grand fireplace.

Draco looked around. "You wanted to have a chat, father?"

"Yes."

Lucius leaned forward.

"I've been waiting a long time for this talk."

Draco's perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed. As you know, The Malfoy's are devoted followers of Voldemort, yes?"

"Yes?" Draco said with a tone of intrigue in his voice.

"You have come so far as a Malfoy, as a man... And as my son." Lucius put his hand on a smiling Draco's shoulder.

"Draco... Voldemort believes you are ready to officially join the deatheaters. You will have your own duties. Voldemort is willing to overlook past matters... Such as when we were struggling to maintain our own duties. I know you will not make the same mistake."

Draco looked up at his fathers face, his gray eyes wide.

"I would be honored, father." Lucius smiled.

"Excellent. The Dark Lord himself will arrive tonight so that you can start the process of receiving your dark mark."

It was midnight, exactly. Voldemort marched in with four other deatheaters at his side, and an evil smile on his pale, disfigured face as he approached Malfoy manor, and rang the doorbell.

It was still raining, and thunder echoed in the distance.

Narcissa answered the door.

"Were ready." Voldemort flashed a toothy grin, before being welcomed in to the manor, which all the lights were turned off in, seeing how Voldemort hated light.

"Where's the boy?" Voldemort asked, sitting on a sofa in the living room in front of a giant window.

"Preparing for the ceremony. Would you like some tea?" Narcissa offered him som tea.

"Eh... No." He sneered at the pot.

"Draco has the makings of a great deatheater. He will do great things."

"We knew he would the second he was born." Lucius chimed in.

"Yes. I can tell he will... But there's just one problem..." His voice trailed off.

"What is it, my lord? We will do anything it takes to make our son worthy to serve you."

" well, you see... There's a girl..." He paused.

Narcissa looked sympathetic for her son. She knew what he was leading up to.

"My lord! Please! Leave the girl out of this! He loves her! I've never seen him as happy as he is with her, and more than anything aside from him serving you... I want him to be happy... And I know for a fact that he'd be miserable without her. You should also consider how his mood would affect his ability to serve as a deatheater."

Voldemort sat there, unmoved by narcissas emotional speech.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you fail to see the reasoning for my decision to keep them apart. This girls parents are the Harmon's. Those muggle-loving blood traitors that you used to attend Hogwarts with. And you know for a fact that no deatheater of mine can be with someone who serves Dumbledore." Lucius's eyes opened wide.

"So that's why Draco always avoided saying her last name!"

Voldemort nodded his head in a "duh" sort of way.

"Make sure he knows to keep his distance... Or else his girl is..." Voldemort crushed a tea cup in his hand with an evil smile on his face.

"Yes, my lord." They both said simultaneously, narcissa hanging her head, feeling sorry for her son.

They immediately stopped talking as they heard Draco coming down the steps.

"I'm ready." Draco said.

Voldemort smiled. "Excellent." The deatheaters formed a circle around Draco and Voldemort.

Lightning flashed outside.

"Roll up your sleeves, boy."

Draco rolled up the sleeves on his blue button up shirt.

"Just a warning... This will only hurt... A little."

Voldemort put his hand over Draco's forearm. A dark mark, which looked like a deep cut started to form on Draco's pale skin.

Draco cringed from the pain, which was starting to to become unbearable.

He fell to his knees, yelling, almost convulsing in pain as Voldemort stood over him, still injecting dark magic inside of him, smirking at his pain.

Narcissa couldn't bear to look at her son.

"There. Rise, my faithful servant." Draco was stood up, clenching his arm, his face screwed up from pain, the dark mark radiating evil magic, and glowing through the cracks of his fingers.

"Now... On to different matters..." Voldemort said.

"Yes?" Draco did his best to conceal his pain.

"Tell me about... Miss Harmon."

Draco was confused. "Sarah? Uh... Well, we've been together since my second year... And I love her more than anything. You know that."

"Oh my! How sweet! I do hope you enjoyed your time with her, because you won't be seeing much of her anymore... Ever."

Draco looked up, shocked.

"My lord! You don't understand! I-" Voldemort cut Draco off with cynical laugh.

"Oh my dear boy, I understand... I simply don't care. Now... If you love her as much as you claim, then you should stay as far away from her as you possibly can if you don't want to see her squished like a bug." He said love like any normal person would say "I stepped in dog poo."

"Please..." Draco said.

"Oh, Draco. You know perfectly well that it is completely unacceptable for any deatheater of mine to be involved with a filthy girl that serves Dumbledore. I shouldn't even have to explain this to you... You should already know."

Draco couldn't give up... Not on Sarah.

"Please, master!" Draco begged.

"Stop begging, boy! It's undignified!" Voldemort slapped Draco, and he fell backwards over a table.

Narcissa rushed to help him.

He slowly stood up again.

"Even if I wanted to allow you to do as you please... I couldn't... You know you can't be with her and I already told you why. So give up on her, you're better off without her."

He knew he couldn't win this fight. So he bowed his head in submission to Voldemort.

"Yes, master."


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