DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters mentioned and I'm not making any money out of this. Only the plot is mine.

WARNING: This fan fic contains slash themes, which is male/male relationships. If homosexual themes bother you, don't read this.

Rated: R, not really worth it yet but I'm anticipating events to come ;)

This one's long!!! To make up for the fact that you won't get much for a while! I've been neglecting my work and I have to do it all at once now!

Chapter 11

"I'm glad you decided to return home for the holidays Draco" said Lucius, giving his son a cold, calculating stare. Draco held his father's gaze willing himself not to look away. He'd been home for two days now and the inevitable 'talk' with his father was long overdue. He fidgeted slightly in his comfortable leather seat and dropped his eyes, looking around the impeccably decorated study.

"The next two weeks will be very busy for us." Lucius continued. "We have many guests to entertain. Also," here Lucius paused as though holding back some dreadfully exciting piece of information to prolong the suspense, "Our Lord has requested your presence at a small ceremony which is to be held the day before you return to Hogwarts. I'm so proud Draco, your time has finally come and the Malfoy legacy will continue." Draco's heart sank as the terror began to rise in his mind. His father was obviously waiting for some reaction from him, trying to maintain a steady voice and cool exterior, he said,

"Father, as enthralled as I am by this honour our Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me, surely it is slightly unwise for me to receive the Mark due to my position at Hogwarts." His diplomatic tone did nothing to calm his father's reaction to this. He rose to his feet and began pacing angrily in front of Draco.

"Don't even think about trying to refuse." he hissed. "I don't know why you seem so reluctant to take your place beside me! You will not embarrass me Draco." He stood still now, looking down at Draco with an icy expression. Draco was still struggling to remain calm. This was not going well.

"I don't mean to refuse when the time is right. This is not a matter of my loyalties or my wish to please you. I just feel that I may be more useful at Hogwarts, right next to Dumbledore. If I bear the Dark Mark, I may be discovered. I don't mean to disappoint you father." Lucius' face had soured even more at the mention of Dumbledore's name. He leaned in close to Draco and lifted his hand, palm up, level to the side of Draco's head. In a swift movement, he brought his hand to Draco's cheek, stopping just before making contact. Draco flinched, and Lucius smiled, patting his son's cheek softly.

"Very well." he said, breaking eye-contact and taking his seat again. "Besides, I believe our Lord only had a little test in mind for you. He's saving your initiation for a more special date."

"I'm honoured that he thinks so much of me."

"Yes, you should be. It is because of me that you are even in such a privileged situation. So, is there any news from school?"

"No, nothing much is happening from what I can tell. There's going to be a Summer Ball the day we get back, something about helping us to relax before our exams." Draco forced sarcasm into his voice, aware that his father would very quickly be able to tell that he was lying if he slipped even slightly.

"Well, I'm sure your exams shouldn't be a problem. Besides, they are quickly becoming irrelevant, it is your skills in other, ah, areas that will have to be improved. And Mr Potter? How is our favourite Golden boy?" The derogatory tone to Lucius' voice was obvious. This was the biggest test of Draco's lying abilities. He let his face sour, adopting his patented sneer and put a bitter note in his voice.

"He is insufferable as ever."

"Good. Well, I will have a small job for you concerning him later." An evil smile crossed Lucius' face and Draco suppressed a shiver.

**********

Draco left his father's study, feeling exhausted by the verbal sparring. Conversations of this kind with Lucius were always more about what had been left unsaid, and Draco was very confused. All he knew was that he was going to have to be very careful to hide his feelings from his father. He had the feeling Lucius didn't quite trust him.

Draco returned to his room at the far end of the Malfoy manor, and sighed with relief when he closed and locked the door. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out his thoughts. The guests were arriving the next day; a family from Switzerland with whom his father was hoping to solidify a friendship of sorts. Draco had never met them but he wasn't relishing the idea; he knew what kind of people they would be.

He slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Harry's hands on him; nails dragging down his back that opened his skin and made him bleed.

**********

The majority of the holiday passed fairly quickly and uneventfully for Draco. His father spent most of the time locked away in his study conducting highly confidential meetings with his 'associates'. Draco was not present at any of these meetings and his frustration at being kept out of the loop was building. He was beginning to think that his time at home was being completely wasted. His biggest problem was trying not to appear overly interested or eager to hear about Lucius' work. He had to be extremely careful not to draw too much attention to himself. However, with Voldemort's plans for him, he would have thought that Lucius would have let him become more involved.

Draco was becoming more aware of just how much time Lucius was spending on his 'work' and he was afraid that that meant there was some plan being brewed. Also, if his father's hints were anything to go by, this plan had something to do with Harry. This worried Draco immensely and made him even more desperate to find out what was going on.

The Berger family had arrived from Switzerland, and were apparently staying for the foreseeable future. Draco had immediately disliked Mr Berger and his wife. Mr Berger was a short, pot-bellied man with a moustache and no hair. He had looked like Draco as though he was the scum on the top of a pond and had refused to talk to him. Mrs Berger had an almost identical sour expression on her face as her husband, and she barely said anything. The Bergers had also brought their children with them. A daughter, called Angelina, who was ten and was constantly excited. Draco had instantly liked her and had spent many hours playing with her outside. She was fascinated by his tales of Hogwarts and had on numerous occasions expressed a wish to go there. This was impossible of course, as all Swiss children went to the same school: Straussenheim. Draco had heard many stories of this place and it sounded extremely unpleasant. He couldn't picture such a bubbly creature as Angelina there.

The Bergers also had a son, Daniel, who was Draco's age. On first seeing him, Draco had been taken aback by how handsome he was. Daniel had sandy blond hair and pale blue eyes. He was tall, carried himself gracefully, and was obviously very interested in Draco. He hadn't taken his eyes off him the whole time when their parents had been talking. Draco, however, had sat and compared Daniel to Harry, and had found that, as beautiful as he was, Daniel just didn't measure up to. There was a fire to Harry that was intoxicating, and Draco found that Daniel missed this; he was beautiful but cold.

The first evening the Bergers had arrived, Draco and Daniel had grown bored of their parents' conversation and had decided to take a walk around the grounds. Angelina had long been in bed so Draco had to settle for Daniel's company. They had walked in silence for a while; Draco was staring at the stars, thinking about Harry and almost completely ignoring Daniel, who seemed entranced by Draco.

"I expect you know why my father is here." said Daniel suddenly.

"Hmm? What? Oh yes." said Draco, pulled out of his reverie.

"Voldemort is very interested in our country, he wishes to expand his connections."

"Yes, so I gather." said Draco slowly, giving Daniel a calculating stare. They lapsed into silence again, but Draco was slightly more alert. Daniel was walking very close to him, and the backs of their hands kept brushing. They talked more for a while, but Draco grew bored. Daniel didn't seem to have anything interesting to say and, to be honest, he had a very boring voice. He bid Daniel farewell a few minutes later and vowed to try and stay away from him.

Avoiding Daniel however, had not been as easy as he had thought. His father had insisted that they spend time together, obviously thinking that this would somehow appease Mr Berger even more. Daniel had vaguely hinted about his interest in Draco, who had stoically ignored this and hoped he would stop it.

This holiday was becoming as tedious and fruitless as all the others.

**********

Draco returned to his room after dinner on the final night of the holiday feeling extremely nervous. His mother had been fawning over him all night, trying to get him to eat more and playing with his hair. Normally he would have just thought that she was trying to compensate for the fact that he was going away again early the following morning, but she was nervous as well. She knew what was going to happen tonight.

Contrary to the opinion of most at Hogwarts, until the previous summer Draco had lead a very sheltered life. His father had tried hard to protect him from the more gruesome aspects of his life and he had never actually met Voldemort. This was to be a milestone in his life as a Death Eater, and also his life as a spy. If Voldemort suspected even for a minute that Draco wasn't being completely truthful he would be dead within a second. Draco was under no false belief that his father would do anything to help him either. In his father's eyes it was time for him to be a man and stand alone.

Both Snape and Dumbledore had warned Draco that there would be tests of his loyalty, but neither had mentioned exactly what they believed he would be expected to do. As Draco slowly got ready to leave, vivid images invaded his mind, increasing the sense of horror that was building in him.

He really had no idea what was going to happen that night. He didn't even know where they were going. All Lucius had told him was to dress for outside. Draco assumed this meant that they were to Portkey somewhere.

There was another reason for Draco's anxiety. He hadn't been able to find out anything about Voldemort's plans. He was now sure that something was going on; his father was looking tired and strained from endless conversations with Voldemort and other Death Eaters, but also strangely excited at the same time. This look sickened Draco to his core.

Tonight would be his last, and best, chance to find out anything he could that may be helpful. He would be sincerely glad to get back to the relative safety of Hogwarts; away from his father, the Bergers, Daniel and Voldemort, but he didn't want to be a disappointment.

His mind wandered back to the ordeal he would have to go through that evening, and his hands began to shake.

**********

Draco met Lucius at the entrance to Malfoy Manor, still feeling very apprehensive about his first meeting with Voldemort. His father was oddly silent as they left, which made him even more nervous. There were no last minute instructions, encouragements or threats. Draco had expected all of this and more from his father, but he got none of it. Due to the protective spells surrounding the manor, they had to walk some distance before they could travel safely by Portkey.

They finally stopped when they reached a secluded spot, surrounded by birch trees. Draco felt hyper-aware of everything around him; he could smell the scent of lavender from a bush nearby, he could hear every bird singing and the rustle of every leaf. He was aware of the erratic beating of his heart and the sweat that was building at his hair-line. Lucius pulled out a fine, silver chain with a cross pendant attached to it. Draco stared at it briefly, wondering at the significance of it, and then touched the pendant, feeling the familiar tug at his navel. He was constantly aware of his father's presence at his side as he felt his feet leaving the ground.

When his feet touched solid ground again, Draco had to close his eyes to help him retain his balance. When he opened them again, he had to suppress a gasp. He was in what appeared to be a huge cathedral. The high ceiling was covered in intricately carved designs. There were faded tapestries on the walls, with vaguely familiar symbols on them, showing moons and stars. His gaze travelled slowly to the front, where a large marble alter stood, covered in dust. Standing before the alter, with his back to them, was a tall, thin man, dressed in long, black robes. At the sound of their arrival, he turned and Draco was pierced by red, shining eyes. Lord Voldemort. He gulped audibly and began to shake.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder, and Draco turned to his father, who was looking down at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He turned back to face Voldemort, who was approaching them.

"Lucius, Draco, welcome." he said. His voice was dry and cold; sounding like the thud of ancient tombstones.

"My Lord." said Lucius, bowing slightly. Draco just continued to stare. Voldemort ignored Lucius and looked intently at Draco again, who visibly withered and averted his eyes. The man made his skin crawl. His pallid skin seemed to hang from his face, and those eyes…

"Welcome to the Temple of Souls Draco." said Voldemort, spreading his arms expansively. "It's not at its best right now, having fallen into disrepair I'm afraid. In its day it was…magnificent. Do you know the story of this place?"

"No sir." said Draco quietly, willing his voice not to shake. "I've never heard of it before."

"Well of course you haven't. Very few people have." Voldemort began to pace, as he spoke in a slow, clear voice which echoed eerily through the hall. "Many centuries ago, a faction of monks lived here. They spent their time meditating; expanding their minds beyond the mundane. They achieved many great magical feats and were able to develop many amazing skills. They were admired and revered in the magical community of the time."

Draco took the time while Voldemort was talking to attempt to regain control over himself. He examined the way the man moved as he walked and talked. His movements were smooth and confident, and the power seemed to be oozing out of him. He could see how he managed to exert such control over people's minds. Draco had to keep reminding himself of the dangerous position he was in, and the necessity to monitor every word that came out of his mouth. Voldemort was no fool, and any slip would be fatal.

"Unfortunately," Voldemort continued, "those in the muggle community nearby were intimidated by their power. They feared something they had no way of comprehending. One night, some men from the village entered this temple and killed every monk as they slept. It was a massacre Draco. Vicious, bloody and completely unprovoked. There is a lesson to be learnt from what happened here, and this place has become an important symbol to me over the years."

"I see." said Draco, completely missing the point but not wanting to ask. Voldemort stopped pacing and faced Draco again. This time Draco didn't drop his gaze.

"Lucius!" Voldemort snapped suddenly, reminding Draco of his father's presence. "Go and retrieve the girl. You know where she is."

"Yes my lord." said Lucius, and left by a side door. Draco sent a confused look to Voldemort, uneasy at being left alone with him.

"Aah, don't worry, he won't be long. Now Draco, your father has assured me of your devotion to me, however I have some tests for you. You must realise that I will not tolerate weakness in my followers, and this is just a small test to prove your strength. I'm sure you will perform admirably." Draco's palms were sweating as numerous images passed through his head, each more horrific than the last.

Lucius re-entered the hall, his progress somewhat hampered now by the weight of the unconscious body of…'Oh God…no…it can't be…'

**********

Draco felt sick as the true horror of what he was seeing sank in. He stared at the body, recognising the face that had haunted his waking dreams so many times. He looked from the expressionless face of his father, to the glittering eyes of Voldemort, who was gauging his reaction to this carefully. He looked down at the body again and felt the panic rise in him. There could only be one reason why this person was here: they wanted him to finish it. This was beyond anything he had expected or thought he could cope with. His past was rising to meet his present, the two were entwining and in the back of his mind, the screaming voices started again.

"Yes, you recognise her don't you?" asked Voldemort, a sickeningly self-satisfied tone in his voice.

"How could I not." said Draco softly, he was trying to think fast; he needed to survive this but he was wondering at what cost. "But how?" Voldemort looked to Lucius, who was looking at his son.

"Everything is a test son." he said. "You just sometimes don't know it." The nausea rose again in Draco's stomach and he fought the urge to wretch, as he realised what his father had done. Amazingly, his face remained passive as he waited for Lucius to continue.

"Last summer was the last time you saw this girl. Since then, she has been held captive by me at the manor. We thought that, due to the way you reacted, it would be, ah, suitable for her to be present now. She suffered a great deal to be here today Draco, she should feel proud to be here for such a momentous occasion." Draco stared incredulously at his father, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. 'All this time she was there. All the times I've been there and I didn't know. God knows what they did to her…' He contemplated the girl in front of him; she was beyond thin, her skin was stretched taut over her bones and her hair looked thin and dry. Her nails were ragged and there was some slight bruising to her face. He tore his eyes away from her to look again at his father. 'Can this really be the same man that carried me on his shoulders when I was young and gave me everything I wanted? He protected me for so long, why is he doing this now? How could he do this to me?' Deep down, he realised that he had never truly known his father.

Voldemort stepped behind Draco, leaning over his shoulder and looking down at the nameless girl.

"This girl represents all that we fight against." Voldemort whispered in his ear. "She is a muggle, she had no idea that our world even existed. She is ignorant. She means nothing to us. We are above her. She is your test Draco." Draco was vaguely aware of his father walking away, pacing to the front by the alter and calmly expecting one of the tapestries there.

"Wake her up Draco." Draco lifted his wand slowly.

"Enervate." he whispered, unable to believe that it had come to this. The girl's eyes sprang open and she stared around wildly. She stayed completely still as she tried to take in her new surroundings. Her breath hitched and increased in speed and her hands balled convulsively. Draco watched as her panic attack took hold of her, and forced himself not to look away as it subsided. As her breathing began to calm, her eyes turned to him. He flinched, but didn't look away; fortunately, Voldemort didn't sense it.

"Look at her Draco. You've seen her like this before, but you didn't like it did you?"

"No."

"You were young then. You've learnt much more about us now; you know what really drives us don't you?"

"Yes." 'Hate' thought Draco, truly disgusted now. He couldn't stop staring at her. The sight of her tortured body was all he could see. All he could hear was the poison Voldemort was pouring into his mind. 'I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.' but he had to.

"Good. Now, here you will learn some more. Cruciatus, Draco." Draco looked at Voldemort, and saw that he was staring at the girl too. Instead of the horror he felt though, Voldemort looked thrilled, almost intoxicated by the power he thought he had. Draco felt numb, completely detached from his body as he looked back at her and raised his wand. He saw the pleading in her eyes, the tenseness in her limbs, and there was nothing he could do. He stood with his wand pointed at her, not moving or saying anything for a long time.

"Draco?" Voldemort was getting impatient.

"Crucio." whispered Draco almost imperceptibly. The spell hit her full force, and Draco didn't think he'd heard a sound worse than that girl's screaming. It stabbed into his head and shook his bones. He watched as she writhed on the floor, beyond coherent thought as the pain ripped through her frail body.

"Finite incantatum." He whispered again, and her screaming stopped. She lay motionless on the floor except for the hitching of her chest as she breathed.

"Well done my boy." said Voldemort, and Draco found that he couldn't look him in the eye anymore. He knew what was coming next.

"Don't you think she's suffered enough now?" he asked, almost begging.

"It is not for us to show mercy Draco, you should know that by now. Mercy is one more weakness, but you are young and you will not learn everything in one night. There is one more thing for you to do for me."

"Yes. I know." Draco looked down at her and raised his wand once more. He looked deep into the eyes of the life he was about to snuff out, and realised he didn't even know her name. He saw the fear in her, and comforted himself with the thought that at least her ordeal would be over soon. His would last forever. Voldemort was fidgeting beside him. Lucius had returned and was now standing on the other side of Draco.

"Avada Kedavra." he said, and didn't flinch at the green light that exploded from his wand. He now knew a sound worse than her screaming, it was the sound of her silence.

Lucius gripped his son's shoulder again, and this time there was pride in his eyes.

**********

I'm a murderer.

I've killed another human being.

If Harry could see me now, he wouldn't love me.

I'm weak, so afraid of death that I'll take an innocent's life.

If only Harry could see me now.

It should have been me.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. What have I done? My hands. There's blood on my hands. It should be mine, not hers. How could my father do this to me? How many times has he done something like that? This stupid war isn't worth this. I'm not worth this. I should have died rather than do that, but I'm too weak.

Oh god, what have I done? I can't get the sound of her screams out of my head. It's echoing over and over; driving me mad.

I killed a person; took a life that wasn't my own. I've become everything I feared I would and more. I should have been more prepared. I should have known, but I didn't think my father would sink that low. Why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be anyone? How am I supposed to live with myself now? How am I supposed to go on? I can't take this.

Is this what Snape meant by tests? How many times has he done something like this? Or was this a special torture reserved just for me? Why did it have to be her? How am I supposed to go on?

But I know I have to. I can't die now, because of what I've done. More than ever now, I have to stay alive. I couldn't save her, but there will be others. But how am I supposed to cope?

Harry. He'll hate me when he finds out. How could anyone love such a disgusting creature? He thinks he knows me, but he doesn't really. He wouldn't have killed her. Harry would have been noble and brave and died instead. Harry would never be put in such a position.

Harry. Harry. Harry. I think I need you now. I don't want to live in this darkness anymore Harry, and you're the only light I can see. Will you save me from myself? Because I can't do this on my own anymore. I didn't understand how hard this would be.

You're more important to me now than any of this. I don't care about the past, I don't care about politics, none of that's important. What I feel for you is what matters. I should have cherished the love you gave me, but I didn't respect it enough. I love you so much it hurts, and from now on it will only be about us because I need you.

I don't want to die alone and screaming like she did. I don't want to die without knowing your touch. I love you, and I will make you mine.

**********

If I've killed one man, I've killed two-

The vampire who said he was you

And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you.

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

Daddy – Sylvia Plath

A/N: oh my god!!! I should have been working but I spent all of yesterday writing this instead!! It's just so addictive! Don't suppose you really care though as long as I keep updating right? Well don't worry, I don't think I'll be able to stop until it's all finished. I'm becoming quite proud of my little story!

NayNymic: don't worry, I'll leave a warning just for you! I don't like the ones that make me cry either, but they're the best kind really.

SoulSister: the angst is just gonna go on and on…

Xirleb70: wish I had enough money to afford highlights! Thanx for the reviews

Crystal: I haven't been reading any lately because I've been writing and it'd put me off! But when I do read them I like the funny ones. Why? Is this too similar to another one??

Serenitas: please don't throw yourself in front of a bus!!! Sorry, no hints for the ending! It's obviously gonna be angsty though!

Aron: I can't promise daily, but I'll write as quickly as I can! I do have a life you know! (well actually…)

All reviews are welcome!!!