Disclaimer: All the characters in the story don't belong to me, and never
will be! They belong to JK Rowling. So don't sue me.
Dreams
He was running, running from the dark hole that was trying to suck him in. His footfalls echoed harshly through the cold empty corridors. Deep in his heart however, he knew he couldn't run for long. Not when the person chasing him is He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named.
'He's got me,' he thought as he stumbled and doubled over in pain. A sigil on his arm flared brightly, making its painful presence known. The mark of a death-eater.
Draco opened his eyes to the cold blackness that surrounded him. Beads of cold sweat were starting to form on his forehead. He shivered, as he remembered the dream, the memory of something so evil that it threatens to shatter his very core of existence, to take his soul away. He knew it wouldn't be too long from now. Soon, his father would want him to be marked. To become a soulless and mindless creature. To become a death eater. He shivered again, and slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
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The next morning, a sleepy and bleary-eyed Draco fumbled his way to the breakfast table. On the way, he bumped into Lucis Malfroy, his dear father.
"Dad?" Draco asked, still not fully awake.
"Watch where you are going son, and come and see me after breakfast." With that, he stalked off into his study, while Draco gulped audibly.
'What does he want?' He thought, growing frantic. 'Nonononono, not that not that, I'm not ready for that yet!'
Forcing himself to calm down, he turned and went to eat his breakfast, too distracted to taste the wonderful spread that lay before him.
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will be! They belong to JK Rowling. So don't sue me.
Dreams
He was running, running from the dark hole that was trying to suck him in. His footfalls echoed harshly through the cold empty corridors. Deep in his heart however, he knew he couldn't run for long. Not when the person chasing him is He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named.
'He's got me,' he thought as he stumbled and doubled over in pain. A sigil on his arm flared brightly, making its painful presence known. The mark of a death-eater.
Draco opened his eyes to the cold blackness that surrounded him. Beads of cold sweat were starting to form on his forehead. He shivered, as he remembered the dream, the memory of something so evil that it threatens to shatter his very core of existence, to take his soul away. He knew it wouldn't be too long from now. Soon, his father would want him to be marked. To become a soulless and mindless creature. To become a death eater. He shivered again, and slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
--------------------------------------
The next morning, a sleepy and bleary-eyed Draco fumbled his way to the breakfast table. On the way, he bumped into Lucis Malfroy, his dear father.
"Dad?" Draco asked, still not fully awake.
"Watch where you are going son, and come and see me after breakfast." With that, he stalked off into his study, while Draco gulped audibly.
'What does he want?' He thought, growing frantic. 'Nonononono, not that not that, I'm not ready for that yet!'
Forcing himself to calm down, he turned and went to eat his breakfast, too distracted to taste the wonderful spread that lay before him.
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