Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.
The Talk
Malfoy led them down the stairs towards the Slytherin common room, then passed it, and passed the Potions class, and seemed to take far too many twists and turns. "Trying to get me lost, Malfoy?"
He turned around, a slight sneer on his face, and replied, "What, can't keep up, Potter? Afraid of the dark?"
"You wish." Harry stepped up beside Malfoy, meaning to ask how much farther they were going when the taller boy turned sharply aside to sit at a table mostly hidden in an alcove of the wall. He backpedaled, cursing under his breath the fact that Malfoy had gotten the better of him. Malfoy was already pulling out books, not one to be distracted. They worked in silence for a few minutes, until Harry couldn't stand it anymore. "So, why don't you have a Dark Mark, anyways?"
Malfoy's head snapped up, eyes flashing with cold fire, and he seemed ready to throw out a stinging retort, but then the fire dimmed, and he dropped his face back down to his parchment. Harry was just about to ask again when he said, "It... it's not... You'd be better off forgetting it, Potter."
"Why?"
"Dammit, Potter, why can't you just keep your nose out of it?" Draco slammed down the quill, face intense with some unidentifiable emotion as he glared over at Harry.
Harry was starting to have second thoughts about this now. The look on the Slytherin's face was one of desperation, or something like it, and he really didn't want to provoke Malfoy while they were alone, in some section of the dungeons no one was at all likely to come. "Er... maybe, well..."
"What? Decided that being famous and well liked isn't enough? Now you have to come and get me thrown in Azkaban to bring in a little more publicity?"
"Malfoy, it's not like that at all... if you knew what it was like..."
"No. You know something Potter? You think you have it so hard, don't you?" Malfoy was talking faster and harder, like he both wanted to say it, but was scared he'd get caught at it. "You have no idea what hard is!"
Harry spoke, before Malfoy cut him off again, "What were you talking about, forgetting it? And since when do you know or care what my state of being is like?"
"I mean you could get us both killed. I know the Dark Lord has some sort of connection to you, and if he thought you knew something, he'd waste no time in killing me, and likely come after you all the faster. And he wouldn't be at all quick about it. Potter," he said, leaning closer to him, "you might fancy yourself a pretty decent wizard. You might even be right. But, I can promise you this. You have no notion of what he can do to a person. It can take you weeks to die, and that's if he gets bored. The curses he knows... the curses they all know... keep your nose out, Potter, that's all I'm saying."
"You know Malfoy? I've never listened to you before, and I'm not going to take your advice now." Harry could see something big was looming behind Malfoy's eyes, and it was something that could instill real fear in the Slytherin. Harry had to know what that was. "So tell me what's going on. I know we've never exactly got along. I know I'm not the most likely person to talk to. But, Draco, I'll listen. And I might just understand more than you know."
Malfoy's face, always so hard and cruel, flickered for a moment, showing a soft, vulnerable side, one which badly wanted to let go, to trust, to talk. He took a shuddering breath, letting his head drop down. When he lifted it again, his face was an impassive mask. "Life as a Death Eater's son isn't exactly easy." Draco's voice was calm, barely above a whisper. "The things I've been expected to see, to do... Have you ever seen a Death Eater's inauguration ceremony?" When Harry shook his head, he continued, "It's horrific. As a... cadet, you might say, I was required to attend those for my friends ahead of me. Crabbe and Goyle, theirs' were fairly simple. They each had a muggle to perform various curses on, prove they could stomach inflicting pain on a helpless person, or better yet, enjoy it. That, believe it or not, was the easiest part.
"Once the person on the floor barely resembled a living creature at all, they were required to kill it, usually with Avada Kedavra, or some other killing curse, or by just about any means, really. Crabbe managed a curse, Goyle crushed the skull of his. Then, they are tested for... endurance. Each Death Eater has their turn at cursing the wizard in the middle, causing as much pain as they will in their minute. If the Dark Lord approves of them, they are then branded." Draco broke off with a shudder, the first sign of life he'd shown since he started the narrative. "The smell, and the sound... I believe you've been to a barbeque, right? Our Lord likes the burning, the screams of his new servants, their whimpers as their Mark burns as they lie on the floor.
"And the better the witch or wizard, the worse the trials. Marcus, Marcus Flint, you remember him? He was in that room for five hours, and looked like the Lestranges did fresh out of Azkaban. For days. He's still not the same, much more quiet, obedient... and he's got no confidence. He can't even catch a quaffle anymore. And Blaise..." Draco choked on the name, blinked carefully as he continued. "Blaise couldn't handle it. His mind snapped, couldn't handle the pain... and they laughed. Merlin, even his father laughed. And the Dark Lord told Father to dispose of him. And Father, he told... he told me... told me to do it. I looked at him, his eyes clouded with pain as he stared up at me. Harry, he recognized me, I swear it. As I raised my wand, he recognized me..." A tear escaped the corner of his eye, tricked down his cheek. Voice cracking, Draco continued as Harry sat in stunned silence across the table, "When I did it, when I killed him, my best friend, and I killed him, he looked so happy, so grateful... And everyone there, all these people that had been my family and friends my whole life long, they were proud. Proud that I could use an unforgivable curse so efficiently before I was initiated.
"And then... then it was my turn." His voice was calm again, though even quieter than before. Harry leaned in to listen. "Father came to get me, woke me up, told me to get into some black robes, to get ready. I obeyed, too numb to do anything else. I couldn't eat, probably would have lost it all during the torture anyway. It was the middle of the night, we had to fly there, the wards around the House prevented portkeys or apparation. We were about three miles east of London when I just snapped. I don't know what did it, maybe the rain, or I just had a moment of being sensible or something, or maybe the cold just knocked me out for a second. I dived, got inside the fog banks along the Thames before Father saw me. I dodged most of the curses, got a couple on my back, singed the tail of my broom, but got into London proper free. I took out as much money as the goblins would let me, got a room in the Leaky Cauldron, basically stayed in hiding, went to Hogwarts as soon as I could. Don't know what to do now. Everyone knows my family's a bunch of hardcore Death Eaters, so I'm not wanted by the free world. My friends are all dead or slaves to the Dark Lord, He'll kill me, worse than what happened to Blaise if I go back there." The cool, hard exterior was crumbling Draco teetering between laughter and tears. "I... I have nowhere to go. I've screwed up my life so bad, and it wasn't even all my fault. Not my fault...not..." he trailed off, shoulders shaking.
"Oh, by the four, Draco... I never knew..." Harry had no idea what to say. This was Hermionie's field. He reached out awkwardly and put his hand on Malfoy's shuddering shoulder, wishing he knew what to do. His mind flew back, thinking about Cho, how people tried to help him after Sirius, the Weasleys and Fleur when Bill had been killed by Death Eaters, and still couldn't come up with any help. He just sat there helplessly, trying to comfort what had been his rival while he shook and shuddered, facing demons no one should have to.