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Part 1

I'm so tired of being here,
Suppressed by all my childish fears.
And if you have to leave,
I wish that you would just leave.
Because your presence still lingers here,
And it wont leave me alone...

These wounds won't seem to heal,
This pain is just too real.
There's just too much that time cannot erase...

When you'd cried I'd, wipe away all of your tears,
When you'd scream I'd, fight away all of your fears.
And I've held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

You used to captivate me,
By your resonating light.
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.
Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams.
Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me.

These wounds wont seem to heal...
This pain is just too real,
There's just too much that time cannot erase.

When you'd cried I'd, wipe away all of your tears,
When you'd scream I'd, fight away all of your fears.
And I've held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone,
But though you're still with me...
I've been alone all along.

Lyrics from 'My Immortal', by Evanescence

"Now Draco, this is it".

Lucius Malfoy leaned in towards his son, the first stages of a proud smile playing on his lips, the type fathers get when they're so proud of their sons. He turned and joined up a gap in the circle of figures that surrounded Draco.

They all wore long black robes, and with their hoods up were barely distinguishable from Dementors, right down to the cold dread they interleaved wherever they went. Voldemort's collection of Death Eaters had swelled since the attack on the Ministry in July, and it was only mid August. Draco stood resolutely in the centre of the circle, his face stony pale, and no fear at all evident on his face. If anything, a similar smile to his father's adorned his young handsome features, one that anticipated eagerly what was to come. A silence rivalling any other fell over the room as another cloaked figure entered through a side door. He stalked straight to the centre of the circle and faced Draco, his wand drawn in front of him.

Draco knelt down, his head bowed, face serious. The ring of Death Eaters watched eagerly as Voldemort raised Draco to his feet without a word and tore the left sleeve of his robes off. There was no fearful or compulsive movement from Draco; it was eerie, as though this very ceremony was the only thing he had lived for, the only thing he would ever live for, something to treasure, as one would a jewel. Voldemort pulled Draco's arm straight and pointed his wand at the inner forearm. Draco saw him close his eyes in concentration and very soon felt a deep scorching on his skin. He closed his own eyes, fighting to keep the pain from his face, as he had artfully been taught to do by his father. When he opened his eyes, a black Dark Mark was emblazoned onto his pale skin and he fell to his knees reverently although it felt as though a hot poker had just been pressed into his body.

"I Draco Malfoy solemnly swear upon my own life that I shall adhere and follow the Death Eaters, and that any action, on my part that abhors the act of the Dark Side will result in my termination as a Death Eater and my execution".

These words flew from his mouth with well rehearsed accuracy, and a pleased smirk was etched onto those perfect features of his face, as though he knew this was what he had waited for all his life.

"Draco I'm so proud of you" smiled Narcissa as Lucius and Draco stepped through the door of Malfoy Mansion. Narcissa pulled Draco into an embrace, with an equally proud and somewhat satisfied smile on her face. Lucius kissed her cheek stonily and walked alone into the entrance hall. "What's wrong with your father"? asked Narcissa, hanging up Draco's cloak and pulling his left arm towards her.

"I'll explain in there", replied Draco, with equally stony contempt as his father, pointing towards the main living room. Narcissa let go of his arm and followed him through, then seated herself with a demure grace onto a black leather couch. "Well"? she prompted, smiling a motherly smile.

"I didn't just get into the Dark Side mother", said Draco, "I'm not just a Death Eater".

There was silence, as Draco let these words create the right amount of suspense between them until curiosity urged Narcissa to prompt him again.

"Not just a Death Eater? What else is-"

"I've been chosen mother. I know father never mentioned this to you, but The Dark Lord has chosen me as an understudy, one of many, I'm only like tenth in command, in case anything ever backfires again. Although it shouldn't really this time" he finished resolutely.

"I-I don't understand", stammered Narcissa, "so you mean to tell me that you're an understudy? But you're only 15 years old Draco, I won't have this".

"Mother it's not a matter for me or-"

"I told you I won't have it"! she shouted standing up suddenly and moving towards the door, "I just won't"!

There was silence as footsteps could be heard creaking down the corridor. Soft, cat like footsteps that came closer and closer, never altering their pace.

A shadow fell across the living room, and Lucius Malfoy's large form filled the doorway. Narcissa's breath quickened as she steeled herself to look him in the eye, if only for a second before she turned away.

"Narcissa, sweetheart, you never disagree with the Dark Lord", he whispered in her ear.

His hand came down upon her shoulder, and with this threatening rather than protective gesture, he steered her from the room, leaving Draco only to listen for the scream he knew would issue from wherever he had taken her.

Putting both sweaty palms face down on his lap, he relaxed his back, and let his eyes wander freely for the first time. A large bay window provided an outlet from the black living room, towards the front gardens of the mansion. Draco was never one to notice anything except himself, but he picked himself up and walked over to window, leaning both palms on the pane, relaxed completely.

He looked into the glass, at the vague reflection that stared back at him. A distant, unreal representation of what he really was.

A pale 15 year old stood there, with floppy blond hair falling about his handsome face, and black robes adorning his thin body. His eyes were barely visible on the reflection, though if someone were to look into them they would have seen infinitely blue, crystalline depths, seen right into his mind. What was there would have turned them away, would make them hate him even more than they already did. A pre-conceived idea was proved, just by looking into those icy portals to his thoughts.

For Draco was evil. Pure evil. All he wanted was to be part of the Dark Side. All he wanted was a Pureblood race. Nothing else. All other feelings, that make a human a person, those emotions that make a person a man did not penetrate his frozen exterior. Those emotions had never been introduced to him. He was best left to his own devices, by even his parents, who although exercised brutal control over him, knew his true motives, his true character. He had secured the most prestigious position in Voldemort's army, and as a result was free to leave Hogwarts. He was right where he wanted to be. Exactly.