Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. And I just realized, every chapter I write at Malfoy Manor, I make up more house elves cause it's easier than checking previous chapters for house elf names, lol. Besides, the Malfoys probably have tons anyway.

A/N: Wow, I suck. I truly, truly suck. 1 month and 16 days since my last update. Like I said, I suck, and I'm sorry. I do want to thank you all for being patient with me, and tell you not to worry - I AM NOT GIVING UP ON THIS STORY. Total opposite, actually. I've got so many different ways I can end this, so I'm still deciding on that. Okay, this is extra long, like I promised (almost 12 pages, size 10 font) and review if you'd like, even if it's only to tell me off for the long time in between updates, lol.

Thank you very much for all the reviews, they have not gone unnoticed, even if the story has gone un-updated for a while, lol.

The Pain Within
Chapter 22: Refusal To Fail

Draco dropped his trunk on the marble floor of the Manor. Two house-elves hastily scurried in at the heavy thud and hastened to transport the trunk to his room. Removing his cloak and hanging it in the foyer closet, he walked into the main part of the Manor searching for other forms of human life. His father failed to meet him at the train station yet again. Draco doubted the Lestranges, or any other Death Eater for that matter, were currently visiting, due to the fact that the Manor wasn't cleaned or decorated in any grandiose display of arrogance and wealth. He continued scanning each room as he strode down one of the Manor's many corridors, but to both his disappointment and dread, found no one. He searched as much of the first floor as he could before his impatience exploded and he demanded to know his parents' whereabouts from the first house-elf he spotted.

The last Mizzy heard, sir, Master and Mistress was upstairs, sir, the petite house-elf revealed.

Draco scowled at the miserable creature before dismissing it and shooting for the stairs. The fact that both his parents were upstairs didn't bother him, but that they were heard upstairs. Or, most likely, Lucius was heard. Draco felt the bile rising in his stomach as anger began to scorch his insides. Once he reached the second floor landing, he marched toward his mother's wing of the house. He heard a raised voice coming from her study, the room in which she read or stitched her time away. As he neared the door, his thoughts were taking a very dangerous edge; if he acted on any of them, he would surely land a cell in Azkaban.

Damn caution, damn the Order, damn my future, damn it all to hell! If he has one finger on her, I swear to Merlin I will rip him to bloody pieces....

He turned the brass doorknob and burst into the room. Whatever conversation or screaming that had been occurring quickly stopped. His startled mother was elegantly seated on her mauve loveseat, her shock subsiding as a small smile greeted the intruder. Lucius glared at Draco from his position next to one of the mahogany bookshelves where he was standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

Have you no manners, just charging into the room like that? Knock next time, you insolent brat, he hissed.

Draco said nothing and glared at his father while he glanced between his mother and father in scrutiny. Narcissa sensed his anger and implication from that single action, and quickly sought to relieve the building tension in the room

Welcome home, Draco. How are you?

Draco's gaze remained on his father. Hello, Mum. I'm okay, he answered. He broke eye contact with Lucius. How are you?

The pale woman detected her husband's stiffened form. Oh, I'm fine, she said airily. Your father and I were just discussing the events of this week, and I -

We were not discussing, Lucius sneered. I was merely informing you, Narcissa. There was nothing to discuss, he said coldly, striding toward Draco. I want to speak with you in my study now, Draco.

As soon as he passed Draco, the teen made a move to rush over to his mother, but a strong hand snaked out and prevented him.

I believe I said now.

Glaring at one parent, and sending an apologetic glance of concern at the other, Draco was dragged out of the room. He spent the tense journey downstairs to Lucius's study calming himself down. He wasn't sure where the confidence to confront his father with such mutinous glares came from, but he knew it had to return soon. His father would suspect something odd, and he didn't need any suspicions at such a crucial time. By the time the pair reached Lucius's study, Draco recovered his regular impassive countenance again. Upon being ordered to, he took a seat in a high-backed velvet clad seat. His father sat down in a dignified manner in his seat, and Draco stared at his hands while he waited for his father to speak.

I do not appreciate your attitude, Draco.

I apologize, Father, Draco said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

Lucius rested his chin in his hand and stared at the fire. Hmm, I'm sure you do. How are your grades?

Draco cringed at what he had to say. The truth always hurt. Literally. But it was better than lies, which would hurt even more.

I'm doing well in all my classes. My transfiguration grade isn't as high as it should be, but I'm working to improve it.

Lucius slightly turned his head. Well work hard, he ordered, or you'll be punished. I assume the mudblood's doing better than you?

Draco swallowed hard. Yes. But it's not my fau-

Smack. Draco turned his head away and rubbed his sore cheek as he felt Lucius's angry glare.

Don't finish that sentence, you piece of filth. It most definitely is your fault for being lazy. I have told you for the last six years that I will not settle for second best, and yet that's all you are. It's despicable that a mudblood is doing better than a pureblooded wizard - especially a Malfoy - in anything, particularly in intelligence.

I know, Father, Draco said, restraining his temper, although he was sure his eyes were blazing with fury.

And what about Quidditch? Potter still beating you at that too?

Draco nodded meekly as he received another blow to the face. This one cut his lip. As he wiped the blood away, he looked up at his father.

But I reckon, given time, he'll eventually mess up in Quidditch too, he commented casually.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. What do you mean by that? Too? he asked, curiosity evident by fact that he didn't strike Draco.

Draco shrugged. Well, I noticed he's a lot paler and quiet. He's lost a lot of that stupid Gryffindor bravery and boldness. He zones out a lot, especially in Potions. Professor Snape has a field day tormenting the git, he smirked.

Lucius nodded, processing the information. Really? That's...interesting. Did you notice anything else?

Draco thought for a moment. Well, I've heard his grades are quite poor, even with the mudblood's assistance, he lied easily. He actually felt bad calling Hermione a mudblood, but he had to successfully play his father for a fool.

The edges of the elder blond's mouth curled into a cruel smile. Why, that's perfect, he murmured. The Lord will be pleased to hear that the boy isn't handling the events of last year well. Not at all.

Draco nodded, expecting some kind appreciative remark. Yet again he overestimated his father.

Well, I shall be sure to inform the Dark Lord of this news. Did you overhear anything more about these meetings you mentioned?

Draco shook his head. Not recently.

Lucius rolled his eyes and stared into the fire. Lot of good you are.

Draco glared at the fire also, in silent fuming. He had to concentrate to restrain himself. Funny; he had never been barely able to contain his anger before. He had always succeeded at being the personification of ice. Until now. He inhaled deeply to calm himself and drilled into his head that his father's insults and abuse would not bother him.

Lucius turned his head to watch his son. He did not like this unusual display of rash behavior, and especially did not like the accusatory attitude he exhibited in previous moments. Damn Narcissa. He was too attached to her. Something would have to be done about that.

I really do not appreciate your attitude and behavior, Draco. How dare you look at me in the way you did before? I am your father; you do not treat me in that manner, he berated, glaring at Draco coldly.

Draco glanced at him, blue eyes somewhat mocking. I apologized already, Father.

With that, Lucius stood abruptly and grabbed the younger Malfoy by the collar. Who the hell do you think you are? Don't you dare use that tone with me you stupid son of a bitch! A punch to the jaw. I will repeat: I am your father, and you are to treat me with the utmost respect. You do as I say, and as I want, do you hear me?? he reprimanded cruelly with a kick in the shin.

Draco gasped in pain. I'm sorry.

You should and better be. This attitude better disappear as quickly as it came, bitch, the older man hissed.

It- it will! I w-won't be disrespectful a-again, Draco spluttered as stars danced around his head.

Lucius Malfoy spat, sending his son to the floor with an angry fist to the stomach. Now go to your room, I am going to go out soon. He glared at his son in disgust. I mean it about the attitude, Draco. It better be gone as soon as possible, or Thursday will not be pleasant for you.

Standing up shakily and clutching his stomach, Draco asked weakly. What's Thursday?

The Lord wants to resume the magnificent raids of the past, starting in Potter's town of Surrey. I believe his little mudblood lives there, Lucius responded, an evil smile forming on his lips. You will be prepared, for you will be joining us. Your Mark will glow for the first time, since you are not currently residing in the school. You know where our robes are, do you not?

His breathing steady, Draco nodded eagerly to hide his shock. They planned to attack Harry's friends, probably in the hopes that he would be further depressed' and weakened. He had to contact the Order, or else Hermione was in great danger. He had also secretly hoped he would never have to embark on a raid and mercilessly murder innocent people. And he heard that the glow of the Dark Mark burned pure torture into the arm until one answered to Voldemort's call.

Lucius stated. His eyes narrowed.

You better not disappoint me, Draco. There will be no refusals; you are to do what the Dark Lord orders. You are already enough of a failure - do not blunder this either. I can assure you, he said in a low voice, that if your performance is not satisfactory to the Lord, he will torture you.

Draco bit his lip to keep from making any sarcastic retorts and nodded to show his comprehension. His father guided him toward the door and opened it. However, before shoving him into the corridor, he leaned in to Draco's ear, and hissed,

Stop trying to protect her, Draco. She will be your downfall. Mark my words. She will be your downfall.

It's a good thing Lucius shoved him to the ground and slammed the door, or else his face would have met with Draco's fist.

Draco glared menacingly at the door for a few minutes, repressing all desires of just blasting the damn thing open and ruthlessly strangling the evil man behind it. Shaking his head, he turned and marched angrily down the corridor, his shin aching, and ascended the grand staircase. However, at the sound of the study door being opened, he paused on the landing and listened.

I am going out for a few hours. I want the fire in my chamber lit as soon as I enter the manor, he commanded coldly.

Yes, sir, Kimbo will do's that, sir.

Lucius declared as he buttoned his silk cloak. Because I will probably not be coherent enough to order you then, he muttered under his breath, smirking.

Above him, an identical smirk graced his son's face.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Draco raced down corridors and turned down many different halls until he entered his wing of the manor. His father was out, so there would be no problem contacting the Order. Before he could complete his duty, the same house elf from before stopped him.

Young Master Malfoy! it squeaked, trying to keep up with his long gait. Draco turned and glared at the creature in irritation.

he snapped.

The little elf trembled, but stood her ground. Mistress tolds Mizzy to tell Young Master to visit her when he had a chance, sir.

Draco sighed, remembering his mother. Fine, thank you, he muttered and changed his direction. He figured he had several hours anyway. He quickly performed a spell to heal his bloody lip so his mother wouldn't have to see it.

Entering his mother's study, he found her stitching a very delicate fabric. He smiled when she glanced up at him, but she only frowned.

Uh, hi Mum, he greeted uncertainly.

Where is your father? she asked, her tone firm and business-like.

He went out, Draco answered dryly.

Narcissa nodded and gently placed her needlework on the table next to her and then folded her hands in her lap.

she started, looking at him with stern blue eyes, your behavior before was unnecessary. Actually, it was downright dangerous! He could have gotten suspicious or angry. Either way, his reaction would have been awful. He might have hurt one or both of us. You could get discovered, she scolded in a hushed voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. I know, Mum. I realized afterwards that my behavior was too aggressive, so I calmed down. Relax, I won't get caught, okay?

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. Well, you can never be too careful, she sniffed. She shook her head. I don't know about this whole thing anymore, Draco. It makes me too worried, maybe it would have been safer to -

Mum, it was the only way, Draco interrupted with an edge of irritation. You heard Professor Snape yourself - there were no other options.

Narcissa still looked doubtful. Yes, but still, perhaps -

No, Mum, no. There was no other course of action to take. This was it, Draco declared. He walked over to his mother's seat and clasped her hands with his.

Mum, I swear I'm fine. Yes, this is highly dangerous, but it was a risk we both knew and accepted anyway. I also promised to get myself out of any situations that threatened my life, Draco reminded her. A small fact that nobody seems to believe, he muttered.

Harry's words echoed in his head, but he shook them away. So what if his gauge of danger wasn't up to par with the Order's? He wasn't going to run crying because his father hit him, but he had enough sense to leave if someone pointed a wand at him and started to say

Oh, and who would nobody' be? his mother asked curiously.

Draco released her hands and threw his own in the air in exasperation. Oh, just everybody. The whole damn group finds it necessary to remind me forty-two times during the meetings I attend, he ranted. Especially Tonks. And then even Harry started on me. What, just because I'm a Slytherin, means I won't keep my word?

Narcissa blinked and a small comforting smile graced her face. Glad to get that off of your chest?

Draco crossed his arms. No, because it wasn't on my chest to begin with, he snapped tartly.

Do they just not trust me? he asked his mother.

No, sweetheart, Narcissa answered warmly. They just want what's best for you. They don't want you enduring threats or the like for the sake of the Order. They don't expect that from you.

Draco pursed his lips and focused on the floor. But I've - we've - endured threats and abuse even before I became involved with them. It's nothing new.

Narcissa's smile fell. While that may be true, there's a lot more at stake here. Not only our lives, but the lives of the group themselves, not to mention the rest of the world since protecting both the magical and muggle worlds is their focus.

Draco huffed indignantly, they - you- could give me the benefit of the doubt. I know what I'm doing.

I'm glad you're confident, Draco, but don't become too confident. It's okay to ask for help or admit you can't handle a situation. You don't have to be strong all the time, honey, Narcissa soothed. No one will think you're a failure.

Draco nodded, all traces of anger slowly fading and hints of pensive thinking replacing it. He lifted his head and smiled wistfully. He sighed heavily. Narcissa smiled back at him and motioned for a hug, which Draco returned willingly.

I love you, sweetheart, Narcissa murmured, kissing the side of his head.

Love you too, Mum, Draco replied.

Narcissa smoothed back his hair. Why don't you take some time to unwind and we'll talk about school and everything sometime tomorrow?

The blond nodded. Okay. I am a bit tired.

Draco let go of his mother and walked toward the door. Narcissa resumed her stitching, concentrating on not tearing the fabric.

See you tomorrow, Mum.

Bye, Draco.

Draco casually strolled to his room deep in thought. Between his mother and Harry, everything he had ever been taught was being contradicted. Since he was three, he had been told that Malfoys were the cream of the crop and should act like it. And so that was what he had spent most of his life doing. He pushed his way around, insulted those who were believed to be inferior, and always got what he wanted. He showed no weakness, for Malfoys were strong wizards who did not have faults. They were perfect beings, so they should always be number one. Draco had never successfully passed that section, as he was constantly reminded. And now he was being informed that none of that was true; that he didn't have to think, reason, or operate in the ways that he did.

Don't be too proud to come back here.It's okay to ask for help or admit you can't handle a situation.We both need to realize that always acting strong and independent isn't necessarily a good thing.No one will think you're a failure.

No one will think I'm a failure, because I won't be a failure, he vowed. I refuse to fail. No matter what.


He entered his room and closed the door, locking it. He knelt down by his empty trunk and said the password to open his secret cubby. After it opened, he fluidly pulled out Sirius Black's mirror and climbed onto his bed with the curtains closed.

he whispered. Pausing, he then said, Harry Potter.

The mirror shimmered brilliantly before Draco could see a dimly lit room. Well, actually, he could see a ceiling with frequent small flickers of light that suggested a candle lit room. He could also see a small reflection of himself, so he assumed Harry's mirror was near another mirror. It was most probably on a dresser of some sort.

he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

Receiving no answer, he called again in a louder voice. Hello? Remus?

He heard shuffling in the background and the room tilted as someone lifted the mirror. Instead of Remus, however, Draco saw someone else.

Professor Snape?

The Potions Master rolled his eyes. Yes, Draco, how astute of you. Lupin is experiencing symptoms of his transformation and asked if I would guard the mirror in case he couldn't answer if you called. Are you alone?

Draco nodded. Yes, Professor. My father is out somewhere getting himself drunk off his arse, so there would be no worries even he were here. He wouldn't remember a thing.

Snape glared. Don't ever attempt contacting us in that situation. It's still too risky. Now what do you have to tell me?

I don't know if you already know, but raids are starting again on Thursday.

Snape raised an eyebrow. Raids? No, I didn't know. The Dark Lord doesn't usually tell us ahead of time; he would normally just call us and we would come and do his bidding. Did your father tell you this directly?

Draco answered, carefully choosing his next words, He told me I would be joining you, and that I better be prepared.

Snape nodded, eyebrows furrowed together. That is strange, he murmured. He paused and then inquired, Did you tell him anything about Potter?

Yea, just that he was looking paler, zones out a lot, and that I heard his grades were dropping. He said he would inform the Dark Lord.

Good, that should tide them over for a bit. Do you know where the raids are going to take place?

Surrey my father said.

Snape frowned. Well that's pointless; Potter isn't even there right now.

No, but Hermione is. I think the plan is to attack and kill each of Harry's friends in order to weaken him more. The Dark Lord doesn't want a fair fight; he wants as many advantages as possible.

Well, of course Draco, that makes sense. Anyone would want advantages in a fight that might culminate in his or her death.

True, but don't you - Draco froze as the sound of heavy footsteps approaching his room reached his ears.

Oh shit, he's home!

As the footsteps stopped at his door, he shoved the mirror under his sheets. He trusted Professor Snape intelligent enough to stay silent. His doorknob twisted violently before angry fists began pounding on the door.

Open the bloody door, you damn prat! a drunken voice yelled.

Draco leaped off his bed and reluctantly unlocked the door, knowing that it would be far worse to keep his father locked out.

he gasped. I apologize for locking you out, I thought -

Smack. Shove. Draco tried to break his fall with no luck, and slowly lifted his head to meet his father's unfocused gaze.

Get up, bitch, Lucius slurred.

Draco scrambled to his feet and stood tall in front of his father, cheek still stinging.

Why did you lock me out, Draco? What were you doing?

Draco eyed his father cautiously. I was trying to sleep, but you know the house elves. They come in when they think I want something, when all I want is to be left alone.

Lucius paced the room in front of his son, and continued to speak, ignoring Draco's reply.

I bet you were doing something bad. Something I wasn't supposed to see, huh? Yes, I bet that's what you were doing.

Draco tensed. I already said I had been trying to sleep, Father.

Lucius stopped pacing and stared at Draco. You know what, Draco? I don't think I like this attitude of yours. It's very mocking, and you act better than me. You're not better than me. Never have been, never will. No, never.

Draco knew to just agree with his father, so this confrontation would be over with sooner. Yes, Father.

You know why you'll never be better than me?

Draco stared back and didn't reply.

You want to know why? I'll tell you why. You're too damn attached to your mother. I really don't like that. No, not at all. Something will have to be done, you hear? Something.

Draco's stare turned into a defensive glare. Don't touch her, he spoke in a low, steady voice.

Lucius rolled his eyes and let out a derisive, drunken laugh. See what I mean? Too bloody attached.

He continued laughing. Once the laughter died down, he glanced at his son's stoic stance.

I thought I told you not to order me around. I am your father; you do as I say.

Draco's glare never wavered. Yes, Father.

The elder Malfoy took a step closer. Wipe that glare off your face, you damn son of a bitch. I will not tolerate this attitude along with your other faults.

Draco lowered his eyes to the ground, so as not to provoke the man any more.

YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU! Lucius screamed, violently grabbing Draco's chin and yanking it upwards.

Draco attempted to keep his face emotionless, but his eyes held defiance. This only agitated his father more.

You stupid son of a bitch, he hissed, removing his hand from Draco's chin and backhanding him across the face.

How dare you stand there and mock me, after all I have done for you the past sixteen years.

A punch to the shoulder sent Draco wincing into the dresser that stood directly behind him. He instantly placed a hand there to rub the throbbing pain.

I wasn't mocking you, I swear, I wa-

Another blow, this one administered to his face, left Draco with a bloody fat lip. He lifted his other hand to try and wipe away the coppery blood, but too much was gushing out of his bottom lip.

Don't you DARE talk back to me, you bastard, Lucius ordered furiously. This will end, Draco. This behavior of yours. I will make sure of it.

He kneed Draco in the stomach, which caused the boy's body to bang into the wood behind him, before he turned and stumbled toward the door and slammed it as he exited. Draco clutched his stomach as he slumped to the ground to catch his breath. Once he was able to breathe in somewhat normally, he pulled out his wand and summoned an ice pack. He hoped it hit his father on the way.

His ice pack arrived almost immediately, and Draco limped toward his bed, his back sore from being shoved viciously into the dresser. He opened the curtain and pulled back the sheets to find Professor Snape still staring up at him. This time, however, his black eyes glistened with concern, and disgust.

Bloody hell, he whispered. Are you alright?

I'm fine, Draco assured, summoning a larger ice pack for his shoulder. I'll be okay, really.

Snape eyed him suspiciously. If you are certain.

I am, Draco said shortly.

If he tries anything else, remember, you can get yourself out, Draco.

Professor, I'm fine, Draco insisted. That's normal.

Snape asked, disgusted.

Draco shrugged, a scowl on his face. Welcome to my life, Professor.