Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its' characters, names, or settings.

Chapter 3- The Black Lake

The inky blackness of the sky covered the land like a blanket. The full moon and the stars were very visible, for it was a cloudless night. There were thousands and thousands of stars above, some in large clusters, and many spread out. They lit up the land with a faint and eerie silver glow. The lake below looked like a sea of black, and the moon's reflection rippled against the small waves breaking the still of the vast lake. A pavement trail circled the lake, for people enjoyed taking strolls during the daytime. Wooden benches also sat around the large body of water.

Tonight, as the moon shone down on the land, it also shone down on a blonde head. The blond hair belonged to a very handsome 16-year old boy by the name of Draco Malfoy. His eyes were a gray color that held many dark and mysterious secrets. If one were to look right into the depths of his eyes, they wouldn't be able to help feeling shivers travel up and down their spine. He had fair clear skin and was lean, well built, and fit. Soft strands of his blond hair fell over his forehead, giving him a more mysterious look. He had a soft, serene expression on his face as he looked out into the wide lake, but his gray eyes were dark and sad.

He was there for one reason, and only one reason. That reason was to get away from all the pain that he suffered in the large manor house that sat in the far distance on top of a small hill. The manor was beautifully built from the outside, with its large acres of lawn stretching out around it. Although it was physically beautiful, the happenings inside were far from pretty.

"Why?" Draco quietly asked himself, as he let out a sigh that broke the silence of his surroundings.

He watched the small waves ruin the smoothness of the black lake, and in the far distance, he could hear the cries of crickets as they called out to one another. He shut his eyes, and images started to pass through his mind.

They were happy images of his childhood, before him reaching the age of 13. Memories passed through his mind of him in-between his parents while they strolled hand in hand around the lake; memories of him with a smile plastered on his face and laughter ringing through his ears; memories of him when he used to be happy.

But when he turned 13, everything changed...

His father Lucius began to take monthly trips without returning for long periods of time, and Draco knew it had to do with business for the Dark Lord. When he wasn't going on deatheater gatherings and he happened to be at home, Lucius would lock himself up in his den. Draco's mother Narcissa, never took it well, so she never left her bedroom. This left Draco neglected, alone, and uncared for in the large manor, so he would go to the aid of the house elves if he ever grew hungry.

And now, his father was locked up in Azkaban... and for whom? A half-blood that Lucius and many others happened to worship? It didn't make any sense…

Draco was raised as a muggle-hater and a worshiper of He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named his whole life. But now that his father was locked away, he found himself beginning to think otherwise. Why were the deatheaters and the Dark Lord such hypocrites? They went on and on about how muggles were filth, but yet, here were deatheaters obeying a half-blood's every command. And now that Lucius was locked up in prison, Draco felt confused. He also felt free from all of the pressures he got from his father to follow in his footsteps as the next deatheater in the family.

Narcissa, who now felt thoroughly depressed, took it unto herself in drinking large amounts of alcohol every night. She only tried to ease the pain that she was receiving from her loneliness.

And this was why Draco was here tonight, watching the quiet movements of the black lake in front of him. He had to get away from his mother crying, slurring, and ranting nonsense every time she tried to talk. He knew now... he finally understood... that the pain of being deserted must have turned his mother crazy.

But that wasn't what bothered Draco the most tonight. What bothered him the most was that he felt ashamed, lost and confused.

He felt like this, because he found himself not wanting to follow in his father's footsteps as a deatheater anymore. He understood now that every single thing that he believed in his whole life was wrong. Killing muggles was wrong. Muggles were just as good as pureblooded wizards. He was always taught to be the center of attention or the ringleader of things, but why he would give up his whole life to work as a slave for someone ELSE was beyond him.

But what hurt him the most was the guilt he felt; the guilt of acting like everyone was below him; the guilt of ever calling anyone mudblood or filth. He felt especially horrible for acting like he was so cold and had no feelings for others the whole time that he was at Hogwarts.

A sigh escaped his soft lips as these last thoughts drifted away. He knew he had to change to become a better person. But for now, he saw his future as something that was blank, unclear, and dark... dark as the black lake spread out in front of him tonight.