Lurve
Draco's POV
As dawn was approaching on the first of September, Draco Malfoy was slowly arising from his slumber. He opened his eyes and squinted at the bright sun rise. Running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, he pushed aside the deep forest green sheets and sat up in bed. He stared at himself in the mirror across the room. God, what did he do to me last night?…. Strewn across his toned, pale chest were a number of blue and purple bruises. Something had happened with the Dark Lord last night, and his father became very angry. When his father became angry, he drank. When he drank, he beat his only son.
Draco crossed his large bedroom over to his closet. Opening his closet he realized it was September first, the day he was to return to Hogwarts. He grudgingly tried to find his school robes, wincing as he found more injuries Lucius had inflicted upon. Draco pulled on his school robes and reached for his wand. Looking around he saw that one of the house elves had packed up his trunk for him. It was almost 8:00 A.M. He hoped his father would be passed out, sleeping off a hang over so he could slip out of the mansion unnoticed. He'd simply leave a note saying he had already left and be free from his father's angry fists until Christmas, if then. Hoping for the best he smoothed down his hair and quietly opened up his door.
Draco silently treaded down the lavish hallway and peered into his father's room. The bed appeared as to have never been slept in. This worried Draco because his father could be anywhere in the house, hunting for another go at his human punching bag. Shuddering, he slowly padded down the stairs.
"Hello, Draco," Lucius said. He was sipping a smoking goblet and staring at his son. Draco jumped and clenched his wand in his hand. "I've been waiting for you," He said again, still not taking his eyes off Draco. "I apologize for last night. I had just found out Crabbe was captured. The Dark Lord was very, very angry at Crabbe's capture. Naturally, he took it out on the one closest to him. However, I promised him that you would never be as clumsy as Crabbe when doing deeds for the Dark Lord. Draco, you are to get the Dark Mark once you reach your sixteeth birthday. Then you may begin your work for the Dark Lord. Do you understand?" He drained the liquid in the steaming goblet and set it back down on the dark, marble counter top. Draco tried to take in everything his father had just told him. He was scared, terrified even. If he refused he was sure it would be death, but Draco never had wanted to be a Death Eater, not after seeing everything that happened to them.
"Dad…. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I've never wanted to be one. I'm not going to get the Dark Mark and I'm not following in your footsteps! You aren't going to beat me anymore. I'm… I'm leaving now," Draco said, his voice shaking but his face determined. Lucius's eyes narrowed and his face contorted into a sneer.
"Not join the Dark Side, eh Draco? You don't want to, is that the reason? I have given you everything, the Dark Lord has given you everything. Do you enjoy being a rich man Draco? This is what the Dark Lord provides for his followers. This is what you'll have if you join us." Lucius spread his arms wide around him. " So called 'good' people never make it in this world. If you become one of them you'll never be successful or anything you are used to. You'll be nothing and meet the same sticky end so many others have faced," Lucius sneered, his eyes cold and hateful.
"I'm not joining you, I'm not," Draco said, trying to control his voice. He turned around and rushed up the steps, grabbing his trunk in his room. Going to the fireplace he took a handful of floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" he yelled into the fire, and tossed the powder at his feet. With a flash of green fire he was gone. Lucius stood watching a the crack at the door. "I'll get him on our side, one way or another," Lucius thought, smirking and shutting the door behind him.