Choices

By Daniele Marx

A/N: Waited a LONG TIME for this one. . . I apologize and hope you'll accept this chapter as atonement.

This story, so everyone knows, occurred in place of fifth year because I lost all hope for him to reconcile after I read that tragedy, which explains why I've not updated it with much success. Oh, and William is Draco's brother and not a wimp in this story.

What chapter am I on?

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Draco was flinging clothing all over the floor of his section of the dorm, and even took over Crabbe and Goyle's side as well. His search to find the blasted thing that was making so much racket. It was a siren sound, almost like the sonorous charm, but it was hidden somewhere in the trunk under his bed. Unfortunately he'd put a charm on the trunk at the beginning of the year so it was practically bottomless. Perfect for losing something, though. He didn't even know he lost something let alone remember what it was. Which of his things, which devices, let out a shrill sound when misplaced?

None. That was the problem.

That blasted thing was making too much noise, it was going to draw too much attention. He didn't know Rememberalls made noise at all. Longbottom's never went off like this, just puffed stupid smoke. Stupid, stupid ball.

His search had driven two of his roommates out of the dorm, two of which were a little more than nervous because of his antics the past few weeks. Crabbe and Goyle were hanging around him less, and his defenses were down because he'd been spending so much time in the library. It was unbecoming of Lucius Malfoy's son to be spending time in the library, unless he was studying dark spells of some sort. His brother would've told him to stop being so obviously disturbed and to just do what he wanted.

It wasn't that easy because of his father and mother. William was his brother, the black sheep--why should he listen to the disgrace of the line? Why did William Malfoy, the elder sibling, have to come back to change his mind? Why was it so easy to change? He was a Malfoy, damn it all! This wasn't what he was supposed to do!

The screech got louder and he reached down for a shirt to reveal a glowing red ball. A rememberall? Impossible. They didn't make noises, just glowed. Why would his rememberall be going off? Since when did he have one? So many questions went through his head that he couldn't think straight. Raising his wand to the object, he tried to shatter it with a simple hex.

It was adamant about staying together. Damn. Draco followed through with a pitch and it connected with the wall. The squealing ended abruptly. Obviously Neville's ball had somehow gotten into his things, even though it made no sense. He wasn't sure what he wanted. That was his problem. He thirsted for the life William had given him; it was a sick and twisted life but he still wanted it. Was it because he couldn't have it even if he desired it? And no one had a clue about his brother--he hardly remembered his sibling.

No one could know. Not even his parents were allowed to know about the visit. Surely his father would try to pry the information he wasn't allowed to give, and Voldemort came first right now. Usually Lucius supported one person, himself, but when a bigger fish came along he was drawn to the power.

Draco snorted at the image of his father bowing down before someone. Disgusting now that he thought about it, and William was beginning to make sense. He tried to clear his mind to focus on whatever he was forgetting. Homework, spells, friends, You-Know-Who, nothing was ringing a bell. If it hadn't been for his brother he'd be able to sleep at night and hate Potter freely instead of talking to his mudblood friends. He had to spill to Granger of all people, a mudblood! Draco wasn't happy at all with this notion, and he slammed his trunk shut on his fingers.

"Bollocks," he cried. His hand flexing to dim the pain, Draco walked to his bed and grabbed his wand. He never left his sleeping area without it these days, what with the Dark Lord risen and what have you. His father was going to take him to become a Deatheater as soon as the first break came along--Hogsmeade where he'd disappear for a while before being disapparated to the graveyard.

The Rememberall buzzed to life as though it had just woken up from a sleep. Draco jumped and dove for the object. How dare it interrupt his thoughts.

William. Draco still sneered a bit from the things Lucius had ground into his head. Unfortunately family influence had a large impact on his life. William told him to see him before the Hogsmeade trip--through the floo network. He'd talk to him through the fire in the dormitory after hours the night after next according to the owl he'd received the morning of. Granger had seen his face when his eyes skimmed the second paper he hadn't allowed his friends to glance upon. That was beginning to draw suspicion by the galleons. William didn't want to draw attention to his presence despite the fact that he didn't exist technically.

Draco envied him for running, which was something he'd never been proud of in the past. The Rememberall flashed in his hand, which he didn't notice at first. Envy for hiding from their father and having a free life. . . He took a minute to reminisce about this idea, freedom from family. Don't get him wrong, he loved his mother and father, but they were loyal supporters at this point, scared of disobeying the Dark Lord. He wasn't afraid of the notion of running, was he? Nobody talked about William. Would it be the same in this case? Or would his family suffer for the treachery?

William ran, RAN and no one followed him.

The Remberall, it was silent. He rolled it in his hands and clutched it close to his heart, something he'd spent so much time denying. Why did it take so long to recall? Was he that much of a pawn that he couldn't see the truth. Always following someone else to give his life meaning, trying to justify his actions as someone else's ideas. Why not be his own wizard at this point? Slytherins were not allowed to show traits outside of his house. Devious and a Slytherin? That wasn't wholly uncommon. Technically he wasn't changing his house rules, but this was above house rules. This was outside of the bubble charm.

Draco put the warm orb down and reached for his night cloak, the crushed velvet material soft against his fingertips as he believed it to be his last night as an innocent bystander with no responsibilities. He needed to branch off and be a man about this. As soon as he went this route he couldn't turn back.

He had to prepare for a meeting.

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Much later, in the Slytherin Common Room. . .

He was stoking the fire and walking back to his pile of homework. One foot of parchment--Professor Snape always cut his assignments short after the students left. He was, after all, the most favored among the greasy-haired teachers. Being cool about his reasons to stay up after hours was his specialty, so perhaps he was meant to be this way in the beginning. It was too easy to deceive his colleagues, but he was sure there had to be smarter wizards out there who weren't part of the Ministry.

A few minutes and several glares later, Draco was alone in the Common Room with only a crackling fire to comfort him. He had some tricks still up his sleeve despite being a total shut in and disgrace to the Malfoy name. With his stomach in knots, he was easily startled when he was sure voices were calling to him. It was early even for him and he'd look dreadful in the morning, but he walked to the fire where he'd heard the noise. It was obviously the message he'd been waiting for, and waited for his brother to speak.

"Draco," it whispered again. William's face appeared in the fire and Draco acknowledged him. The embers from the fire landed on his hand which he shooed away with little fear of being burned. There were more important things.

"William. What's so urgent you kept me up this long?" William smirked.

"You little brat, you can't stay out of trouble. Word is you've been acting strange lately and turning heads. Make your mind up soon or people will start to make assumptions of what you're doing."

"Too late for that. I'm not torn up about it."

"You'd better be otherwise you'll have to deal with Lucius. He didn't find my change humorous at any rate. Searched for years for me, at mother's pleading. Don't be an idiot about the initiation. Drawbacks to being yourself is a high cost. You willing to make the sacrifice?" Draco thought about his envy, how he wanted freedom more than anything. A spike of fear went through him and he was set off of his envy. He wanted it but suddenly didn't want to be free if it meant leaving everything he knew.

William noted this. "He's only powerful if you turn to him for strength. But if you're not in charge of what you want and like it that way, fine by me. Do the pleasure of kissing his robes before the scarred kid destroys him. I know a losing battle when I see one."

"What do you mean? I don't see Potter winning."

"There are factors to take into consideration," Draco waited for him to continue. William wasn't happy having to spell it out for him. It was something he had to do with the slayer several times. "like the prophecy. Have you heard it?"

"No."

"Did you ever wonder why Voldemort--" Draco winced but William continued, "went after the Potter kid in the first place? And why he won't stop until he's destroyed the boy?" Draco drew a blank. He hadn't thought about it, to tell the truth. "He's afraid of what Potter can do. He's important and he has the power to destroy the bloody poof. The kid's got heavy rocks." The younger Malfoy didn't want to think about Potter's rocks by any means. How unsettling he might actually blow pieces just thinking about something so grotesque.

"That's why Voldemort is after the kid, because he might succeed where others have failed."

"He isn't that smart, Potter, you give him too much credit. He's an idiot who got lucky." William's smirk returned then. He chuckled and Draco looked around the empty Common Room to check if anybody had come in or heard the noise. Nobody had come down, but he wasn't elated from the idea he could get caught.

"Quiet, fool."

"Potter was tagged early in life by the poof, marked as an equal. I think it's time you fessed up to the reality of it all. If He was really interested in making a child's life nonexistent, he could've chosen a closer subject. Even at the peak of power he couldn't fight off Potter's protection. I think it's high time you owned up to the idea that perhaps being a Deatheater isn't the best career choice with all the commotion going on. Later, kiddo. Think about what I said and when you're ready to venture out, send an owl. We'll meet then."

Then he was gone. Just like that. He wasn't aware of his lack of breathing until now, the way his brain gave in to the pressure. He'd hated Potter since before he'd even met the kid, and now he was starting to think it wasn't that bad of an idea to let the Gryffindor take care of his problem for him. Did he want to go through the life of a Deatheater or did he want what he was sure he wouldn't get?

He scowled. All differences aside, one thing remained despite the fact that he was considering either direction.

A Malfoy always got what he wanted.