Well here it is. Sorry its taken so long! You all requested another chapter. Please R and R. Its super encouraging for me as a writer. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Two

News traveled fast about Draco's mishap in the DADA class. Rumours about Draco's fear and his 'attack' on Harry flew through the halls as the students walked to class Wednesday morning. "It's probably something stupid…" "Maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back and Malfoy is still working for him. That's why he hurt Harry…" "Dude it's a hippogriff…" "Why did Malfoy…?"

Three days later, and people were still gossiping about what the ex-death eater had to fear and his association with the Dark Lord. Draco sighed in exasperation. This was why his father always told him to keep his emotions in check. Another sigh escaped Draco. One mistake and he was the center of attention. And for once, he didn't want to be the center of attention.

He looked down at the letter from Professor Bridge in his hand and made his way toward the Defence Against Dark Arts classroom. He had received a letter the from the professor the night before to meet him in the DADA classroom before class so "they could discuss the circumstances of Monday's class."

As Draco passed through the students heading to their own separate classes, the whispers and stares only increased but, as much as he wanted to hide, Draco held his head up, did his best to ignore them, and strode through the halls like normally, albeit a little faster than normal.

Draco quietly entered Professor Bridge's classroom and walked to the far wall to wait, leaning gently against a window. He was alone, the only other thing in the room being the wardrobe that had held the boggart.

He stared blankly out the window at the glittering lake, barely noticing the sunny weather as he contemplated his situation. He knew what was coming, it was inevitable but he still felt unprepared. Professor Bridge had told him what was coming so why was he still scared? It was just some silly little assignment.

When he was done, he could forget about the whole boggart thing - that's what they promised. The Professor would then ask him about what happened in the class and if he needed therapy, or some crap like that. But why would they care about Draco Malfoy? After all they had asked him to do this assignment? Draco frowned as the answer came to him. They didn't care.

He was a criminal and they need to watch him. He was a vulnerability to Hogwarts. A danger to the students. They didn't care about him, they cared about the students.

But what confused Draco even more was that he was saddened by the revelation. Draco had long prided himself as being able to dismiss feelings and ignore anything he did not wish to feel. But for some reason he felt alone and sad and he could not shake the feeling of abandonment.

Draco banged his head against the wall. He knew it was time to stop thinking when his thoughts started getting depressing, which seemed to be happening more often than usual lately. Groaning at the amount of time the professor was making him wait; he walked slowly to stand in front of the wardrobe. The source of all his misery in the past three days. It looked harmless enough with beautiful carvings covering the outside. But Draco knew many things looked nice on the outside but, like this wardrobe, held darkness, fear, and evil on the inside.

Draco glanced at the clock and groaned again. Ten minutes until the other students would arrive. As much as Draco wanted them to see him getting reprimanded by the teacher… well… he didn't. As Draco turned to walk back to the window he heard a click from the wardrobe. Then the creaking of the double doors slowly opening echoed around the room.

Draco's heart beat faster.

He turned around slowly to gaze with dread upon the now empty wardrobe.

His heart rate increased.

He turned as fast as he could to exit the classroom but froze when a voice Draco wished to never to hear again spoke from the shadows.

"Young Mr. Malfoy. Pleasure seeing you again."

Draco didn't move. Some small part of him hoped that if he didn't move, the boggart might give up.

"What? No hello? Didn't your father teach you better? You seemed welcoming enough when I gave you your Dark Mark."

Draco stiffened but didn't move.

"Come, Draco; turn around so I can look at you."

Draco didn't want to turn around. Above all he wished to run far away from the room. However, when that despicable voice spoke, he obeyed. With his mind screaming at him to stay still or run, he slowly turned to face his fear. Unfortunately for Draco, the boggart did not disappoint.

There the Dark Lord stood in all his glory. His pitch black robes flowed out around him like they always did. The smile that played across the Dark Lords face sent a chill through Draco and his dark eyes pierced through Draco's soul. His wand was held loosely in his long, pale hands but screams of pain seemed to emanate out of the wand, filling the room and Draco's head with memories of death and torture.

"You're dead."

Draco's whisper echoed around the room. Surprisingly Voldemort agreed.

"Yes. I am dead. But it's amazing how much power I still have over cowards like you."

Voldemort took a menacing step forward and Draco's wand clattered to the floor as he hurriedly took a step backwards.

"Now, now Draco. Come here."

"No." Draco whispered as he took a step backwards. Voldemort laughed a cold, chilling laugh before raising his wand and responding to Draco's denial.

"Kneel before your master."

Draco fell to his knees in front of Voldemort, cursing his body for its betrayal and his mind for its weakness. Here he was; the one place he wished he would never be again. Wand less and scared, kneeling at the feet of the Dark Lord in an empty room.

And that's where the Golden Trio found him.

Harry and Ron had complained the whole way to DADA. Why Hermione would want to go early was beyond them but they went anyway. As they entered the DADA classroom they froze. There, standing in the middle of the room, was Voldemort. Looking very alive. And there kneeling before Voldemort, looking divided, was Draco Malfoy.

Draco heard the door to the classroom open, but did not look. It didn't matter who came through that door because they wouldn't help him. No one ever did. A small part of him wished that some one would care, and when he was younger, he might have acted upon that desire. Maybe he would have attempted to make friends or something dumb like that. How things change. Now he was used to the part of him that dreamt of something better being squashed by reality.

Draco was drawn out of his thoughts as a hand was placed on his shoulder. He visibly shuddered at the touch but the hand didn't move. Instead Voldemort, seemingly oblivious to the recent intruders, spoke to the young man shivering beneath his touch.

"Do you want to know a secret about yourself Draco?"

Silence reigned in the room.

"Of course you do. Everyone always does."

Draco muttered a denial that was barely heard.

"What was that Draco? You don't want to know? Well I will tell you anyways." Voldemort bent low to a cringing Draco and whispered,

"I am not your greatest fear."

Murmurs travelled around the room and Draco looked up to realise that more students had arrived for class and were viewing the interaction with great interest.

However Draco was preoccupied with the tall figure that had stood up and was now smirking down at him. With ample reason, Draco felt like a mouse being played with before being eaten, but he responded none the less, curiosity getting the best of him. Quietly, Draco asked, "How? How are you not my greatest fear? I can't even stand in your presence?"

Voldemort laughed. "Yes I know. You are greatly afraid of me but what you are truly afraid is not a physical being. Would you like to know what you fear the most Draco?"

Draco shook his head, denying any want to know his fear, but Voldemort pressed his wand into the side of Draco's neck and whispered, "I would choose your answer carefully if I were you." Voldemort raised his voice for everyone to hear. "I want everyone in this room to know what the high and mighty Draco Malfoy fears the most." He looked down on the distressed teenager. "So what's your answer Mr. Malfoy?"

A moment of silence fell across the room before Draco hung his head in defeat and whispered a small "Yes."

Voldemort smiled cruelly and removed his wand from Draco's neck.

"Your greatest fear is that you will never be enough."

Looks of confusion and annoyance were passed around the room. Many thought the same thing, that's it? Even Draco was confused.

Voldemort ignored the other students and focused on Draco.

"Anti-climactic I know. It's a pitiful fear for a pitiful boy. But it makes sense. Your own family has been disappointed in you since you were a child."

All the noise in the room stopped and Draco slowly stood up, speaking in a firm voice.

"I was not a disappointment to my family."

"Really?" Voldemort responded, "The bruises you got say otherwise."

Draco immediately stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. Don't you remember the first time your father hit you."

Silence. No one dared breathe.

"Wasn't it first year? You came home for the summer and told him that you were the best in your class. Unfortunately that wasn't quite true, was it?"

"Shut up." Draco hissed through clenched teeth.

Voldemort ignored him. "When your report card came, you found out that you were the second best in your year. That made your father angry. But not as angry as he was when he found out that you were beaten by a mudblood. The mighty pureblood, son of the richest family in almost all of England, was worse at magic than a muggleborn."

Draco's hands clenched at his sides.

"And you remembered that beating for years. The bruises and bones were just healing when you came back to school in the fall, and every time you looked at Hermione Granger, you could feel the pain. After that you followed your father's every word. Everything he ever taught you, you didn't dare disobey. You tried for years to please him. You became friends with the people he told you to, you disgraced Potter as much as you could, but you were never enough."

Draco felt like he had been punched. Every word made him feel like he was slowly dying inside.

"He hated you then and he hates you now. Nothing you do will ever change that. Do you know why? Because you are a disgrace to human kind. You tried to please your family, failed." Voldemort's voice was rising. "You tried pleasing Severus Snape, and failed. Eventually you tried to please Dumbledore, but he died because of you." He laughed."You even tried to please me. You weren't even enough for a murderer and I want you to remember that."

Voldemort turned to Draco who was standing with his eyes closed shaking and reached out and grabbed Draco's right arm.

"You are marked on your left arm as a reminder to yourself and other people that you serve me. Now you will be marked on your right as a reminder of who you are."

With those last words Voldemort incanted a spell and dragged his wand across Draco's right forearm. Draco bit back a cry of pain as a word was drawn across his arm. Draco looked down in shock at his arm as Voldemort stood back and smirked at the broken boy in front of him. Draco continued to stare at his marred skin, silent tears running down his face. He barely noticed the look of irritation that passed Voldemort's face as he promptly turned into a giant snake. Or the strong voice that called out Ridiculous and vanished the boggart.

Professor Bridge was left standing in the middle of the room with Draco Malfoy as the other students watched from the perimeter. Draco seemed to wake as he lifted his tear stained face to look at the students around him. Professor Bridge stepped forward cautiously, "Draco, are you alright?"

Draco scoffed and laughed dryly, "Yeah, I'm fantastic. You're welcome by the way."

Draco turned to look at the horrified students before walking slowly out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the silent room and out through the corridor before fading into the distance. The noise increased as everyone talked about what had just transcribed but as they turned to leave, assuming that class would be dismissed, Professor Bridge stopped them with a question.

"Why did nobody help him?"

Everyone froze. Why didn't they help him? He was obviously in distress.

A student mumbled an answer that was barely caught by the professor.

"What did you say?"

"I said, maybe cause he deserved it." The student said from the crowd.

"And you all think this?"

The disappointed look on the Professors face made them all look down in shame.

"Then I am sorry to tell you, you have all failed this course."

Shouts of outrage from students rang through the classroom.

Hermione spoke out from amongst the students. "But how? Why? Some of us need this credit to get the jobs we want."

"This was a test," the professor explained. "kind of like a pop quiz. I asked Draco to face his boggart as a test to the students. If you stepped in to help him face his fears, he would stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the year to actually enjoy his time before…. Well… Azkaban."

Shocked murmurs exploded through the room.

"But if you didn't, he said he was going to leave and turn himself in immediately. He made the point that no one cared about him here and that this would just prove it. I am sad to say that he was right. And because you all refused to help a student who was obviously in need, you have all failed this course. From now on, this will be a free period. Good day, students."With that Professor Bridge turned to stride out of the classroom.

Hermione stopped him by the door, "Professor, what was that word the boggart cut onto Malfoy?"

Professor Bridge looked sadly at Hermione as she subconsciously placed a hand over her own scar.

"The word was 'Worthless'."

And done! Thanks for reading!