What Lies Ahead

Snape locked the door to the main Hall. He removed a clean handkerchief from his cuff and mopped his brow. The deatheaters were gathered in the entrance hall. Snape searched the crowd for Narcissa, but could not find her.

An echoing Scream from within made Snape cradle his head in his hands. Hold on Draco. He whispered, knowing the boy couldn't hear him.

The scream was ear-splitting, and although Draco looked almost like a fully grown man, his mind and his manner still suggested that of an innocent. Snape was fully aware that the Dark Lord was only doing this for revenge. To show Lucius how angry he was that he had failed to get the prophecy and allowed a number of deatheaters, including himself to be caught in the process.

Draco's screams subsided. Snape, knew from experience that it was over and unbolted the doors.

Draco lay twitching on the floor. He looked like he was having some sort of seizure, which would pass in a few minutes, Snape thought. The Dark Lord barely acknowledged him enter, and exited stealthily.

Snape walked over to Draco's body and knelt beside it. He gently grabbed Draco's wrists, and in an effort to stop him shaking uncontrollably, and pinned the boy's arms to his chest.

Draco was gasping for breath with every spasm. "I…can't…breath!" he exhaled between spasms. Snape nodded. He knew the feeling. He had gone through the same ordeal almost 20 years ago. Before Draco was born. Before Potter.

Draco's breathing became steadier, and his heart rate slowed to a normal pace. Snape let go of his wrists, and Draco cradled the arm Voldemort had gripped so tightly.

The Dark Mark had been etched into his skin. It was cold to touch, yet Draco felt as if it was still burning.

"I'm…I'm a deatheater!" He swallowed hard, not knowing what that now meant. He had made a promise to the Dark Lord. A promise of unfailing loyalty. "I…I'm a real deatheater!"

Snape didn't smile, he didn't congratulate. He merely stared, his eyes saddened by the fact that Draco, clearly did not see the responsibility that lay ahead, nor did he see the consequences being a deatheater brought.

With one hand he grabbed Draco's unmarked arm and heaved him to his feet. Draco's breathing returned to normal, and the pain subsided.

"C'mon!" Snape ordered as he walked toward the exit.

Draco obediently followed, like any student would. He was met with a room full of cheers, some forced, but most genuine.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder. Draco turned to see the face of Bellatrix Black. She had the same face as his mother, yet her eyes and hair were dark as night, and her skin had a harshness to it, as if it strained to contain the evil within.

"Draco!" She flashed a huge smile and hugged him, mothering him. She brushed the hair away from his eyes and cupped his face. Her nails were sharp, and painted a blood red, and he felt the tip of her thumb slide close to his eye.

"You have your Father's eyes!" She beamed. She hadn't seen Draco since he was a small boy. He probably wouldn't have remembered her.

"I'm so sorry about what happened at the ministry! I want you to know, despite what the Dark Lord has heard. It wasn't his fault!" She lied through her teeth. Although she blamed Lucius for all the troubles that occurred, she did not hate him, fearing that if she did, she would suffer losing her sister, the only person she ever loved.

" Hello aunt Bella!" Draco smiled weakly, not knowing how to act in front of this woman. She was his aunt, but she was also a murderer, having murdered her own cousin Sirius during the attack on the ministry. He was also quite uneasy being next to her. Despite the fact he was fifteen years old, his aunt seemed to be treating him like he was still five.

"Draco sweetheart!" She had her arm around him now, leading him away from Snape, stroking his hair as she lead him to a nearby door. "I should tell you that your mother said she was sorry she couldn't be here for you. She was…busy…with her health problems and everything!" She nodded encouragingly to him.

"It's okay aunt! You don't have to lie for her." Draco said. Bellatrix was slightly taken aback when he spoke. He sounded just like his father, and, well…grown up. She nodded in response and opened the door to a library.

"He's waiting for you!" She beckoned him to enter. He seemed confused. What could the Dark Lord possibly want with him now.

"Waiting to give you your orders!" Bellatrix raised her eyebrows.

"Oh right!" Draco smiled boyishly, the excitement of being given responsibility had cheered him up considerably. He felt he would be stronger facing the Dark Lord a second time, and followed his aunt into the Library.

The dark figure of Voldemort was silhouetted against a roaring fire. He was throwing books into it, first inspecting the words on the cover and then deciding on whether they were worth keeping.

"Leave us!" A low but quiet voice ordered Bellatrix out of the room. She did so, closing the door gently behind her.

Draco stood to attention. His arms behind his back, his head held high. It was the way Lucius stood when he was with other pure-blood relations. Respectfully giving them eye contact, and taking care with his words.

Voldemort turned away from the fire, and without making a sound, floated to an armchair nearby. A large python lay sleeping at his feet, and stirred only when he spoke.

"Take a seat." His long fingers waved toward a chair nearby. Draco walked over to it and sat down, not taking his eyes from the Dark Lords.

"You remember the snake? The test?" Voldemort asked.

"I do sir." Draco nodded.

"You showed great courage, using the killing curse. Had your father told you about the silence spell on your home?" Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"He had not. Sir." Draco uttered. Voldemort was looking at him in a mix of curiosity and puzzlement. "I think maybe he didn't want me abusing my magic in the house." Draco smirked. Voldemort simply nodded.

"That is…surprising indeed. What made you brave to use such a curse? Only Aurors are granted the power to use Unforgiveables, and even then they should not use them lightly. The consequences of a non-auror, and a boy your age would have been severe."

"It was the Snake's life or mine. It was the strongest, deadliest spell I could think of. The house-elves had told me that their magic was ineffective and I had no idea I was capable of such a spell." Draco answered.

"You will find, in moments like that, when it is your life, or another's, that you are capable of a great many things. Even killing." The dark lord smiled. "Which brings me to your assignment."

Draco's heart breathed fast. He wanted to please the Dark Lord, please his father, and mother, please Snape. He wanted praise.

"I understand that you are returning to Hogwarts this September. You will have to plan your timing carefully. I have no doubt that many of your 'acquaintances'will have suspected you are a deatheater, or are at least, suspect you are about to become one. You will have to be discreet with whom you decide to share this mark with." Voldemort pointed one long clawed finger, toward Draco's arm.

"The son's of Crabbe and Goyle, I guess, are not the brightest Slytherin's in the world. However, seeing as they are in similar situations to you, I suggest that you use their brawn if needed. If you are indeed your Father's son, you will be able to construct a plan to your liking."

Draco was ecstatic. His fingers clenched the leather upholstery pf the armchair. His heart pounded against his ribs and he was desperate to now his mission.

"What is it you wish of me master?" He bowed his head.

"I want you to kill…" Voldemort smiled.

"…Harry Potter! Of course Sir! I am honoured Sir!" Draco smiled to himself. That would be a mission he would take pleasure in.

"…Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort sneered. Revelling in Draco's face, as it switched from childish glee, to wide-eyed fear.

Draco almost slipped off his chair in alarm. Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore! The only man that could match the Dark Lord in battle, the only men he apparently feared, the headmaster of hogwarts.

"I…I…" Draco was at a loss for words. He looked down at his feet. Not knowing what to say.

"Will accept this task with loyalty and obedience!" Voldemort snapped. "You will not fail me, as your father did. The penalty would be most severe on your family!" The Dark Lord sneered as he said the word Family.

Draco lifted his head, as the thoughts of deatheater's swarming his house, murdering those most precious to him, his mother and his father. If Voldemort had his mind set, he would storm Azkaban himself, to finish off Lucius Malfoy.

He pleaded with his eyes and tried not to cry.

"You will do it. You can do it!" Voldemort whispered. He stood up and took steps toward the terrified boy. "Dumbledore has grown comfortable with you, he may not trust you, but he lives in the absurd belief that in Hogwarts, nobody can touch him!" He spoke softly again, calming his anger. As much as he would have enjoyed seeing the boy a blubbering wreck, he had to make the child believe he could be capable of such a task.

"What about Snape? Dumbledore trusts Snape with his life, is by his side everywhere, anywhere! He could do it!" Draco pleaded.

"Snape? SNAPE?" Voldemort roared and slapped a clawed hand across Draco's face. Draco let out a stifled cry as he was hit. He had been beaten as a child, but this was different. Now the beater was someone who could kill, would kill if he so wished it. "Snape is a puppet! He has infiltrated the Order of the Phoenix! He has infiltrated Hogwarts, knows their inner circles and deepest secrets! If he were to murder Albus, then all his work would be useless. The ministry would know where his true allegiance stands! I am asking you!" The clawed finger stretched toward Draco, who clutched the soreness of his cheek with one hand, and pulled himself back onto the leather armchair of the other.

"I will do what you ask." Draco sniffed. "I will kill him for you…just…just!"

"What!" Voldemort snapped.

"Please don't hurt my family!" Draco begged.

With a flick of his fingers the door burst open, Voldemort sat back down in his armchair. Fenrir Greyback appeared at the door, followed close behind by Snape.

"You may go." Voldemort spoke to Draco, as if they had been having a quiet conversation. As of the whole incident had been erased from his mind.

Draco weakly lifted himself up off the chair, his arms shaking with the effort. He stared blankly into space as he walked with speed, out of the room, his face visibly paler than usual, and ran, past the herd of deatheaters in the marbled entrance hall, out of the main doors, away from people, away from everything. He collapsed by the statue of his grandfather. Holding himself up against its base, he let out a wail of sobs.

"Why ME?" he screamed at the statue. "WHAT HAVE I DONE!"

He stared at the statue, hoping that the figure resembling his father would awaken, tell him that everything was okay, that it was just a dream, he was safe now. Instead the statues eyes remained closed. Draco was gasping from the screaming fit, he placed his palm on the statue in the same manner Snape had done earlier. Nothing.

He slammed his palms against it again. Still nothing. "I want to go HOME!" He snarled in frustration. He slid down the marble base, so that he was seated in front of it, his back leaning against the cold stone. He welcomed the cold. His skin was still burning from the Dark Mark on his arm and the frosty wind helped calm his rage.

It was some time before he saw a figure approaching. The billowing robes of Severus Snape were instantly recognisable from a fair distance. "Draco? Are you there?" came his potions Master's steely voice. He had stopped about 50 feet away.

Draco had forgotten he was not wearing many clothes. The pale white skin from his torso, and blonde hair, were camouflaging him against the marbled stone base.

"I'm here Sir." Draco heaved himself up to his feet, and waved at Snape, who was scanning the gardens of Woodsmanor for signs of life.

Snape spotted him and made his way over to the statue. "You should go home now. They are leaving."

Draco looked at the statue, its eyes still firmly closed. "I was trying to." Draco shrugged.

Snape also looked up at it. "Looks uncannily like him doesn't it?" Snape smiled. Draco merely nodded.

"Every deatheater has their own special Portkey for Woodsmanor. They are designed to only to work for members of the same family. Anyone with a Malfoy bloodline can open this! Since apparating has been legalised though, not many of us use them." Snape nodded toward it.

"Then...how come you can?" Draco asked, clearly confused. "...and how come it wouldn't work for me just now?"

"Because today I am what we call an 'escort'. As long one of the two travelling is a Malfoy, I am permitted to open it. You place your marked arm on the statue and repeatthe password in your mind. An escorts password, is... unsurprisingly...Escort!" he said leaning against it.

"What is my password?" Draco looked at it, fascinated that such a portkey was hidden so well from the ministry.

"Whatever you want it to be..." Snape smiled. "Every Malfoy has their own personal password. You havn't chosen one yet."

Without hesitation Draco swiftly placed his right palm on the base. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Lucius.