Draco took Hermione's last letter from his mokeskin pouch and got up from his bed. He had arrived from Hogwarts the day before and, for the first time in years, only his mother had been at the station. She had almost reached out for him when he had come closer, and that single gesture had made Draco realize how distressed she really was.

Their return home had been quiet, and he had been horrified to discover that his aunt was waiting for them. He knew of her, of course, and knew that she was now out of Azkaban but he hadn't met her during the last holidays because she never left her Master's side. That could only mean one thing.

"The Dark Lord is waiting for you, nephew," she had told him with a maniac smile. "Come, I'll show you the way!"

Draco had ignored the urge to tell her that it was his house and that he should be the one leading her in the intricate labyrinth that was the Manor, but he knew it was futile. With his father in prison and the Dark Lord here, he was just a guest in his own house. Or a prisoner, depending on who you asked.

"In here!" his aunt whispered, excited, before opening the door of the ballroom.

For a fraction of a second, his eyes widened and he took everything in: the throne at the centre of the room, the Dark Lord himself, radiating power and death, sitting on it and petting a snake bigger than any that Draco had ever seen, the Death Eaters patiently watching the show taking place in front of them.

And then it was over, and Draco schooled his features and erected his Occlumency walls before walking at the centre of the room and bowing deeply in front of the monster that was now the new Master of Malfoy Manor.

"Draco," the man hissed, "what a pleasure it issss to finally meet you."

"The honour is all mine, my Lord," he answered politely. "I'm delighted to learn that you have chosen the Malfoy's ancestral home as your place of residence."

"My my… What a good boy you've raised, Narcissa," the Dark Lord smiled, apparently satisfied with his answer. "Well, I say a boy, but in reality, it is a man I see. Tell me, young Draco, how old are you?"

"I turned sixteen a few days ago, my Lord," Draco answered, an awful feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

"It is as I feared, then. Almost an adult, but still in need of guidance to make the right decisions." He paused, smiling in his direction, and Draco immediately knew where the discussion was leading. "Your father is one of my most devoted, most faithful servants, Draco, but also a dear friend of mine. As a consequence, it is my duty to make sure that his only son and Heir isn't alone to face the consequences of his sudden, and wrongful, imprisonment."

This time, both Draco and his mother bowed.

"We thank you for your worry, my Lord," Draco's mother said. "And we are grateful for the help we know you will provide."

Voldemort's smile was that of a satisfied man.

"There is a way, Draco, to make sure that you and your mother are protected from every threat that might come against your family. Are you ready to listen to an old friend, and to make the right decision?"

Draco sighed, the rest of the evening blurring in his mind. His acceptance to take the Mark, knowing very well that the Dark Lord's speech had only been an empty shell, created to give Draco the illusion of a choice. The atrocious pain he had felt when he had been branded, and the horrible feeling of a foreign, malevolent Magic invading the most intimate parts of his mind, body and soul. The awful realization that he had no other option but to accept the mission he was given if he wanted his mother to leave. For a brief moment, he had hoped that he would find the courage to refuse, hidden somewhere deep inside of him. But that moment never came and he had accepted the Dark Lord's order the same way he had accepted every other decision that had been forced upon him: with a respectful nod, and a smile that would have convinced almost anyone with its sincerity.

Tomorrow, he knew, he would begin training under his aunt's supervision and learn everything he needed in order to succeed his mission. He wasn't expected to, of course, but Lord Voldemort wasn't a man to neglect luck, and Draco's attempt might very well turn into a blessing no one had been expecting. Next year would be Hell but, in the meantime, Draco hoped that he would be able to squeeze a few hours of peace between his aunt's lessons and the mountain of homework he had to do.

He took his watch and frowned when he saw the time. He really needed to leave or he would be late, and that was the last thing he wanted when he knew that Hermione's presence was the only thing that could calm him right now. Hermion

Hermione Granger had to refrain herself from bouncing on her chair as she waited for Draco to arrive. They had last seen each other in December last year and it seemed that ages had passed since then. She knew she was lucky to still get letters every week when most boys of their age would have stopped what she considered a silly correspondence with a very average girl, but seeing him in person was always magical and she wished they could meet more often.

They shared a lot on paper, but she thought he might be less secretive if they saw each other regularly. She knew he didn't tell her everything, the mere fact that she hadn't been able to find anything about a family as powerful as the one he described being a major clue. However, she got the feeling that whatever he was hiding was more than just his real identity, that he kept a secret so big that it might alter their relationship forever if she discovered what it was. Of course, him discovering her secret might change things between them as well, but at least the only thing she might lose was his friendship.

No, whatever Draco's secret was, it was dangerous.

"Draco!"

Hermione's bright voice stopped him right in his tracks and Draco turned around, scanning the crowd in search of her.

"Ouch!"

The force of the unexpected impact knocked the air out of his lungs and his stumbled backwards, reaching out to a nearby wall to stay on his feet.

"Sorry," Hermione said sheepishly against his torso. "I guess I should have been more careful, I could have hurt you or someone else. Are you alright?"

"Never better," he told her, smiling as he finally got to see her properly for the first time in months. She hadn't grown a bit since December, but he had found that he liked being able to wrap his arms around her smaller frame.

"You don't look so good," she said after studying his face for a moment. "When was the last time you've eaten properly?"

"Before I took my GCSEs," he told her, careful to edit what he needed to. "Exams are always a stressful time for me, but this year I set up a new record."

She did not seem entirely convinced by the lie but accepted his answer nonetheless, linking their arms together and dragging him away from their meeting place.

"It must have been pretty bad, then, even I did not lose that much weight. Better get you something to eat before you faint, I know the perfect place."

"Alright", he agreed, amused by her bossy attitude. "But it's my turn to pay."

"You'd better, this one is long due."

Twenty minutes later, when they finally reached their destination, Draco paused in front of the small curry place where they had first eaten together and felt a bit of warmth seep into his heart at the sight of it.

"I couldn't agree more."

"FOCUS, NEPHEW!"

Draco ducked just in time to avoid the curse and felt the air next to him explode with Magic, making his hair whip against his face. Groaning, he aimed his wand at his aunt's chest and screamed the worst curse he knew, watching as the spell flew across the room. Bellatrix laughed and conjured a non-verbal shield that stopped the curse before throwing three spells in a row in his direction. Tired from the exercise, Draco wasn't able to conjure more than a weak shield and the last spell struck him square in the face, the force of it causing his knees to buckle. He yelped at the burning sensation and fell forward, unable to put his hands in front of himself fast enough to avoid the floor.

"Useless," his aunt said. "There are dozens of people who would literally kill to be in your place, you realize that don't you?"

"Yes, aunt Bella," Draco answered as he slowly lifted himself up from the ground.

"And yet you can't even conjure a shield. Pathetic, really. Is this really the best you've got? How do you think you'll accomplish your mission if you can't even protect yourself from danger?"

"Do you really think I could do better than this with the teachers Dumbledore had been hiring since I got to Hogwarts?" Draco replied, annoyed. "The best one we had so far only liked Gryffindors and he was a werewolf. I'm lucky I can even conjure a shield, most of my classmates have never done it!"

Bellatrix grimaced, nodding slightly.

"Yes, I can see your point. Still, your father should have made sure that you were prepared, I'll need to have a word with your mother about that. I always knew Lucius was a fool, but this is far worse than anytthing I could have imagined. Now, let's review the basics. I want you to show me every spell on that list in exactly one hour," she said, conjuring a sheet of parchment and scribbling something on it before sending it to him. "Every time you fail to produce one, you will be punished according to the spell you were trying to cast. The list starts with Stinging Hexes and ends with Crucio. Good luck, nephew."

"What do you mean, your father is in prison?"

They had seen each other only four times during the holidays, and each occasion had Hermione worry more and more about his well-being. Draco couldn't blame her, of course, as he saw the same concern in his mother's eyes, but he couldn't tell her what was really going on and why he looked like he was about to faint from exhaustion every time they met. Or at least, he couldn't tell her the entire truth.

"He was arrested at the beginning of the summer," he explained. "I expected it, of course, but it's still hard to take. He isn't a good man and we don't have a lot in common, but he's still my father and I couldn't help but worry about what was going to happen to my family after that."

She looked horrified by his revelation and he wondered for a brief moment what her reaction would have been if he had told her what the Dark Lord expected from him.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I truly am," she said after a couple of minutes, taking his hands in hers and pressing them together. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Don't worry," he told her, smiling at her fondly. "I'll be back to school in less than a week, so I won't have time to think too much about it."

I won't have time to think about you either, he thought, remembering his mission. In fact, he wouldn't have time for her at all. He knew it was probably the worst decision of his life, but he had decided to stop writing to her once he was back at Hogwarts. Being friends with her had been a bad idea from the start but, now that the Dark Lord was back, he knew that he couldn't take the risk for her to be discovered. He was a danger to anyone, now, especially to the people he loved, and he couldn't risk losing her in addition to his mother. Hell, he couldn't imagine what Bellatrix would do to her if she knew Hermione existed. No, it would break her heart, and his as well, but he had no other choice if he wanted her to live.

And maybe, just maybe, he would survive and finally leave the Magical World for good. Were that to happen, he hoped that she would forgive him for letting her down in the worst way possible