Welcome to my first story in a long, long time that wasn't entirely centered on Tumblr roleplaying. That said, I hope I haven't lost the ability to write both sides of a story instead of just the one.

This story is one that popped in my head about two weeks ago that I just keep going back to. I really wanted to write it but was hesitant to start another fanfiction knowing my writing time can sometimes be limited. But - what the hell, right? It's for fun!

Hope you enjoy.

June 6, 1997

Draco Malfoy had never wanted to be a Death Eater. He knew what that life was like - he'd watched his father go from a strong, dignified man to a weak, pathetic excuse of a man who would have thrown his own wife and child to the side for a scrap of power.

He was told soon after his father's failure and resulting imprisonment that he would be expected to take his place. And of course he would - the blond had never thought differently. He'd always paid for his father's mistakes; why would this be any different?

But he hadn't expected to live with the bastards for the whole summer, hadn't expected to be stalked consistently by that terrible half-monster - always breathing down his neck, smelling his hair, moving to grab at his hips and arse. Draco didn't like showing fear - that mutt made it impossible.

Least of all, he had never expected to be given an individual mission, one of such magnitude. One he was never meant to succeed in in the first place - he wasn't stupid, he bloody well knew what this was. They had no faith in him or his prowess, his power, his intelligence. They wanted to set him up to fail so the Dark Lord could kill him and his mother to punish his father for his mistakes.

Sitting in the Great Hall was strange now, somehow unfamiliar and cold, like he was detached from reality. From the reality that was awaiting him. Despite this, as he watched Pansy and Blaise shamelessly flirt, Daphne quietly arguing with Theo over how long their potions essay was meant to be, Vince and Greg stuffing their faces with all they could get their hands on, he couldn't help but smile.

Draco had chosen from the beginning to fail his mission. Yes, he believed in blood purity, he believed that the Wizarding World should not have room for, at the very, very least, anything less than half-bloods.

But he didn't want all the rest of them to die. No, he just didn't want to be around them. He was selfish and arrogant and closed-minded. He wasn't evil. And he wasn't a murderer.

He hadn't had for a moment any false impression that he would accomplish the task, that he would bring Death Eaters - including his insane aunt and Fenrir Greyback, the very center of each of his nightmares - into the castle or that he would murder Albus Dumbledore. He wouldn't do it. A world where Voldemort reigned was not a world he wanted to see.

Unfortunately, in the position he'd been placed in, it seemed like a world where Voldemort was defeated was simply one he wasn't fated to see.

"Draco?"

The blond looked up, taking in the pair of hazel eyes watching his every move. "Yes?"

"You've been… terribly quiet." Pansy said softly. He noticed then that Blaise was watching him closely as well, though the worry that was on Pansy's features was less obvious. Blaise was scrutinizing him, judging his movements, his words. The dark-skinned boy always had known him better than anyone else. "Is everything okay?"

Draco was silent for a beat, silver eyes moving to take in the angle of their arms, the way Blaise's arm was turned upwards, Pansy's palm-down - they were holding hands under the table. That simple fact earned a small smile from him. The two had been dancing around each other for years. Something had happened over the summer where they had finally admitted their feelings for the other. "It will be."

"What does that mean?" It was Blaise this time, the set of his brow giving away his quickly growing anger. Draco hated that, that he had made the other boy angry - he was scared.

Draco had turned 17 the day before. His friends, as means of celebration, had pulled out a smuggled bottle of Fire Whiskey, toasting to their friend. Despite what others may have seen or thought about the group, they simply adored their aristocratic friend. Was he a bit dramatic at times? Yes. Was he often self-absorbed and blind to the things going on around him? Definitely. Was he hyper and seemed to constantly suffer with an attention deficit? Since they'd known him as toddlers.

But what the rest of the students in the room didn't know was how loyal Draco was to them. That he never forgot a single birthday or other important date, that he was the one to plan the celebrations or the memorials. They didn't know that he was the shoulder they cried on, that he was the one they ran to - him and Narcissa. They all had pretty shite families, parents that were less than amazing. Narcissa took them in, took care of them. Draco was like a brother to all of them. He could be obnoxious and there were times he made them want to rip their hair out, but more times than not, they adored him and his stupid jokes and quick wit and how over-sensitive he could be at times.

That's why they were all so worried now. Draco had been quiet ever since returning in September. Quiet and gaunt. He had quit the Quidditch team when there were rumors circulating of him being named captain. Blaise had yelled at him for a solid twenty minutes after that one and Draco had just shrugged - he had other things he needed to focus on. He was constantly disappearing for hours, hardly sleeping, never really eating. They knew what was wrong, but all of them were too terrified to ask. That's not what they wanted for their dearest friend - Lucius Malfoy be damned.

After their toast, Draco having only a couple of sips of the liquor to appease his very drunk friends, he had made his way to Snape's office where his godfather confirmed that, yes, his mother had shown up after the professor had written her concerning Draco's severe burns after a potions accident. Yes, Snape had charmed her unconscious and got her to the Order. She was safe, protected, and thoroughly unhappy.

Draco then went to Gryffindor Tower where, luckily enough a pair of second years were approaching as well. Draco had looked at each other them.

"What's the password?" He hadn't snapped, hadn't been cruel, hadn't demanded. Just asked. And they had spilled it out and hurried away so quickly, a passerby would have thought he'd threatened their lives.

He used to love having that effect on people. It had since lost its spark. Though he supposed so had he.

He had walked into the Gryffindor - enemy territory it had once been deemed - ignored the questions thrown at him, and made his way directly to where the ever-wonderful Golden Trio sat, huddled over something.

Draco made no introductions, no small talk. He walked directly to them and, quietly as he could, told them what had been assigned to him. "I don't plan on doing it. My mother is currently with your lot. She's safe. But you need to be warned that, through the plan or not, Death Eaters will be in this school before after-hours tomorrow. They may just come for me, they may not discriminate. But… Do what you can to protect innocents. The only reason I'm doing what I'm doing."

They had all stared at him in equal amounts shock and worry. Granger's brow had furrowed, shaking her head immediately. She didn't doubt him, not with his expression, not with his tone.

"Draco. Let us take you there too."

"No. They can track me. If they find me, they'll find my mother too. I'm going to destroy the cabinet and then face the consequences. There's nothing else I can do."

They all jumped as there was a sudden burst of confetti from Draco's chest. The blond had forgotten all about the badge Pansy had pinned to his chest, changing to read different cheesy birthday slogans before sending out a small but volatile burst of confetti every so often. The sudden action caused a chuckle to leave Draco's mouth before he put a hand over his own lips as the chuckle grew to a full-blown guffaw, the irony of the timing not lost on him.

The other three were silent however. Weasley's bloody stupid mouth was hanging wide open and Potter didn't seem to know what to say, so he finally rose to his feet, forcing himself to calm, his laughter back down. "Hide Potter too." He addressed Granger. "They'll get him if they can."

He had made to leave, stopping when he heard Potter softly call, "Malfoy." He turned enough to look at the bespeckled brunette. "I… Happy birthday."

Draco had given him a nod before leaving, walking straight to the Room of Requirement and destroying the cabinet in a burst of splintered wood.

And now here he sat, waiting for what would happen.

The day had been entirely too quiet.

"It means that… that everything isn't okay." Draco stated, voice soft, trying not to think that this would be the last time he'd ever see his friends, trying not to think that this was the last time he'd do… much of anything really. "But it will be. With time."

"Malfoy, I'm not playing your stupid games right now." Blaise bit out. Draco could see the fear in his eyes. It was setting in that Draco had done something already and that they were too late to stop him. "What is it? What the hell is going on?"

It was as if they had waited, as if they were prepared for their cue.

The doors to the Great Hall slammed inwards, making such a loud and cacophonous racket that many students screamed out of sheer instinct, backing away from the door.

And sure enough, there stood his deranged aunt, flanked by that monstrous half-wolf and the tall, ghastly figure of a man he'd only ever known as Yaxley.

The professors were on their feet, students scattering and screaming, and yet Draco was suddenly all-too-aware of a set of brilliantly green eyes on him.

"Draco!" He knew his aunt's voice, especially in that morbid sing-song voice she so often pulled out when she was particularly excited for someone's ill-fate. "Come along, my dear! The Dark Lord is positively ecstatic to host our latest blood-traitor!"

Draco rose to his feet, having no intentions of hiding or fighting from this. He felt a hand on him, looking up to see Blaise on his feet, leaning across the table, the taller boy having grabbed a fistful of his robes, looking at him in terror. "Draco. Draco, what did you do?" He demanded sharply.

He took a look at his friends, at Blaise's fear, the tears slipping down Pansy's cheeks, the desperate looks that Vincent and Gregory had both gained, looking back and forth at Draco, then the door, then each other. They were trying to think of a way to protect him.

Spells shot back and forth between the Death Eaters and the professors. Students ran to hide, that half-giant mongrel leading them from the room, ushering them, rushing them out of the way. It was chaos and exactly what he had wished to avoid.

He looked back at Blaise, giving the boy's hand a squeeze before pulling it off of his robes. "It'll all be okay, Blaise." He whispered. "Get Pansy out of here. Hide her. Trust Potter."

He started walking toward the front, Bellatrix grinning like a predator as she saw him approaching.

"Malfoy!"

He turned, shocked as he saw Potter rushing his direction, firing spells at the trio in the doorway, Granger and Weasley not far behind him. He wanted to scream, to tell them to run, but part of him…

No, he couldn't be saved. It was too late.

He was closer to his would-be-captors than the others were to him. So he picked up his pace a bit - just a bit, only stopping once he felt Greyback's grip on his arm, dirty, jagged nails biting into the skin even through his layers.

"Malfoy, no!"

There was a resounding crack, a sudden pull behind his navel, a final glance to his pale and horrified looking friends, giving them a gentle smile.

And then there was nothing at all.

Alright. Chapter one is done. Short, but done all the same. I'm not sure when I'll get to uploading again, but I'm hoping to at least get up a chapter a week or some junk like that.

Until next time. ~