Disclaimer: Sadly, the only thing I still own is the plot. Characters belong to JK Rowling, title of the story belongs to Brad Paisley and title of the chapter belongs to whoever made Blue's Clues. :]

Warnings: This chapter contains a meeting with Voldy, you all know what that means. Blood, guts, rape, torture, the works. You have been warned. If you are squeamish I would suggest skipping over the last bit of the chapter.

Chapter Three – We Just Got A Letter

Standing alone in his room, his boot clad feet pacing the floor underneath him, Draco couldn't believe what was going on. His father had been put in Azkaban for being amongst Voldemort's minions and from what he'd overheard from Bellatrix, the Dark Lord was thinking of making him join the ranks as punishment for his father's mistakes. The boy grabbed the hair that continuously fell into his face and pulled at it, a pained growl leaving his throat. What was he supposed to do? He'd thought he wanted to join the Death Eaters, but ever since the stupid Golden Trio had thrown it in his face that the only reason he wanted to join was because he wanted 'daddy's approval' he had been honestly thinking about it.

Joining the Death Eaters would mean that he would be spared when the time came that the Dark Lord waged war on the side of the light. It also meant that he would constantly have the Cruciatus curse thrown at him just for the enjoyment of the man who was more snake than man. Was surviving worth being tortured for fun, or would he be better off taking his life somewhere else? He wasn't even sure whether what the Trio had said to him bothered him so much because it was true, or because he questioned if it was true. He'd been so confused all summer.

Laying back on his bed, he allowed his hands to fall from his hair, a few strands caught around the stone on his family ring and he tore them from his scalp without care. The wind rustled the parchment on the desk by his window and he groaned, the sound making him sound as though he were in torment. Did he really even have a choice in the matter? If the Dark Lord decided that he wanted Draco in his ranks, it wasn't as if the blonde was strong enough to fight him. The man terrified him in a way that not even the thought of Buckbeak killing him years ago had scared him.

"CAWW!"

With a thud, Draco fell off the bed onto the hardwood floor, his knee scraping against the bed frame enough that he hissed at the feeling of his skin peeling back. "What the bloody hell do you want?" He frowned at the black raven that sat on his window sill. "Well? Bloody bird. Get over here and give me that ruddy letter since you felt the need to scare the daylights out of me."

The bird flew over to where Draco was still on all fours, biting the boy's fingers as he took the letter that the bird held in its talons. "This better be worth it. Who sends a letter with a Raven anyway?" The envelope was black, the writing on the front Silver. He looked over the envelope, a simple Draco Malfoy writtenon the front. Grabbing his wand from the inside of his cloak he waved it over the missive, checking for curses or hexes that may have been put upon it to go off when opened. Sensing nothing untoward about the letter, he tore open the seal and sat back on his knees to read it, ignoring the burning sensation that his broken skin left.

15 August 2010

Dear Draco,

"2010?" he asked with a furrowed brow. "You've got to be kidding me." Despite thinking that whoever had written the letter was crazy for writing a date upon the top of the letter that wouldn't occur for over a decade, he continued to read it. At the very least he hoped that reading it would get his mind off of what was going on downstairs.

Skimming the letter he let out the smallest of huffs as he read that the writer presumed himself to be an older future version of Draco. He wouldn't believe it. He absolutely refused to believe the words that he was reading, despite the fact that the handwriting was much the same as his own now and that most of what was being written seemed true. At least the information about the present. He couldn't be sure of the future.

He'd just begun to rip the paper to shreds when he read over the first paragraph again. Whoever this person was, they knew about the Dark Lord's plan to make Draco join the ranks. As far as he knew, the man had only informed Bellatrix about his plans thus far.

He supposed someone could have overhead as he had though. Besides, why would he listen to this letter about turning down the job when the author informed him that his mother would not live if that were the choice he made. If the author were truly him then he would know that he would risk his mother for nothing. She was the only person in the world that he had complete faith in.

What he found to be most disturbing in the letter was the section in which the author described Lydia. He claimed that she was the daughter of not only a future Draco, but of Hermione Granger as well. If anything besides the comment about forfeiting his mother's life led him to believe the letter was faked, this was it. Not only could he not stand Hermione Granger, but she couldn't stand him either. There was no way, no matter the amount of alcohol, that they would have slept together and conceived a child. And on the off chance that they somehow did manage to sleep together, he didn't believe that he would want to see the girl so it wouldn't bother him if he had a restraining order.

"Draco, darling. Severus says you are needed downstairs." Stashing the letter under his pillow, Draco turned to look at the woman standing in his doorway. Even at her age she was still a beautiful woman. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that had been pushed in front of her shoulder so it fell down the length of her torso. Her blue eyes, not unlike his own had few wrinkles around them from smiling though they didn't have many from frowning either. His mother was the epitome of collected when it came to her emotions. Rarely did he ever see anything that caused a true reaction in the older woman.

"Of course, mother. I will go down now." As we stepped downstairs he knew in his heart that this was the day. This was the day when he was going to be asked to join the Death Eaters. It wasn't the amount of them invading the house that gave it away, just like it wasn't the fact that he was being summoned downstairs. Those things happened all the time. Instead, it was the way his aunt looked at him as he walked into the room.

Bellatrix Lestrange had always been one of his least favorite people. He knew from accounts of family members and family friends that she had once been a beautiful girl, but he failed to see it. The woman's hair was far worse than the mudblood at school that he had to deal with even on a bad day, and where as at least hers had definition in the many highlights she had from spending time outdoors, Bella's was the blackest hair he had ever encountered. Even his godfather's hair didn't seem to suck up the sun and light in the room quite as much as the Lestrange woman. Sadly though, her hair wasn't even the reason why Draco could never call her pretty. Nor was the sallow look to her skin, the dark purple circles that never failed to appear no matter how much makeup she used to cover it up, or the ghastly long fingernails that she liked to scrape along surfaces so she could watch everyone in the room flinch. Her main failure was her eyes.

"Oh goodie. Drakie has finally decided to grace us with his presence. Aren't we all just so grateful that the son seems not to be quite as much of a failure as his father." At the moment, Madame Lestrange's eyes looked like they better belonged on a corpse than on a woman who was not far from his mother's age. "Let's hope that you manage to impress our lord, lest you receive a punishment far worse than death." Had he not looked up at her at that moment he would have missed the glowing in her eyes as she cackled over the thought of ruining the Malfoy heir's life.

Draco pushed past the woman without a word or backward glance and noticed how dark the room appeared. He assumed it was because the Dark Lord was not a fan of light and much preferred the darkness, but he never could understand why. Black robes and white masks filled in the room in a large circle though they parted when he drew near. He couldn't see who was there, but he knew that McNair, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Nott, Yaxley, Pettigrew, and all of the usuals would be there. One of the masked figures walked up behind him and put a hand on the back of his neck, pushing him so he fell to his knees in front of the red-eyed man at the front of the room. "Ahh, young master Malfoy," the man hissed. "What a pleasure it is to see that you are capable of answering summons in a timely manner."

Draco looked up from where his head had landed close to the floor. He could tell just by looking at the shoes that the man who had pushed him was his godfather. Thank god for small favors, he thought with a frown. At the very least he knew better than to speak without permission so he stayed silent, looking at his godfather's ankles.

"It is our pleasure to allow you to join the ranks of our beloved friends," the Dark Lord hissed once more. At his words, Draco was suddenly brought back to the letter sitting under his pillow. Quickly closing his mind against the thought as Severus had taught him he waited for the conversation to continue. "Tell me, Draco, do you wish to join our ranks. I'm sure you are aware that this entails that you would be allowed to come to our revels, not to mention you would be tasked with important missions. You would be the only child your age to be allowed in. I have special plans for you, my boy." Again his thoughts were brought back to the letter on his bed. Could it be right, were those special plans that he was meant to infiltrate the school and murder the headmaster?

"I – I," Draco wasn't sure when he had lost his ability to speak, but he looked up in time to see his aunt standing over him cackling. The choice was his, he knew. He could join the Death Eaters. His mother would be safe from harm, but he would probably be told to kill Albus Dumbledore among others. His mother would be safe, but he would be summoned to revels where he knew that they not only killed but tortured and raped innocent young girls, witches and muggles alike. His mother would be safe, but he would be in danger every waking moment of his life. His mother would be safe. But Draco Malfoy was a coward. "I do not wish to join the ranks at this time, my lord," he said honestly.

What have you just done?

You could hear a pin drop in the room before a rustling came from where his aunt Bella was standing. "My lord please allow me to show him what we do to insolent fools like him. To traitors and the like. Let me show my nephew that we don't take kindly to stupid boys who follow in their father's footsteps."

With a wave of his hand and a flick of his wrist, two things happened at once. Bellatrix stalked closer to Draco, her eyes boring into him as she thought about how she would like to torture him best. Also, one of the masked figures walked further into the room, a bound woman deposited at his feet before walking to join the circle again.

Fear in his eyes, Draco looked over in time to see that the woman lying prone on the ground was in fact his mother, hogtied like she were nothing more than a piece of meat. He had to turn away as with another flick of the man's wrist his minions rounded on his mother, snatching her clothes off and spreading her into an X shape before taking their turns molesting the woman. Despite having turned away, he could still hear the screams issuing forth out of her lungs as she tried to implore the men to leave her alone.

Finally seeing how to best torture him at the moment, Bellatrix bound him in ropes much the same way his mother had been and then turned him so he was standing and facing the men ravishing his mother. With another flick of her wand, Bellatrix had forced his eyes open, forced him to watch as his mother was brutally raped by multiple men at a time. It was nearly twenty minutes before he watched the light dim in his mother's eyes, the pain too great for her to comply with anymore. "Do you wish to join us now?" Bella asked sweetly, running her lips behind Draco's ear as she petted his hair.

A single glare later he laughed humorlessly. "If anything that made me want to join your stupid cause even less. What would possibly make me wish to join you after you murdered my mother in front of me? You are all sick. You're disgusting. You think because you're purebloods and half-bloods that you are better than everyone else. Why? Because you rape people? Because you torture people? That doesn't make you better than them, that makes you weaker. The fact that you have to hurt people, try and make them fear you so that they will comply with your demands. That's a sign of weakness. But nobody is as weak as your leader. The snake-man. After all, he doesn't do anything, does he? Just sits in his chair pretending he's a real human and commands others to perform his dirty work. You all make me sick." At the end of his speech he looked away from Bella, her jaw having developed a tick in it at his words, and turned to face Lord Voldemort. "You make me sick." With his last words he spat at the man's feet before getting ready to aim at the man's face.

He wasn't able to complete the last bit however, for as soon as he made eye contact with the man he felt his body seize in pain. The man hadn't even moved his lips but he was performing a more powerful Crucio than anybody in his ranks had ever managed. It lasted long enough that Draco actually started to get used to the pain, but as soon as he did the curse let up. His breathing was ragged, but he was still alive. With only a few bruises and cuts. His breathing had returned to normal for only ten seconds before another "crucio" was sent his way. It happened over and over again, waiting for Draco to get used to the pain before letting up just long enough for him to think it was over before doing it again.

After the sixth time or so, the blonde gave up fighting. His bowels had released along with his bladder, he was covered in excrete and urine not to mention the blood that covered him from head to toe. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt more of his bones break, he'd been counting and he was sure that at least a hundred and twelve of the two hundred and six in his body had been broken. Counting them had been the only thing keeping his mind off the pain. Not only had they broken, but some of them had pierced through the boy's flesh, other's piercing through his internal organs rendering him near death. By the time the seventh dose of the curse came his way, he'd welcomed the darkness that filtered his vision and passed out completely.