Memo: ItalicFlashback for those who don't understand.

Draco sat up in his bed, hid arms crossed stubbornly across his chest. He could still see the soft indent in his sheets were Hermione had been lying just a couple hours ago. He was angry she hadn't bothered to wake him up.
He wondered how they would have acted around each other. Would it have been awkward or wonderful? Maybe she was right to leave things as perfect as they were.
He shifted his back stinging a bit. The pain hadn't completely gone away yet, and he supposed it never would.

Hermione had constantly asked him why he was so nice. Why he treated her so sweetly now that she was sick. He laughed, thinking of all the pathetic excuses he had given her. He had hated her from the very beginning of this year, but when he saw that she was troubled by secrets just like his own, he found himself warming to her. She had helped him through the hardest of times and had not even realized it.
He sighed, closed his eyes, troubled by a memory that he could never push away…

Draco sat on the couch of his bedroom, smiling like a madman. This would be the day that he became a man. This would be the day where he left everything childish behind and accepted his responsibilities. Today was the day that he joined his father at the right hand side of Lord Voldemort.
Then they could wipe away the scum of the Earth… starting with that mud blood Granger.
He snickered at the thought of her being the victim of one of the attacks and his smile widened.

"Draco," his father hissed from the doorway. His attention focused on his father. He was such a great man. He had just recently escaped the imprisonment in Azkaban. He was a changed man, even colder and stronger than he had been in the days before. Now he was a ruthless man, bloodthirsty and vengeful. He was the perfect specimen of a Death Eater.

"Yes Father?" Draco asked, respect dripping from his lips and tongue like saliva. Lucius Malfoy tried to smile at his son approvingly, but it looked more like a sneer.

"Come. It is time," he informed his son. Draco could hardly contain his excitement. He had thrived to be a servant of the Dark Lord for so long. It had been his one dream. Others had foolish expectations and wishful thinking as to being the Minister of Magic or the star player on a professional Quidditch Team. Not Draco… his long time goal in life was to be the Dark Lord's most faithful servant.

He followed his father, leaving his bedroom behind. With a shaky breath he followed the man he looked up to, his forever role model. They walked down the main staircase and into the living room.
There two house elves stood, Dorrie and Bastion. They stood trembling and staring at the floor. They held long, silky black robes in their arms. Lucius snatched one and dressed himself quietly.
He picked up the other and tossed it to Draco.

"Where this," he said. Excitement pounded in Draco's heart. He had never been so nervous. He could barely restrain himself from shaking. He took several deep breaths just so he could pull the robes on over his clothes.
He looked at his father, the hooded figure striking fear and respect into his heart. Draco smiled.
A vase was set down on the coffee table.

"Put your hand on it," his father commanded. Lucius spoke few words these days, and they were always orders. Malfoy never asked questions. There were punishments for asking too many questions.
What he did know was that when there was a meeting held, Lord Voldemort would make it only possible to arrive with special Port Keys. You could dissaparate but never apparate. It was just the way it was. Also, you could only dissaparate if Voldemort wished it. There would be no escaping his clutches if he did not want you to do so.
Draco was intimidated by the thought of being under complete control, but he was willing to submit so he could be a loyal servant to the Dark Master.

Draco's hand was placed on the smooth porcelain. The two stood in silence, the ticking of the clock growing louder as it closed in on the last few moments before they would be transported to Voldemort.
He took one last gulp of air before it felt as if he were being yanked through the nasal to the destination.

He gasped for breath and tried not to show the ache in his head when their feet landed on firm ground. His father caught Draco's arm, not permitting him to stumble. He was a Malfoy, and a Malfoy never lost his balance.
He straightened his robes and looked around, robes covering the faces of everyone amongst them.

"Do not look a single one of them in the eyes, boy. If you do, there will be consequences," Lucius hissed. He led Draco slowly to the figure waiting in the shadows.
They were in some sort of strange area. It looked like a clearing in the woods… dead woods. It was as if all life had been stripped from it or burned out of it. He stumbled through ash that made his throat burn. Debris was everywhere. The smell was nauseating…
He saw a pale and stiff hand sticking up from the ashes. He grimaced and then stared at his feet, thankful for the hood that hid his discomfort.

All of a sudden, being here and in the presence of Voldemort, he wasn't as excited. All he had heard were stories. All he knew was what his father told him. He did not know the true nature or cruelty of Voldemort, and now he was frightened…
Voldemort could smell the fear.

When Malfoy saw the man that cast fear into the hearts of every living witch and wizard of the world, he trembled. Red eyes bulged from his head on which the skin was pulled too tight. Slit nostrils flared as he inhaled the aroma of his fear. His hands were long, bony. They seemed to be claws or talons and were flexing and stretching as if suppressing the urge to strangle anyone about him.
A familiar man huddled beside him, sniffling and breathing rapidly. He was overweight and disgusting looking, filth that was not worthy to be stuck to the bottom of their shoes. He had a strange hand, large and strong looking.
That must be Peter Pettigrew… or Wormtail if you prefer.

"Malfoy… did you bring the boy?" Voldemort hissed. Just his voice caused nausea to fill Draco's stomach.

"Yes, my lord," Lucius whispered before falling to his knees in worship of his lord. Draco fell to his knee, more out of fear than respect.

"All, here my words!" Voldemort called out into the ash-covered area. Heads turned and everyone fell to their knees in a whoosh, mumbling their worship and loyalty to Voldemort.
He looked down at Draco. Draco could feel his eyes though he stared at the ground. Judgment was being passed. His breathing was rapid and fear and adrenaline raced through his veins, as he had never felt before.
He didn't like the feeling.

"Malfoy, you said the boy was willing!" Voldemort hissed.

"He is, my lord. He will be your most faithful servant, you're most loyal follower…"

"Be silent! There is nothing but doubt and fear in this boy's heart!" Voldemort screamed in anger. Lucius shuddered away from Voldemort. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the tears. How could he have been so foolish? He was just a boy. He was a stupid boy who had been fascinated by stories… he knew nothing real.

"Forgive me, My Lord… I was misled…" Lucius begged for forgiveness, shooting icy glares at Draco's hunched figure.

"You will pay for your arrogance and stupidity, Malfoy," Voldemort hissed. "Crucio!" he snarled. Draco's ears were filled with his father's pain and screams. Draco stumbled to a stand, seeing his father thrashing and screaming around in the air.

"Leave him alone!" Draco screamed at Voldemort. He lowered his wand and Lucius fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

"You dare defy me, boy?"

Draco stood there, anger boiling in him. Voldemort snickered triumphantly.

"You have bravery and skill… I offer you the chance to have ultimate power, young Malfoy. Accept my offer! Join me!" Voldemort commanded. Draco froze. What would he say? Would he put himself up for the risk of being tortured just as his father had?

"Accept him, Draco, or you will no longer be my son," Lucius hissed, his breath ragged. Draco stared at his father. If his father was willing to go through so much pain just to cause pain, then he wasn't strong. He was weak.

"No, I do not accept," Draco mumbled. Voldemort let out a screech of anger and raised his wand, intending to kill Draco. Draco turned and ran from Voldemort.

"KILL HIM!" Voldemort screamed as he dodged about the cloaked characters. Claws dug into him and he listened to them take out their wands. He shoved them aside.
If he could make it into the woods… he could survive if he could just make it into the woods…

There was no curse screamed into the night. Instead, something almost as lethal happened. He felt something that felt like pure fire plunge into his back and drag down, tearing and ripping him apart. He let out a terrified and pained shriek as the knife tore his back open.
He collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. He listened to the Death Eaters bow, crouching as Voldemort approached him. Sweat beaded his forehead and he felt cold… but the pain was fading… his body was going numb…

"You will pay for your denial and the toil you have caused, boy," Voldemort sneered and raised his wand. Draco watched as he opened his mouth and intended to scream those fatal words that had killed so many people… Harry's parents… Cedric Diggory…
Then, Voldemort let out a pained yelp.

"Get out of my head, Potter!" he snarled and his hands shot up to his temples. Draco opened his eyes wide… he knew this was his chance. If Voldemort wasn't concentrating…

He closed his eyes and pictured his parent's bedroom perfectly… pictured his mother sitting at her dresser and doing her make up as she prepared for the nice dinner Lucius had been planning in celebration of his son joining the Dark Master…

With a loud pop he snapped out of the ashen graveyard where countless people were buried beneath them before Voldemort even realized that he had let his guard down.

He arrived in his parents' bedroom, his mother letting off a terrified scream.

"Draco!" she screamed out. "Oh in the name of Merlin, you're bleeding!" she screamed.

"Help… mother… father… and Voldemort… after me…" he whispered, beginning to convulse in spasms of pain searing his body. She nodded and pulled her wand from her dress, touching him with it. The pain subsided and he gasped in relief.

"Draco, that won't completely heal it… just speeds up the process. I do not know enough advanced magic to help you… but my dear boy please apparate to somewhere safe! Get out of here before they find you!" he nodded and closed his eyes, picturing hundreds of places of where he could go…

"And Draco?" she asked.

"Yes, Mother?" he responded as he finally decided it would be best if he went to the Leaky Cauldron to find help.

"I love you," she whispered and he smiled as there was a loud crack and he disappeared from his mother's arms…

Draco sighed sadly. In the Leaky Cauldron he had found help from, surprisingly, Arthur Weasley. He made the man swear that he would tell no one of what happened and the man had kept his word.
Still, for what happened he hated Potter and the Weasley's more than anything now. They had saved his life, and for it he was in their debt. He was in the debt of Boy Wonder whose stupid scar had saved him and the Weasels' father who was just too stupid and caring for his own good.
There was a knock on his door and he smiled, expecting to see Hermione standing there.
He ran up to the door and opened it, a bright smile on his face… only to see Professor McGonagall. He frowned.

"What is it, Professor?" he asked. Tears were in her eyes and her lips were trembling. He went pale and knew what was wrong before she even spoke the words.

"Mr. Malfoy… there's been an accident…"