Options and Opportunites

Chapter 2

"Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them."

-Albus Dumbledore

"Draco, Draco, Draco," said the Dark Lord shaking his head with a cruel smile on his face. "What are we going to do with you and your darling mother?" he asked looking down at the boy at his feet.

They were sitting in a decently large room with yellowing wallpaper. The walls were covered in dusty photographs and the air had that distinct stale smell of a neglected home. This was the house of a recently deceased muggle widow. The couches and chairs in the sitting room had been moved so that they made a sort of semi-circle centered around a high chair where the man speaking sat. His and the boy's were the only faces visible. So much for a private meeting… Draco had really hoped that his death wouldn't be so public, it was humiliating. But he remained silent, never looking up. The Dark Lord continued to survey the boy, "This is only our third meeting is it not?"

"Yes," he said quietly, "… my lord" he added hastily.

His smile faded slightly, "Though, I believe, this is our first encounter since your family has been disgraced."

The gaggle of people in the room began to chuckle darkly and Draco's pale face flushed just slightly unseen in the dim light, but the Dark Lord raised his hand and they all fell silent. The quiet in the room while The Dark Lord cocked his head observing Draco Malfoy was unnerving.

He took his time in ending the silence, but when he finally did his voice held the same casual indifferent tone. "Your father has made some very grave mistakes these past few years... I'm beginning to wonder whether a Malfoy is worth anything these days," he said.

Draco shook his head just a fraction of an inch to either side. Being generalized as 'a Malfoy' stung… a small part of him agreed on the part of his father, to Draco at least Lucius Malfoy was worth nothing, but he knew he wasn't the same. The Dark Lord's smile grew though it didn't reach his eyes and Draco became acutely aware that the Dark Lord was hearing his thoughts as if they were spoken out loud. "I take it you disagree?" Draco didn't respond. The whole room was waiting with baited breath to see what the Dark Lord would do. Almost every one of them assumed that this would be the boy's death, save for one who was smiling to herself. To them this was the humiliating end that he deserved: to die in front of all the people who had come to know his father as a fool. So it came as no small shock when they heard the Dark Lord's next words.

"Would you like to prove it?" Draco's eyes widened, but he still looked at the floor, refusing to look at that face.

"Y-Yes my Lord, how?" Draco said.

"Would you say that you are loyal to me Draco?" said Lord Voldemort.

"Of course my lord," he said confidently, but even as he said it there was a tiny part of him that questioned that. And with full knowledge that the Dark Lord could read each and every one of his thoughts he recognized that he wasn't sure whether he was loyal to the man before him. And he looked up, for the first time at the Dark Lord who was smiling at him. He knew… of course he knew… and with that the tiny bit of hope he had allowed himself a moment ago was torn away. Surely, He wouldn't allow the son of a failure who didn't support his efforts live.

"So loyal that you'd like to join my inner circle? Take the place of your father and stand beside me?" he asked smiling all along. There were gasps and mutterings from all the hooded figures but when the Dark Lord raised his eyes to look at the other followers, clearly offended at their questioning his choice, they fell silent immediately. Draco's eyes were wide with amazement; he looked to his left to see Bellatrix wearing a satisfied smile, no look of shock or surprise on her face. Now Draco understood what she had meant this morning. What was it she had said?

"Now that you're father's left, it's your job to take his place."

And even before that, "All that I know is that whatever he has decided it is the right decision and that it's not our place to question it." Of course, she had known how much his mother would loathe this.

But despite the building elation that he would be able to live, he didn't understand… what would make The Dark Lord take an underage 16 year old boy, who was the son of the man who had unintentionally thwarted his plans on more than one occasion, as a Death Eater? It didn't make sense. He was no use for such a person as Draco. And on top of that, he must know all of Draco's doubts about this life and the Dark Arts. Hadn't he just acknowledged that the Dark Lord knew exactly his thoughts on the matter? What could compel him to do this?

He simply couldn't come up with an answer and instead the Dark Lord broke the silence in the room, "Perhaps I should speak to Draco alone he said." And his smile had faded, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of him as the rest of the room stood and left without another word.

"Why so hesitant Draco?" he asked, though his voice was knowing.

Draco was beginning to wrap his head around the concept and finally was able to speak, "It's not that I'm hesitant my lord, only excited by the prospect of serving you fully." The lie came easily. Maybe it was easier to lie through your teeth when you knew that the person you were talking to already knew your true feelings.

"I sense you're not entirely truthful Draco," he said. Draco didn't bother to contradict him, it's not like he could convince him otherwise. But the Dark Lord didn't seem offended or upset, more amused. "Tell me, do you value your life Draco?" he asked.

Draco had to think about the question. He had an inkling of where this was going. After a moments pause he said, "To some extent."

The Dark Lord smiled again, "And your mother's… do you value your mother's life?" He said it so lightly, but with a sort of tone that made it blatantly clear that he knew exactly the answer to the question and just how significant the implications were to his subject.

The calm he had managed since the beginning of this meeting began to ebb away as fear began to gnaw at his insides. "Yes, very much so," Draco said quietly.

The Dark Lord only smiled wider at this. "Then I will ask you one last time, would you like to join me?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Draco's mind worked furiously trying to think of some alternative, something he could offer in return for his mother's life… but there was nothing. In order to save his own skin and his mother's he had to do this, because there were no more options.

He felt childish for thinking it but this was so unfair! Why did he have to be put in this situation again and again? Why couldn't he choose his future? Why was he forced to carry in the footsteps of a father who hadn't earned an ounce of respect from his son? It just wasn't fair! And he could tell that the man before him was enjoying this… he was making him suffer because he loved his family. For one horrifying moment he thought he might cry, but he fought the urge.

And he said the only thing he could say, "It would be my honor to serve you, my lord." His voice was barely audible it was shaking so hard.

"I was hoping you would say that," he said. "Rise," Draco obeyed, "Give me your arm," he said. And he raised his shaking arm up to his master. "Step closer Draco," he said, and Draco took two steps forward so that there was no more than 2 feet of room between them.

The Dark Lord took his arm in one of his cold hands and Draco felt all hope vanish as he felt the wand tip touch his forearm. White hot pain spread through his arm for a moment as what looked like black smoke billowed out on his skin from the wand tip and slowly took the form of the Dark Mark. He let go of his arm and stepped back, as if to get a good look at him.

Draco stared at it, disgusted. The anger and frustration threatened to consume him. He didn't know if he could face the truth. Only a few short minutes ago he had been content to face his death. But now he stood before the Dark Lord with that hideous serpent on his arm, permanently branded as a servant of Lord Voldemort.

"You say you are loyal to me Draco?" he asked again, all the previous amusement drained from his face.

The question seemed to be so much more difficult to answer this time, and he felt sure that the he knew the answer to the question this time, but of course he couldn't say the truth. "Yes, my lord," he said, his voice so quiet he wondered whether the man in front of him had actually heard it.

The Dark Lord didn't seem so amused by the boy's pain anymore. "You see, I have a task that needs to be carried out. And I believe that you may be the person to do it," he said. "If you succeed in this task, I believe you would make up for any mistakes your father has made, and you would be doing me a great service."

Draco didn't respond again, but looked up, his face a mix of curiosity and fear.

"What I wish of you to do," the Dark Lord said holding Draco's gaze steady, "is kill Albus Dumbledore."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did Draco's eyes widened in shock and fear. For a moment he was speechless… But when he finally did find his tongue the words began to fall out without his control, "You want me to kill him? Me: Draco Malfoy, kill Albus Dumbledore? By myself? But that would be im-"

"Impossible?" the Dark Lord spoke the word for him, his voice dangerously quiet. "I would think a boy in your position would be willing to do anything to regain his family's honor. But, if I misunderstood your loyalty then I can find someone else for the job. Perhaps the Malfoys are as pathetic as I thought, and if that is the case I see no need for their further presence."

Draco understood the significance of these words immediately. "N-no my Lord," his voice was a strange mix of terror and forced calm that made him sound slightly deranged. "What I should have- What I mean to say is that I would be happy- no honored- to carry out your command."

The Dark Lord smiled at the boy and began to speak again, "Good. Just like your father you are willing to do whatever I command," and for one wild moment the comparison made him want to hit the man in front of him. "He was after all, a good servant most of the time."

The Dark Lord paused, relishing the reaction he had created. If there ever was a boy who didn't know his own feelings, it was the one in front of him. Then with a dark smile he said, "But even a good servant needs punishment sometimes you know. And I never got to see your father before he was locked up. Pity really…" he said his voice growing softer with every word. Draco felt the fear bubble up within him once more. "Have you ever experienced the Cruciatus curse Draco?"

He shook his head, although it was more of a spasm. There was no denying the terror in Draco's eyes. But the Dark Lord did respect just how calm the boy sounded when he spoke. "Never," he said.

"I want you to be familiar with it for two reasons: one, with your father unavailable you will face the retribution for his actions," Draco nodded his head; he had expected this of course, only worse. After all he had been fairly certain that this meeting would be the end of his insignificant existence. The Dark Lord continued, "and second, I'd like you to know exactly what your mother will feel every time you make the slightest mistake in the task I have given you."

At this Draco's head shot up to stare into that putrid face. Again it was his mother's wellbeing that would be his motivation to live… and again that frustration at the injustice of the whole scenario welled up within him. Then, suddenly he realized the man's reason's for doing all of this. Draco and his mother would come to the same end, just a matter of when and how. And since they'd die anyways why not watch the boy try desperately to save his family?

The man in front of him was using him as a puppet for nothing more than his own entertainment. The Dark Lord knew perfectly well there was no way that he was going to be able to carry out this task, but he would make him try in vain for him and his family.

He wanted nothing more than to scream 'no' over and over again. But what he actually did was nod his head slowly, staring at his feet.

"Good then," he braced himself for the curse, "Crucio!"

The pain was worse than he had ever imagined. His vision went fuzzy and he lost all sense of time and place. He felt as if his insides were being torn to shreds while simultaneously an intense feeling of despair filled up every inch of his body. But he refused to shout out, not entirely sure why, but there was a part of him that was urging him not to scream. He didn't know how long it had lasted but the pain to last an eternity. This was infinitely worse than he had ever felt. And then it was over…

Slowly, he became aware of is surroundings again. He was on his back, looking up at a chandelier that was missing half of its crystals. He slowly sat up, but it hurt his entire being… like every muscle in his body was sore from exercise.

"What a brave boy you are Draco?" the Dark Lord said looking at his victim curiously. "Perhaps, not as much like your father as I had thought…" For a moment the comment made him furious, but more out of habit then out of true feelings. "You may leave… wait with the other Death Eaters. I'd like to speak to Bellatrix alone,"

Draco stepped out into the hall, trying to hide any hint that he had suffered the Cruciatus Curse. The group in the hall way looked up when he exited.

"He'd like to speak to you Bella," Draco said. The smile that graced her face was more loving than anything he had ever received being her nephew. She walked past him into the room and closed the door behind her.

The group in front of him was so familiar to Draco and it made him really appreciate how much of an integral part of his life the Death Eaters had always been. More so now than ever, he supposed. He knew every one of them by face and most by name. These men and women had sat at his dinner table, talking about the old days, dozens of times. They all attended dinner parties that were held at the manor constantly. And still Draco felt incredibly out of place. He could tell by the size of the group and the people in it that this was the Dark Lord's most faithful servants. Was he a part of that now? More importantly did he want to be?

It was Crabbe's father who approached him first, "Did he do it?"

Draco didn't need clarification to know what he was talking about. He pulled up his left sleeve and showed him the dark mark. The rest of the room was staring as well, some looked only shocked, others angry. But after the muttering died down they all resumed their little conversations in groups of two or three, ignoring their newest cohort.

He didn't know what to do with himself. He was leaning against a wall, looking at his feet, fighting the urge to cry. The fact that he was taking his father's place in anything alone was enough to tear him up… but to become a death eater and fight for a cause that he no longer believed in at the risk of his life and the lives of those he loved? That was just sick… and the fact that the task he was given was impossible and that all the things he had forestalled by becoming a death eater would only be made real as soon as he failed? It only made it clearer that this was all a game to Him... a sick, twisted game. Draco was nothing more than a human experiment for the entertainment of a sadistic bastard.

And more than ever, Draco appreciated how wrong it all was.

Chapter 3

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

a/n: Hope this was a little more interesting. Thanks for the reviews! And I meant to explain earlier that the Draco in this fic is definetly more good than canon Draco. But that's why it's fanfiction right? Anyways, this'll be the last of the chapters before we get to 'The Lighting Struck Tower' scene which should be good (I hope?).

Review and I'll write faster :] (I'm not below bribery)

And do be patient with me in the next chapter, it will be word for word from the book for a while.