His arm still hurt from the sudden pain only days ago. Was it days, it felt like a lifetime. He had followed every step that he was told he needed to take. His father had demanded that he took up the mantle of pureblood supremacy. He was raised to believe that he was better than those whose blood and money status were less than his… as worthless and beneath his status as an heir.
And it had landed him in a cell within the ministry.
At first he would admit he was naive to believe everything his father had said to him, had preached to him. Muggle-borns were worthless, only just higher up then muggles themselves. He and his friends had known no different. His circle of associates were the children of his father's associates after all. They had all had the same beliefs spouted to them as he had.
They had been taught politics and societal niceties. How to manipulate and twist words so that they came out as the better party. Were shown how to work the law in such a way that while gray, there was no taint on their name; no dark marks left on their legacy, as a member of a noble or ancient family they were above the law. It became normal for him and his friends.
Then he was sent to Hogwarts. Where families of even higher status than his own were pro-muggle and defenders of muggle-born witches and wizards. He had found himself enclosed with the older students of Slytherin before his own sorting had even happened; it was a foregone conclusion that he was the prince of Slytherin house.
Again, there was a status he was expected to uphold. He relied on the lessons he learnt from his father. That he was better than those who were not within his circle. He did everything he was told to do, acted how it was expected, spoke with a dignified air of someone above the rest.
He would freely admit now that he was a pompous git.
He was above average at best with his studies, and used his father's name and status to further himself within the house of Slytherin. Wealth and prestige got you further than ability and talent. Even those families that were more in the gray side of magic knew that.
And for five years he was content, or not happy with his lot. The older students respected him, those of his age looked to him for leadership, and the younger students saw him as the head student of Slytherin if not the whole school. His money and connections bought him the role of prefect, he knew full well that Nott was a better student who should have been his year prefect, but having your godfather as your head of house spoke volumes.
Then the Dark Lord rose and his father failed. He watched as his father was tortured and his mother dismissed in her own home. As his aunt was praised for her cruelty and insanity. When his father came to him and spoke of the great honor that was being bestowed on him, he was to be a Death Eater and work from inside the school. He was marked -branded -and given his role. He was to kill Albus Dumbledore or else.
At first he was proud, he was still underage, yet the Dark Lord had seen something in him. While others would say they supported the beliefs of the Dark Lord, only he would be able to say he was seen as worthy.
Until the first attempt didn't work. Or the second.
He could admit the duel with Potter in the girls bathroom when he thought he was dying… he wanted to die. Everything he thought he knew was shaken to its foundation. For everything he thought he could do; he couldn't. The guilt of harming those other students, even Weasley, was eating at him. At the message from his aunt, he changed tactics. He would help his aunt into the school.
And then it happened… but not by his wand.
And he found his true worth to the Dark Lord. he was a nonentity. He was nothing more than a play toy used as a tool against his parents, and his parents against him. Even his aunt was nothing more than fodder, simply tossed aside when no longer needed or useful.
"You have a visitor, Malfoy." The guard called as he tapped the bars of the cell.
Nodding, he stood and followed the Auror out of the holding cells, passing his mother and father, among others that he knew. Their faces shadowed in something he couldn't understand, his father's sneer nothing more than a mask. Yet, all but a few had the same mark on their arm, a black mass of nothing.
As he climbed the steps, and walked the corridors to the interrogation room he wondered who would have such pull to circumvent the laws. Very few of his "friends" would have the pull to do this, and none of them would stick their heads out to help him.
Entering the room, his eyes quickly adjusted to the light so different to the holding cells below. The dark skinned man was standing in the corner, yet the room was set with a few chairs and a single table.
"Sit there." He was shoved closer to the single seat by the Auror.
He felt as the invisible ties held him to the chair, his hands pulled to the arm rests as they continued up from his feet. He didn't fight the restraints, his mother's words still very much in his memory. He watched as the two men shared a look before the Auror nodded before walking out the door.
"Do you know who I am?" The heavily accented man stepped closer to the table, though still not taking a seat. His presence alone was dominating.
"No, you were at the castle I think."
"That chair you are sitting in, do you know what it does?" he asked. "It not only holds the person sitting in the chair in place, they can also not lie when asked a question."
Nodding, I waited for him to start. Since our arrests I had seen two different Aurors in a room similar to this, though the chairs I sat in didn't seem to be like this. Knowing that I was being interrogated was not as frightening as I thought it would be. The others simply asked for verification of information others had already supplied.
"I will be staying in the room." he turned to the empty chairs opposite me.
"Draco," of everyone that could have been in the room, they were not who I expected.
Potter and Granger sat in the chairs opposite me, the slight shimmer of his invisibility cloak settled until they were both completely visible. I watched as he folded up the material before she packed it into her small bag. Looking at them, I could see just how much this past year had damaged them. Both looked as if they hadn't eaten in months, the dark marks under their eyes screamed of nightmares just like his own.
"Come to gloat?" I asked as they looked at me.
"This was a bad idea. He's not ready to look past everything yet." Granger sighed as she went to stand, her hand disappearing into her bag.
"No, he's not. But it doesn't matter." Potter sat forward, resting on the table. "I'm not here to help build a case against you Malfoy. I'm here to try to right some of the wrongs that happened that shouldn't have happened."
"You can't help me Potter."
"Harry," she mumbled as she turned towards the man in the corner.
"I was there on the tower that night. I was there when you told him why. Before anyone else turned up." he stated.
"No, it was just me and him." I shouted.
"You were threatened. Your family was threatened. Your mother was going to die if you didn't do it. Then your aunt, Grayback and a few others came up. What you didn't know was that Dumbledore was already dying." The room stilled, almost as if the air had been sucked out of it.
"It was Snape who ultimately took his life, but it was also Snape who was prolonging it for as long as he could. They agreed that Snape would take his life, and spare your soul from the darkness of taking his life. I didn't get it then, but I do now."
"What do you want?" I sighed, sitting my whole body feeling like it had been hit with bludgers for hours.
"You saved me, us, twice. Once in your home when you wouldn't admit it was me, even though you knew it was. The second in the castle when someone fired the killing curse at me and you threw the chunk of rock to block it. Even in the bathroom in our sixth year, you really didn't fight back."
"And you want to know why?" I asked only for him to nod. "Do you know I'm only two months older than you? That we are technically cousins?"
"By Harry's grandmother right?" Granger asked. "What? You knew I looked up your family in first year."
"Right." Potter nodded before turning back to face me.
"I couldn't do it. That night on the tower. I was tasked with taking out Dumbledore, it was a punishment to my father for failing his mission here at the Ministry. He was to watch as I die for his mistakes. Only Professor Snape stepped up. I was an idiot. My aunt's laughter as I stood there while Snape killed him. I couldn't stop it. Any of it."
"Did you take the mark voluntarily?" Granger asked, her eyes landing on my forearm. I knew that they could see where I had tried to dig it out. Even before it had burst, the spells and cuts littered my arm had caused scaring even dittany couldn't stop. "Who or what did you kill to gain that mark?"
"No-one. Nothing. My father said that ridding the world of Dumbledore would show them my loyalties to the cause. But I couldn't do it. Even then Snape stepped in, taking the blame for me. The Dark Lord had used the Cruciatus curse on me, I blacked out after a minute or two. Snape took the rest of my punishment."
"And when you went back to Hogwarts this year?" Potter asked, taking Granger's hand as she whipped her face on his shoulder.
"I was meant to spy on Snape for my aunt. She didn't trust him. But I couldn't. I didn't do anything. When the battle started, I felt my arm burn. It's like you hear his voice in your head when it does. It compels you to do whatever you hear. When you found us in that room. All I knew was that I was to fight. Crabbe and Goyle had risen in the ranks of the younger members of the Death Eaters. They had more respect from others but I still out ranked them because of money and their father's captures.
"Zambini had been dragged into it by his mother. She had been killed because she didn't agree to her son being a Death Eater until after school. He didn't want it at all. So when we were in the room I had this sudden thought. To fight; to show my loyalties. Only my loyalties weren't to the Dark Lord."
"And in your home. That night." Granger asked, absently rubbing her arm.
"I couldn't stop them if they wanted to call him. But I could stop them if I said I didn't know. Granger would have been used as bait against you. Weasley would have been killed on the spot for being a blood traitor. But only if you were with them. My father said you had to lose everything so your defeat would be spectacular; he said that you'd willingly die for your friends."
"I did." my head shot up as those words left his mouth.
"But, you're alive. How?" I asked as I looked at the scar on his forehead.
"It doesn't matter." he sighed, rubbing his eyes before looking back at me.
"Why are you here Potter?" I asked once more.
"Because, if I am going to speak on your and your mothers behalf at the hearings that start next week, I need to know if saving you is the right thing. I've spoken to your mother, and now I'm speaking to you. Answer Shacklebolt's questions honestly. I will do my best to help you as much as I can."
"I don't need your pity Potter. I know I messed up." I sneered as he stood, while Granger shook her head as she pulled out the cloak.
"It's not pity Malfoy. It's doing the right thing. Just like you did on the tower, at your home, and at the school. I doubt we will ever be friends, but you deserve a second chance at being you." He nodded to the man -Shacklebolt, before they were once more invisible.
"Tell me all you can from the night you gained that mark." the man said as the door closed.