Worthy

Chapter 2 - Status Quo [From Yesterday by 30 Seconds to Mars]

Dispassionately, Draco rose and with the flick of his wand commanded his overnight bag to appear before him. Methodically, he showered. Then he donned his clothes including his traditional green-lined black cape with the Malfoy family crest; ordering his recently acquired silver dragon tattoo to encircle his waist beneath his emerald green vest; binding all of his long, silvery blond hair in a neat ponytail at the base of his neck as his languid grey eyes stared back at him. Soundlessly, he left with a passing glance to Clarissa, his former babysitter and former crush, whose auburn hair cascaded across the pillow as she slept. Sadly, he realized former as his old friend solitude returned.

Swiftly, Draco flew to Azkaban to visit his father for the one hour, one day a month they allowed it. At the edge of the bleak fortress, he dismounted his broom and removed the books from his overnight bag: all classics only done by authors from the old families along with some books relating their family's history. The dank odor of the prison surrounded him as he ran his fingers along its icy stone walls. As he exhaled a deep breath and squared his shoulders, Draco quietly knocked on his father's door. Undecorated, dingy slate walls enclosed a small study, private bedroom and bathroom; all filled with cheap, unmatched furnishings. A blend of sweet-grass and sage incense filled the air. Clad in black and white striped prison garb, his father sat regally at his desk, busily writing some correspondence. The Malfoy name still had influence and his father used it for all it was worth in order to get far better quarters than most. Also after all the issues with the Dementors, the prison revamped many of its policies.

Draco took the chair opposite his father. "Good morning, father," he said with a stilted smile. "How are you feeling?" He placed the books on his father's desk as he did with every visit.

"Very well," he answered with only a hint of a smile, "and you?"

"I'm alive," Draco replied nonchalantly.

"Now that your future is before you, you will be accepting the governorship of Hogwarts as tradition, I hope," his father urged, "at least for the time being."

"Of course, and I've accepted an internship offer there." Noting his father's raised eyebrows and disapproving look, he continued. "I'll train some graduates and students in Practical Defense Against the Dark Arts." Draco watched his father roll his eyes. "If I help the school at this time, it will gain me prestige and the appearance of goodwill. Also, I'm doing a masters project in Provectus Potions, so I can be nationally recognized."

"What on earth for?" Hands on his hips, Lucius glared at his son. "The Malfoy name is enough to get you anything you want and it has already earned you prestige."

"That's good for an inherited position but eventually I want an elected government position," Draco explained.

"Someone of your stature within the community does not need to subjugate themselves to lowly elections based the popular opinion of those of less standing than yourself." Shaking his head, Lucius paced his cell. "As far as academic prestige, you graduated second in your class. Why do you need to prove yourself with a potions competition?" A look of utter disgust crossed Lucius' face. "You might be paired with someone outside your house."

"You're right, of course." Before continuing on to even more controversial subjects, Draco lowered his head. "I'm not going through with the arrangement with Pansy." His father rolled his eyes and let out a perturbed sigh. "I've been in contact with Bianca. She and I are getting along quite well."

"A match with the Gasparo family," his father smirked. "That is excellent indeed." His father looked around for a moment, tapping his fingers. "How's your mother?"

"She's on a world tour and doing well. She misses you. I'll let her know you're thinking of her." The guard knocked on the door, signaling the one hour had passed. "Goodbye father."

"Goodbye Draco."

Draco left Azkaban, taking his newfound route home. The bitter winds of the North Sea numbed Draco's ears as he skimmed its waters. As he challenged an ominous wave before him, the salty sea spray stung his eyes. For several hours, he continued to play chicken with the cold waves before returning to the Malfoy Manor.

After dinner with Tinkey, the new family house elf, he gradually made his way to his study. On his desk, he picked up a class photo of his sixth year at Hogwarts. As he gazed at friends no more, his knuckles whitened, his hands shook and his lower lip trembled ever so slightly before he swallowed hard. After he placed the photo back in its place, he phlegmatically flipped through some governorship paperwork. In the aftermath of the war, he realized that all he had left were pure-blood acquaintances, not friends. At times, he desperately wanted just one true friend who he could trust and confide in. Tonight like other nights, the creaking of the floors, from Tinkey's cleaning, broke the ominous silence of the mansion. Before going to bed, Draco moseyed through the halls of Malfoy Manor, gazing at the mementos of past glories.

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After his father's trial, Draco sat in his father's study, awaiting the wrath of The Dark Lord. He braced his mind for the inevitable attack. No concern for anyone, only loyalty to Voldemort. He forced those thoughts into his mind while pushing all other concerns and thoughts out of it. As Voldemort entered, Draco's grey unemotional eyes stared at the snake-like visage of the wizard before him.

"You're father failed. Do you know what I do to those who fail me?" Voldemort hissed.

"I have an idea." Draco gripped the arms of his chair.

"As his son, you will fulfill his duties in his stead." Voldemort circled him like a vulture. "Your mission is to get a few of my followers into Hogwarts." Solemnly, Draco nodded. "And, you are to kill Dumbledore."

Draco swallowed hard. "I understand."

"Hogwarts has powerful magic protecting it." Voldemort picked up a picture of Lucius. "If Dumbledore were anywhere else, me or anyone could get to him." After he placed the picture of Lucius back in its place, he picked up a wedding picture of Narcissa. "So stunning then, your father killed for her. Did you know that?" Slowly, Draco shook his head. "Such a delicate beauty, she hasn't aged much at all." Voldemort placed the picture at the edge of the desk facing Draco. "Now that your father is in Azkaban and with you going to Hogwarts, I will personally ensure her safety."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Draco looked his lord directly in the eye. "I will do as you wish."

"I never doubted your loyalty." Voldemort withdrew his wand.

"I look forward to continuing my father's legacy." Draco offered his arm. Despite the painful almost electric shock of receiving The Dark Mark, not one ounce of emotion reflected on his face.

Many months later, Draco raced back into his father's study to find his parents being tortured to death. Their screams pierced his soul. Voldemort glared at him, shortly stopping. "They will pay the price for your failure!" He aimed his wand at them. "Avada..."

"NO!!!!"

Draco bolted up in a cold sweat from the nightmare that continually plagued him since his sixth year at Hogwarts. Snapping his fingers, a lamp lit next to his bed. Frantically, he checked his forearm to make sure his tattoo of shame hadn't reappeared. Five in the morning was a bit early to start punching his boxing bag but he knew he couldn't sleep anymore anyways.