The Whole Shebang

Draco sat in his room, laughter flitting upwards from the party down below. He was expected to be there, shortly. After all, he thought a bit wryly, he was the guest of honor. It was his day.

Taking a deep breath, he pondered his options. There was the door. He could leave through the door, go down the stairs, through the corridor, and to the party where he was expected. There, he would swear his allegiance. But he wasn't sure if he particularly wanted to. This hadn't been his plan. He did not wish to serve anyone. He was ready to be his own master.

Then there was the window. He could quietly slip out, summon his broom, and fly away. He would never have to return.

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Darling, you can't live your life
Singing songs in exile
You were born for stardom's crown
And not for self-denial
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Of course, it would only be a matter of time before they found him. And they could kill him then. But would that be any worse than having to serve another for the rest of his life? It would be the rest of his life, he knew that for sure. No one ever backed out after accepting the mark. He'd heard of one, his mother's cousin, but he was killed swiftly and without mercy. No different really than trying to escape on his broom. No, if he wanted to survive, he would become a Death Eater and stay that way.

His family had been preparing him for this since his earliest memories. "Such an honor," they'd said. Honor. His blessing and his curse. A blessing because all those he knew abided by it, and a curse because he too was bound to do the Honorable Thing. Every time. Forget about what he wanted, he had to do as honor decreed. It made him sick. Ironically, his honor was the very reason that he was wanted, that and his loyalty, power and talent. That was why he'd been selected by the Dark Lord. It wasn't because his parents had pleaded his case. It was genetics. And his upbringing. And luck, he thought, can't forget that. Pure, dumb, luck.

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So don't you close the door on fate
When she comes to call
And tell her that you'll join her there
At the masquerader's ball
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He could hear the party getting louder below. Presumably someone else had arrived. He checked the time. It was 7:48. At 8:30, he was expected below. If he didn't show up, one of his father's friends would come to bring him. He took another deep breath, and stood up.

Draco wasn't sure where he planned to go, the window or the door, but he was sure of one thing: he was tired of sitting on his bed. He wanted to do something. He didn't want to sit there, helplessly trying to make his mind up while the minutes ticked away, until finally it would be 8:30 and the decision would be made for him when someone came to extricate him from his room. Draco abruptly decided that he would make this decision for himself, and wouldn't let someone else decide his fate as they had so many times. He rested his hand on the chair by his desk.

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Funny how some people never love at all

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From when he was young, his father had done as he pleased with Draco's life. He'd decided what Draco learned, with whom he conversed, how he spent his time, and, ultimately, what he would do with his life. It repulsed Draco that he'd been living that way for nearly eighteen years. He had no doubts that his father loved him, but he knew just as surely that his father had always acted in self-interest, rather than thinking about what Draco might want. His father had always dominated. Father knows best.

And now Father was in Azkaban.

Draco closed his eyes briefly and sighed. From downstairs, as the clock struck 8:00, he could hear the party guests chant their allegiance to their lord, who had, presumably, just arrived. Their lord. His father's lord. His future lord.

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We'll take the whole shebang
All or nothing, anything
Ecstasy's the birthright of our gang
We'll take the whole shebang
Free your heart of guilt and shame
Come and claim what's yours
The whole shebang

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It wasn't that he was afraid of it. But he was liked being in control. He deplored the idea of allowing someone to give him orders for the rest of his life, just as his father always had.

They promised him the world. But Draco wasn't an idiot. He knew he'd never get it. He'd be one of the soldiers, and nothing more. His father, he knew, dismissed that fact as trivial. Draco thought it was anything but trivial. His father was convinced that this was the way to gain power, that it was in their blood, and it was their right to rule. There wasn't any point in worrying it wouldn't come. It would, he said, as long as Draco had the fortitude to go and get it. No remorse. No pity. No fear. And then, everything could be his.

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Nothing on this earth could hold you prisoner, my dear
Except for contemplations evil brother, love is feared
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Draco's problem, he knew, was that he thought too much. He was never content with accepting an answer, but had to question it, contemplate it. He had never dared to ask his father from what source these fantasies came. His father ignored the facts and flaws, in order that he might enjoy them. He wanted Draco to enjoy them too.

It all sounded wonderful, until he thought about it. And as soon as he did, he knew the truth again, that he was signing on not to a life of grandeur, but to a life of servitude. From birth, he had been taught the glories of power, and had been told how far above the rest of the world he was. His entire personality was based upon that; that he was better than those who claimed to be his peers. He knew that he would have no trouble rising to the position he'd been promised by his father at birth, in bed-time stories and lectures through the years. He had no problems with competition, no qualms about stepping on others to rise in glory. He sneered slightly at the thought. His schoolmates had always wondered why he was so cold, why he never showed attraction to anyone, only disdain. It was because he knew that he was better than the rest of those fools, and that befriending them, or building relationships, was useless, because it would only tie him down. Holding love for anyone would weaken him. And he couldn't afford to be weak.

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But love is extra-terrestrial
And love falls from the stars
Like Maxwell Demon's silver disk
Into this world of ours
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But much as he tried, he couldn't truly defeat the desire to forge connections. He wasn't surprised, of course. It was irrational to expect to succeed where so few ever had, unless you knew something they didn't. Despite his harsh contemptuous taunts, he frequently felt glimmers of love or respect for others. To combat this, he generally treated them more harshly, to prove to himself that he could. But he had hurt many people whom he respected greatly. All for this bloody appearance.

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Funny how we keep on loving, true love power

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All for power. Because he cherished the idea of power more than he would any friendship or romance. Power was all he could need. Power was what he had been promised. He had been taught how to get it. And he intended to. He knew that he would be willing to give up anything to get it.

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We'll take the whole shebang
All or nothing, anything
Ecstasy's the birthright of our gang
We'll take the whole shebang
Free your heart of guilt and shame
Come and claim what's yours
The whole shebang

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Anything? He questioned himself, noting where his thoughts had led him. His free will? Would he subjugate himself to gain what he deserved, on the vague word of the man who'd promised for years that this was the way to power? Would he be willing to combat the force he would have served? The true question arising was whether the ordeal tonight would be a step towards power, or towards a life of misery. Draco moved to the window and looked out.

It was beautiful. The moon had just risen above the tree by his room, and it cast a silver glade over the ground. He felt it hit his face, and drank in the light. He opened the window. The clock read 8:23. In seven minutes, he would either be gone or he'd be downstairs, standing in a crowd of those like his father. A crowd of followers, a crowd of subjects, each vying for what scraps of power their lord would throw them.

Decide! He screamed at himself. He knew that the decision was his, but it needed to be made immediately.

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Kick up your heels and paint your face
Wave goodbye to yesteryear
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He smelled the night air. Cool and fresh. He looked back at his room, lit with a false, dim candlelight. He could leave it now, he realized with a grin. He could get a broom and be on his way far from this place. He could forget about the party, and he would never need to hear his father reprimand him. A rush of adrenaline filled him. He had the option of never needing to see his parents again. He could make his own decisions for the rest of his days.

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We can swing in outer space
Or from the chandeliers
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He paused his thoughts, which were already outside of the Manor and down the road. He looked around, back at his room. The door.

With a sigh, he closed the window, and walked to the mirror. It was futile. He'd all but committed himself by being here tonight, however forcibly he'd been brought. They would find him by morning, wherever he went. He could make his own decisions, to be sure, but only until the next morning, when they came to claim him. He straightened his hair, and for a moment, closed his eyes in solemn acquiescence.

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Though sometimes it breaks my heart, I hide my tears
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He would do it, tonight. He would bow, and pledge, and worship. But tomorrow...tomorrow, or the next day, or years thereafter, he would have his chance. At 8:29, before anyone could come to get him, he opened the door. He stepped through it.

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We'll take the whole shebang
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He went through the hall, and down the stairs, through the corridor, and into the ballroom that held the party. As the ceremony proceeded, the world took on a surreal quality, coming in and out of focus. He found himself pledging his loyalty. He would do what he was told now.

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All or nothing, anything
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He approached his new lord, who tapped him twice with his wand, while muttering something incomprehensible. Then, agony.

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Ecstasy's the birthright of our gang
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Fire, burning his arm, and a blemish appeared against his translucent skin. Black as the night he'd seen from his bedroom window.

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We'll take the whole shebang
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Applause filled the room. Draco was one of them now. His lord approached him, and whispered in his ear. He gave Draco a mask, and his first command.

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Free your heart of guilt and shame
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Draco bowed his head in compliance. He would do what was necessary. =#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#

Come and claim what's yours
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And when he had done all he could do, he would get what he deserved.

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The whole shebang

We'll take the whole shebang
All or nothing, anything
Ecstasy's the birthright of our gang
We'll take the whole shebang
Free your heart of guilt and shame
Come and claim what's yours
The whole shebang

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