Shadows

Lucius' sweet smile contrasted the tone of his voice like day and night. It made Draco feel very sick. He tried to get up and join his two friends. He had to prevent them from spilling everything; from ruining what little hope there was left. Lucius, however, was quicker, and as soon as Draco had moved an inch his father's cane landed on his shoulder, sending waves of pain through his entire body.

"You stay exactly where you are, boy!" his father hissed at him.

Trying to ignore the pain, Draco regretfully sat down once more and leaned back. For a second he let himself revel in the feeling of pain. Each day he longed to feel anything for just a moment. Anything to let him know that he was still alive and not a shell that just existed. Even if that emotion was pain.

Lucius resumed his position at the window and stared out of it. Draco followed his gaze. He longed to be outside, to be somewhere else.

"A little while ago I heard a disturbing rumour," started Lucius of softy. "I am a man who believes there is no smoke without a fire, so behind every rumour must be a truth. Of course the nature of this particular rumour was very strange to me indeed. It seemed that my own son had delegated his assignments to two of his fellow classmates. Assignments that were supposed to be carried out by none other than Draco himself. At first I naturally assumed this to be false since no son of mine would entrust work that is filled with so much honour, and thereby disobey his rightful Lord and Master."

Lucius paused and seemed to consider what he would say next. Draco's heart was beating a mile a minute. His hands were sweating and shook uncontrollably. Filled with fear, he glanced at his two friends who were nodding like they understood what Lucius was going on about. For an instant he felt jealous. To be that blissfully ignorant could sometimes be such a blessing.

"Naturally, I decided to find out if the rumours were true. So I made up a little test to make sure I knew my son's capabilities. And to my great surprise the very important assignment, devised by me, was indeed carried out by my son's friends."

Draco was overcome by fear. His father did not only know, but had caught him in the act. How could he make him understand that he could not kill? Killing was a messy business that he preferred to leave to others.

"Now, you two boys would never lie to Uncle Lucius, would you?"

Crabbe and Goyle shook their heads fervently under Lucius' strong gaze. Draco could barely suppress a snort. Uncle Lucius? Now there was a good joke.

"Say it!" Lucius hissed. "Say: No, Uncle Lucius."

"No, Uncle Lucius."

The idiots. If Draco had not been certain that they would be punished later anyway, he would have gotten up this instant to do it himself personally. The two stupid gits did not even recognize a trap if it was spelled out before them. Completely useless. And Lucius knew it. He used it and ridiculed them at the same time. And what was worse is that they did not even notice it.

"So, is what Uncle Lucius just told the truth?"

"Yes, Uncle Lucius. It is the truth."

Lucius smiled brightly. "Good boys," he said with a sugary-sweet voice. "You are dismissed now and can get something to eat in the kitchen."

Beaming happily, Vincent and Crabbe left the study as quickly as they could. As soon as the massive door closed behind them a tense silence filled the room. Holding his breath Draco nervously awaited his father's impending explosion.

"You failed me once again!" Cold and harsh was Lucius' voice as it echoed through the room.

Draco cringed and bowed his head in shame. This was the second time in his entire life that he had done something that severely disappointed his father. The first time was the refusal to join the Death Eaters. But now that that little incident had been corrected he still managed to hurt the man he loved above anyone else.

"That assignment was meant for you! And you alone. Instead you left it to those two bloody oafs. And naturally they screwed it up. The Muggleborn wizard they were supposed to neatly kill was completely disfigured and left out in the open. But their incompetence did not end there at all. They left the parchment with the assignment at the scene of the crime along with some personal items of theirs that link them back to the gruesome event that took place. Unfortunately, the Aurors arrived before we had a chance to clean up, which means that your two little friends will not be joining you on your return to school."

Draco refused to look up at his father and stared intently at his shaking hands. He had failed. Malfoys were not allowed to fail.

"I think I do not have to begin to explain how disappointed I am in you. You are my son and, on top of that, a Malfoy. This should never have happened in the first place. I have one last assignment for you, son." His father looked at him pointedly. Draco could read the sorrow in those eyes and the disappointment. "This is the last chance our Lord is willing to give to you." Lucius laughed coldly. "You will have to kill what is in cell 233."

"Lucius!" Finally the man in the cloak spoke. "You cannot give him that job, you can't. He is only a child himself."

Filled with awe Draco stared at the man who dared to defy his father. His voice was so achingly familiar.

"How dare you question my punishments? He is my son and I'll punish him in a way that will make Our Lord proud."

"Cell 233 is special and you know that just as well as I do, Lucius. It is not a normal kill. It is a pureblood and, therefore, the business of Riddle."

Tension filled the air. Pureblood? They wanted him to kill a pureblood?

Suddenly he recognized the voice. Snape. That was the man hidden under the cloak. His favourite teacher. The man who understood him, who cared for him like nobody else had done. Why was he a Death Eater? Why did he not run from the horrible mess that dared to call himself Lord Voldemort? His last hope was shattered. If even Snape was tainted, than he was certainly doomed.

"Well, as it seems that my son is unable to do a normal killing, maybe a special one will do the trick. And Our Lord gave permission, even admired my brilliance."

Lucius seemed beyond anger, unable to control his voice.

"Goyle! Escort my son to cell 233 and make sure you do not let him out unless he has killed what is inside! Once it is done he will also clear up his own mess."

Roughly, Goyle grabbed Draco by his arm and pulled him out of the room. Anxiously, he tried to keep up as he heard the angry arguing voices of his father and favourite teacher fade slowly in the distance. Down and down they descended, deeper and deeper into the dungeons below Malfoy Manor. Finally they stood still in front of a large and barred wooden door.

"I'll be back in an hour," said Goyle Senior. "Make sure you are done by then. I do not want to find anything left."

With those words Goyle pushed him inside the cell and closed the door behind him.

*~*

Opening his eyes he was once more faced with the reality of the situation. In front of him stood a miniature image of himself dressed in Muggle clothing. His brain started to scream. No. No. No, this could not be his final test. They could not force him to do this. This was absolute cruelty. Desperately, he closed his eyes. Maybe if he focused strongly enough, the child would disappear. A child; a mere child. And not even a Muggle child; no, it was a pureblood child. How could they do this to him? He had never killed before; he had always found a way out of it. And now his last resort to life was a mere child. A small child he would be forced to kill so he could live. Slowly he opened his eyes again and looked straight into a pair of blue eyes.

Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Just focus.

Repeating the same mantra over and over again, he just stood there mesmerized, staring at the child. He could not be older than four years. His white-blond hair and blue eyes were a point of light in the darkness surrounding them. It was as if he was looking into a window, a window to his own past. Memories floated around his mind, broke free from the prison inside and filled him once again. This was just too cruel. This could not be his punishment. He felt numb inside. Numb with three years of pretending that he was still the same old Draco. Numb with pretending that he actually wanted to be here. Numb with pretending to still be alive when he could feel nothing inside.

Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Just focus.

He longed for pain. He longed for the sensation that would make him feel alive, that would remind him that he still existed. That would tell him that he was not entirely dead yet. Which was, of course, a pity. He should have died that day. He should have died the day they forced him to become a Death Eater. He should have maintained his stand; he should never have let them win. But he did and they won. They won and now he was one of them. One of the people who were determined to make this world look like hell in order to create heaven. Pulling himself together he muttered: "You can do this!"

Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Just focus.

He closed his eyes and focused on the two small words that would get him out of here; that would assure his survival. Avada Kedavra.> Two small, but significant, words. He only had to say them and this nightmare would be over. For now at least, a little voice inside his head nagged. It would only bring other problems. They would assume he would be able to kill. Once he had killed, more killings would surely follow. It was all just one great journey into the mounts of hell. He could spare the child, of course. The very thought startled him. A Malfoy actually saving a victim. His ancestors would turn in their graves. Not to mention his father. He could see Lucius turning all shades of red, eventually resulting in purple when he would find out his precious son, his mini-version, had actually saved one of their victims. He had to do this; he had to kill. Just two small words.

Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Keep breathing. Just focus.

"Who are you?" he snarled as he finally opened his eyes. He couldn't do it.

The child just looked at him without fear. "I am Lucas. Who are you?"