Well, he came home from college just the other day So much like a man I just had to say "Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?" He shook his head and said with a smile "What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys See you later, can I have them please?"
"Welcome home, Draco," Narcissa smiled at her son and gave him a hug. "How are things going at Hogwarts?"
"Things are going very well, Mother. Professor Umbridge is the best thing that has ever happened to Hogwarts. She simply loathes Harry Potter- she makes him write lines over and over again with this pen which cuts into his hand and makes him write with his own blood. I overheard Potter telling the weasel and that Mudblood. Not to mention that she favours Slytherins even more than Professor Snape does."
He accepted a cold drink from the house-elf which had replaced Dobby and leaned against the wall with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Bloody Potter, Dumbledore's little pet. We fixed him good - they had this club they called Dumbledore's Army, but we could never catch them. Of course, we had our own club - the Inquisitorial Squad. We finally caught them after that Edgecombe turned on them and reported them to Professor Umbridge. I swear, that girl could probably have been in Slytherin if she hadn't been a half-blood. I tripped up Potter with a well placed Trip Jinx."
At that moment, Lucius Malfoy entered the room. Going over to Draco, he put his hand on his shoulder. "So my son is jinxing Potter? I'm proud of you, son. Why don't you sit down and tell me what else you have planned for young Mr. Potter? I'm sure the Dark Lord will be calling you into service quite soon."
Draco glared at his father, his steely eyes boring into the face which he was growing to resemble more every day. "Thank you, Father, but I think I had better go study for my NEWTs." With that he turned away and walked out of the room.
That was over two years ago. Even though time had passed, the memory still haunted him. If his father could see him now, what would he say? He probably would not recognize him. Sometimes Draco was shocked at his own reflection. He was in hiding, starving and frightened. Frightened that the Dark Lord would find him, frightened that the Ministry would find him, at times almost wishing for death. But death never came. Only hunger and loneliness.
He looked over at Severus, the man who had done what he could not. He had failed Voldemort, and he hoped to Merlin that his father would never find out about it.
He still remembered the day he received his Dark Mark and became one of Voldemort's Death Eaters.
Narcissa took Draco aside. He could see the sadness and fear in her eyes. "Draco, I have something to tell you. The Dark Lord wishes to see you."
Draco's eyes went wide in surprise, mirroring the fear in his mother's eyes. "He wants to see me?"
Narcissa nodded. "Rudolphus will be calling for you this evening to take you to him. Draco, when you are before the Dark Lord, show no sign of weakness. Do not let him see how scared you are. Do not fidget, do not look him in the eyes, and do not speak to him unless he speaks to you."
Later that evening Draco, dressed in his best dress robes, stood before Voldemort, his head bowed. The other Death Eaters gathered around, standing a respectful distance from Voldemort and Draco.
"Draco Malfoy, the time has come for you to receive the Dark Mark, and take your father's place in my servitude. Is this your wish?"
Draco said in a calm clear voice. "It is, my lord."
"Very well then. Remove your robes and I will place upon you my mark."
Draco stripped his robes off himself and waited. Voldemort paced around him, examining him, searching for any sign of weakness.
"You look so much like your father, Draco. So much like Lucius."
Voldemort's voice was unnerving. Draco could feel his skin crawling, but his expression remained stoic.
"Hold out your left arm, Draco Malfoy."
Draco held out his arm and Voldemort grabbed his wrist. Voldemort pointed his wand at his arm. "Morsmordre Incendio!"
The searing pain as the spell burned into his arm nearly caused Draco to falter, but he prided himself on being a Malfoy and as such he would not show signs of weakness.
Voldemort handed Draco a set of dark robes and a mask. "Put these on, Draco Malfoy, and join my circle. You are now a Death Eater."
Once Draco had dressed and joined the others, Voldemort turned to the group, but looked specifically at Draco. "I say this now for all to hear. Your first task as one of my Death Eaters will be to gain the rest of you entrance to Hogwarts, and to kill Albus Dumbledore."
Draco had known from the outset that he wouldn't be able to do it. He liked to bully people and to cause trouble, but he wasn't a killer. After Dumbledore had died that night, he had fled with Snape, refugees from both justice and injustice.
Severus never said much. His gaunt face was more pale and drawn than it ever had been during their years at Hogwarts. He suspected that the death of Dumbledore had taken more out of his former professor than he would ever let on, but he never discussed it and Draco never asked.
Sometimes he could hear Snape pacing when he thought that Draco was asleep, and there were times when he would call out in his sleep. But he would never ask. He had a feeling that he didn't want to know.
Draco sat on the threadbare mattress, his mind too mind too full to sleep. How did his life become like this? He often wondered what his life would have been like had his father cared about him, had been there for him, hadn't been who he was.
It didn't matter now. His father was in Azkaban and here he was, a Death Eater, just like his father had been.
And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon Little boy blue and the man on the moon When you comin' home son? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son You know we'll have a good time then