The Boy Who Lived

The Malfoy Mask

Although it sat at odds with his own hopeless situation, there were too many parallels too. He knew Potter was earmarked to kill the Dark Lord. Chosen. In much the same way that he'd been chosen to kill Dumbledore. What choice did either of them have? The difference was Potter had no 'Uncle Sev' to step in and finish the task for him because he couldn't do it. Potter had to be a killer. The fate of thousands, if not millions, depended on it; for when would the Dark Lord stop once he'd finished with Britain? He would have allies in Europe. The genocide would spread. And yes, he saw it for what it was, the genocide of millions of innocent people marked because they were 'different'.

He wondered how Potter felt about being Chosen. Did he have doubts too? He found he wanted to sit down and talk to him about it, to find out how Potter felt and to listen to what he had to say.

He wanted to share his own, very hidden, experience of the previous year.

Draco had finally admitted he wasn't a killer; really, he knew that as soon as the Dark Lord had told him his mission despite trying to pretend otherwise for a long time. He acknowledged it with all his heart as he stood on top of the Astronomy Tower with his wand shaking, telling Dumbledore that he had to do this when, really, all he was trying to do was convince himself. Draco knew that it wasn't the moment of glory he kept trying to claim, it was him trying to fool himself because he definitely wasn't a murderer. He was utterly unable to do the task that, if he failed, would end in his death and his parents' deaths too. And Dumbledore knew it too. He understood that Dumbledore could have easily disarmed him, instead, he let Draco take control. He offered him a life-line and, in doing so, Dumbledore's actions had saved Draco and his family in more than one way. That is, they were still alive. It wasn't much of a life; the family had definitely lost favour with the Dark Lord since his father's failure at the Ministry. But, most importantly, Dumbledore had saved Draco's soul from that darkness of taking another life that his mother had warned him about. He knew it would have forever tormented him if he'd gone through with it... So, his anger switched from Potter to the Dark Lord and his father, mostly his father for getting them into this situation. He understood that none of this mess was Potter's fault but rather, his father had brainwashed him with his hateful ideals from an early age so that it had once felt like an honour to take the Dark Mark and serve the Dark Lord.

He knew otherwise now.

Thereafter, it felt as if his eyes had been opened. He'd sat at the long formal dining table in Malfoy Manor, in his own home, and watched meeting after meeting with the Dark Lord meting out 'justice' or punishment with no apparent rationality behind his actions. There was no mercy, no matter how the judgement was passed. None of the mercy that Dumbledore had shown him as he stood shaking on top of the Astronomy Tower.

And as he watched Professor Burbage plead with Severus before being executed, he felt years of his father's indoctrination crumble away. She was just a woman who had different beliefs from Voldemort but that didn't mean she had to die just because she believed she should marry someone she loved. Her soulmate, no matter their blood status. His questioning kept coming back to that. Wasn't that more important? Why did they have 'soulmates', if Pureblood lineage was deemed more important? For surely Soulmate Magic was an older, more complex magic that was far more relevant to heritage than someone's poxy name and being part of 'The Sacred Twenty-Eight' - a stupid list that was written up in the 1930s. He wondered, briefly, if his parents thought about their true soulmates who were out there somewhere. He wondered if they felt that part of their lives was missing. Perhaps that's why his father had thrown himself so absolutely into Voldemort's cause; to hide the hollowness in his life.

Suddenly, he no longer hated Potter, or Granger, or the Weasleys, or any other poor sod who wasn't in Slytherin House or a Pureblood and didn't believe in the cause. Suddenly, Slytherin House no longer seemed an honourable House to be in. Being Pureblood wasn't an honourable association if this was what it meant. This wasn't superior or traditional. This was simply the mass-murder of huge swathes of innocent people who didn't fit with the Dark Lord's vision.