All a Father Could Teach
Warning: HBP SPOILERS!
[A/N: For MNFF’s monthly challenge #3: a one-shot using the theme choices or betrayal from Undividable410, Slytherin house.]
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The hands on his arms tightened their grips as the aurors led him through the corridors of the prison. His trial had gone badly for him. He had been found guilty of all charges against him; attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore; attempted murder in the second degree of both Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley; use of the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta, who worked at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade; and the kidnapping and torture of Ginevra Weasley. The outcome wasn’t at all surprising to him, though, as the accusations had all been correct. He regretted all of his actions, but to the Wizengamot regret wasn’t enough for redemption.
The aurors led him down another long corridor of cells. Many of these cells contained faces he recognized. Other Death Eaters, all being punished for their poor choices, their bad decisions. Some had been in situations very similar to his own. Situations where they thought they had no choice. The Dark Lord had threatened to kill their loved ones. Others in the cells had chosen to act of their own free will and were proud of their actions. They had all had choices; they just made the wrong ones, and now they would all suffer the same fate.
He reflected back to his first bad choice. It was the reason he was there, held by aurors, sentenced to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. It had been nearly a year and a half since the Dark Lord had called for a meeting with him. Having been eager to please the man he had been raised to worship, he had accepted a task and joined the ranks of the Death Eaters.
He failed the mission and was forced into hiding for months before the Dark Lord had found him. He was punished and given a second task, the task of kidnapping. This time he succeeded, but the Dark Lord’s plans had not gone as expected. His master deserted him and he was imprisoned.
They turned another corner and continued through the winding halls. The Death Eaters had shown him the wrong path when he was a young child, and now he had followed them down it to the depressing end. He wanted to return to Hogwarts, but even if he wasn’t in Azkaban, he wouldn’t’ be accepted at the castle. He had betrayed too many people there, both teachers and students. He had placed them all into great danger by escorting a large group of Death Eaters into the castle a little less than a year ago.
Though the Dark Lord had threatened to kill his family if he didn’t complete the task, he had chosen to allow himself to be blackmailed. He had chosen to take on the lethal task. He had chosen to send the cursed necklace to Dumbledore. (The necklace never made it to the headmaster, but instead took effect on Katie Bell who had to be sent to Saint Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for months afterwards.) He had chosen to tell Rosmerta to poison the mead Professor Slughorn had bought as a Christmas gift for Dumbledore. (Slughorn never sent the gift and instead Ron Weasley had drunk some and was poisoned, only to be saved by Harry Potter.) He had chosen to bring the Death Eaters into the castle that night. He had chosen to simply stand by and watch as Snape murdered Dumbledore.
He stumbled slightly as he tripped on an uneven stone on the floor. The night the headmaster had died, he had chosen to run away. He had chosen to hide. He began to feel sick, weak, and tired as he reflected on his choices. He dragged his feet as they continued through the prison.
When his master had finally found him, he had chosen to accept the second task. He had chosen to go back to Hogwarts; he had chosen to trick Ginny, to kidnap her. He had chosen to torture her with the Cruciatus Curse, while the Dark Lord fought Potter.
He had chosen this path, to find it only lead him down dark, damp, twisting halls.
“Draco…” a voice spoke to him from one of the cells in from of them to the right.
He looked up and saw his father, who had been arrested nearly 2 years earlier. “Father…” His voice was weak and small. He could barely hear himself. It was when he saw Lucius Malfoy that he remembered for the first time since receiving his first task from his master, the things his father had taught him. Though he had been told that the Dark Lord was his master and all muggle-borns were nothing more than mudblood scum, his father had also shared with him some words of wisdom. The words echoed through his head as he looked at the man who had said them. “One wrong choice, Draco, and you could end it all. You must be careful.”
How many times had he heard those words and not fully understood what they meant? When he was first entering Hogwarts; “Do not mention the Dark Lord while you are there, Draco. We don’t want to be caught. One wrong choice could end it all. Be careful.” When the Chamber of Secrets had been reopened in his second year; “Keep a low profile. We don’t want anyone suspecting you. Let the heir do its job. Be careful, whatever you do. One choice could wreck everything.” Again at the Quidditch World Cup before his fourth year at Hogwarts; “There’s a large group of Death Eaters here and we are planning on, shall we say, putting on a little show. Your mother and I want you to go in the woods. Stay there and be careful. Don’t forget one wrong decision and we all could be caught.” Then at the end of his fourth year, the Dark Lord had risen again and called the Death Eaters back to rejoin him. “You have to be more careful now than ever before. You don’t want to do anything that will get you thrown in Azkaban.” He heard them once more when he had visited his father for the first time in prison. “I chose wrong. I made some major mistakes while planning the raid. I told you one wrong choice could end it all. Don’t make the same mistakes I have. Be careful, Draco.”
And now for the first time, he actually understood what his father had meant. He had chosen to join the Dark Lord. He had chosen wrong.
The aurors dragged him into a cell and locked him in. He now had the rest of his life to go over his choices and his father’s words. They were, after all, all a father could teach.
[A/N: I have written a prequel, A Second Task
to this one-shot for those who would like to read it.]