For MNFF monthly fanfiction contest. Challenge number 4, a one shot using the sentence "You could have been a soldier in Voldemort's army, instead you choose oblivion." By dreamergirl5, Hufflepuff.
Blaise stared out the mist-glazed window. The iridescent moon light illuminated the grounds. In the day, the grounds were quite lovely. Exotic flowers bloomed in all corners of the garden; there were tall trees as a boundary line. Blaise wiped his hand across the glass. The glass was clear and he could see everything on the ground. The shadowy figures scurrying across the ground should have bothered him, but he knew what was coming. He spun his chair around to face the door.
As he waited, Blaise’s mind drifted toward his father.
He could never fit the mold of what his father wanted from him. He would never be the perfect son, though this fact did not come without his failed attempts. He had, under his father's orders, followed in Draco Malfoy’s shadow for his time at Hogwarts. He was ordered to become close to Draco, as Draco was to be a future Death Eater. So was Blaise. Blaise gazed over his room.
He was content with it, but his father wasn’t. He could always do better; nothing was good enough. Blaise would never be good enough for his father, and his father made sure he knew that. Much like Draco’s future, Blaise’s fate was set before he was born. He was to be a wizard, get top marks in school and finally become a Death Eater. There was no room for argument. Blaise had never had a problem with the plan. That was, until it came to becoming a Death Eater. Blaise was not sure he was fit to be a Death Eater. He had played the part of bad boy at school with Draco, but both he and Draco knew there was more to it.
Blaise and Draco had formed a bond beyond what their parents had planned, a deep friendship that, if their parents were not careful, would rise up in defiance. Neither of them truly wanted to be a Death Eater. Yes, they wanted the glory and power, but they doubted that they could kill to obtain it. Draco had already faced that challenge and failed. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore as part of his mission, but could not. Blaise understood that, despite his dislike for Dumbledore, he could never kill him. Death was a fate that everyone would have to meet, but Blaise was not going to do the introducing.
The hall outside his room was filled with raging footsteps, and Blaise knew why they were coming. It had only been a week earlier that Blaise was offered a position as a Death Eater. He remembered the elated expression on his father's face.
***
“Blaise, my son, tonight the Dark Lord presented us with a most gracious honor. He has requested that join his ranks. Knowing your ambition to be a Death Eater, I told him that you would be privileged to receive your mark,” his father said stiffly, though the excitement burned in his eyes. It was not like him to show emotion.
“But, sir, I had not yet decided if I was going to become a Death Eater.” Blaise held his rage; he had not given his consent for his father to doom his future.
“We agreed a long time ago that this was to be your future, end of discussion. You will receive your mark in a week’s time.” His father strode from the library leaving Blaise to ferment in his anger.
***
The door to his bedroom burst open. In swept five cloaked Death Eaters. Without revealing their faces, Blaise knew four of them. There was his father, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix, but he could not identify the last one.
“Hello,” he greeted them lightly. His hands were folded and resting relaxed in his lap. His father stepped out from the group. He could tell it was his father by his authoritative stature. His father’s wand was directed right at his heart. Blaise was not nervous, he had expected this turn out. Death did not scare him, not as much as submitting to the life of a Death Eater. His father’s mask covered all but his eyes and mouth. His eyes glinted with a fury Blaise had seen not two days before.
***
Blaise laid reading on his bed. There was nothing to be said between him and his father. The hate they felt for each other ran too deep for conversation. The silence that sliced through them at dinner only confirmed this fact. His father rarely spoke to him, and when he did, his words dripped with disgust. It was Blaise’s seventeenth birthday, and as expected, his father did not notice. There was a loud pounding at his door.
“Come in,” Blaise yelled. His father stormed into the room.
“The Dark Lord is not pleased with your refusal of his offer,” his father fumed.
“Well, I am sorry that he feels that way, but at this moment it is not for me to be his servant.” Blaise knew he was treading on thin ice, but this fact did not bother him. Everyone was going to die anyway he thought he’d have some fun before he went. He knew that he would risk dying if he joined the Death Eaters. And the simple fact was, Death Eaters' ideas of fun, such as killing was not Blaise’s idea of a good time.
“Do not speak that way to me!” he bellowed, pointing his wand at Blaise. Blaise continued to flip nonchalantly through this book. There was no avoiding his father's rage. He had tried to be respectful and do whatever it was his father wanted, but that had yet to produce results. Blaise had come of age and no longer had to listen to his father. Blaise sighed and tossed his book aside.
“Father, would you please leave? I am tired and wish to sleep.” Blaise knew he had pushed the final button. His father stormed to the door. He paused before shutting it.
“You will regret your choice,” he hissed in a menacing tone. Blaise did not doubt his father would be back, but he was going to be ready.
***
“I told you, I knew you would regret your choice of turning down the Dark Lord. This is your final chance, Blaise, though you do not deserve it.” His father edged closer.
“Oh, I don’t regret it. Not in the least, in fact, I am rather pleased with my decision,” Blaise said, twirling his wand in his fingers.
“Finish him off and let it be done with,” someone hissed from behind his father. Blaise knew who it was: Lucius Malfoy.
“No, I want someone else to do it,” he paused before his lips pursed in a malicious smile. He turned around and ushered a Death Eater forward. This was the Death Eater that Blaise could not seem to identify. “Draco.”
“Hello, my school friend,” Blaise said. “Murdered anyone lately?” He asked cruelly.
“No, but I think I am well over due.” Draco raised his wand toward his ex-friend. “You could have been a soldier in Voldemort’s Army. Instead, you choose oblivion“. Voldemort, the word rang in Blaise’s ear. Blaise smiled inwardly, he knew exactly what was going on. Blaise slipped his hands behind his head and slipped a piece of parchment off the desk.
Suddenly Draco spun on his heel and faced the Death Eaters. Blaise had joined his side. They were out numbered, there was no way that they could escape, but they were willing to fight to the death for a chance to be free. The Death Eaters had never planned on their defiance. They had also not planned on members of the Order of the Phoenix coming out from the closet and under the bed. There were nine Order members, including Draco and Blaise, versus the four Death Eaters. The Death Eaters had made an unfortunate choice and had decided to fight.
Blaise and Draco had never intended to walk out of it alive, but to their surprise, half an hour later they were walking out of the house and onto the grounds. It had begun to rain sometime during the battle. Though the Order did not lose any members, one had been seriously injured. It was the Death Eaters who had suffered the most.
Blaise stood hovering over his fathers quivering body, all time seemed to freeze as he stared down at him. He was weak and vulnerable, something Blaise was never allowed to be. Blaise struggled to find the words to end the miserable relationship he had had with his father. Blaise turned his head to the side to see Draco.
Draco had too cornered his father, and seething with rage and resentment he said the words Blaise felt he could never say, Avada Kedavra. The realization came to Blaise in that moment. If he did not end it now, the power struggle with his father would never truly end and he would forever be on the run. Clinging to that thought, Blaise raised his wand and ended the foolish mans life. Bellatrix managed to escape, but would one day be found. The rain fell ceaselessly on the pair as they strode over the grounds. It was then that Blaise and Draco were finally free, on their own terms. Although the parchment that fell from his desk would never be seen again, Blaise would never forget the words it had said.
Blaise, you have made a wise choice, and we will be there to support you. We would hope that you convince Draco as well, but if not, then we regret the loss. Until we meet.
To most, those words wouldn’t mean much, but to Blaise, those words would be his salvation. He had contacted the Order and joined their side. Somewhere inside of him he had always known he wouldn’t join the Death Eaters. It was just in the Slytherin nature to back the winning side.