Draco Malfoy was lying perfectly still in the middle of a large four-poster bed. The room was richly furnished, with ornately carved wood lining the walls, and thick hangings framing the bed and windows. You couldn’t see these details however, as the lights were off and the curtains closed, letting in only a sliver of moonlight which brushed across the boy’s face. The way the light washed all the colour from him made him look like a corpse, but he was far from it: his mind was alive with activity, as he contemplated the path that had just that evening been laid out before him.
He thought back to the unexpected visitor who had arrived at their house only a few hours ago, bringing with him a deathly hush and a string of words that would stay with Draco for the rest of his life. His father’s unfortunate absence meant that only he and his mother had inhabited the large house since he had returned from school for the summer, so the apparition at his doorstep was therefore greeted by his mother who, surprised as she was to see him, was even more shocked when his high, clear voice demanded to see Draco.
Draco had been summoned, and he remembered supressing the shudder of horror he felt when laying eyes on the Dark Lord for the first time. The taut white skin and blank space where his nose should have been were nothing compared to those haunting red eyes, which told Draco they knew of the revulsion he felt. He regarded him differently now of course: now that he knew of the important role he was to play in the Dark Lord’s quest for the purification of the wizarding world. If he managed to do this right, maybe he would rise further than his father ever had. He knew which particular Mudblood he would want to rid the world of, and he briefly pictured the crying, squirming girl at his feet, completely at his mercy for the first and last time in her life.
His mind returned to the Dark Lord’s visit and the orders he had been given. As he had walked into the room and seen his mother’s carefully expressionless face, he wondered what had happened. Was it his father? Had he been released from Azkaban? He remembered feeling hostile to this thought, and wondered why. The Dark Lord had spoken then, cutting into Draco’s thoughts as though his voice was a steel blade. “Ah, Draco, how much I have heard about you.” He didn’t ask him to sit down. “I wonder how much you know about me.” Draco didn’t know if it was a question or not. He glanced hesitantly at his mother, who stared straight ahead at the wall, not making eye contact. The Dark Lord didn’t seem to want an answer however, as he went on. “I have come here for one reason. I assume you are aware that your father failed me last month, resulting in his imprisonment in Azkaban, and your family’s consequent fall from the grace of the Ministry of Magic.” The last three words were uttered with an air of contempt and amusement riddled into one.
Draco cleared his throat. “Yes, my Lord.”
The Dark Lord rose and started to pace the room. “I turn to you now, hoping you will right your father’s wrong and restore respect to your family. I am willing to grant your family clemency, if you manage to complete the task I now set you.”
Draco wondered where his voice had gone. He was never scared by anyone, so why had his throat closed up, not allowing any sound out except a strangled grunt? His mother, silent and motionless up to this point, shifted uncomfortably, not taking her eyes from the stone wall opposite. The Dark Lord seemed not to notice her unease however, and continued pacing the room.
“I believe there is one thing, and one thing alone, that is preventing me from total power over our world. This must be removed before we can truly begin the process of purification and the enhancement of the magical community. I want you to remove it. I am assigning you the task of defeating this obstacle, as you are in a unique position: one not even my most cherished Death Eaters can possibly infiltrate.”
Draco’s heart was beating hard against his ribs, a bird desperately trying to break through the bars of its cage. Could the Dark Lord be referring to his place at Hogwarts? What was this “obstacle” he had to get rid of? Before he could begin to ask questions the Dark Lord spoke again.
“If you succeed you will be honoured above all. If you succeed, your family will rise beyond anything you could have hoped for.”
“And what is the obstacle, my Lord?”
“Albus Dumbledore.”
His heart was pounding now, like a horse’s hooves hitting the ground as it canters towards a finish line. “You want me to kill”"
“By any means necessary.” The finality in his voice showed that there would be no argument. The Dark Lord turned, looking expectantly at Narcissa who hurried to open the door, and escorted him out.
Draco stood in silence, watching the door and listening to the footsteps fade into the distance. So he had to kill Professor Dumbledore, the man who he had always hated, who had never bothered to protect or even distinguish pure magical blood, and the man who had got his father sacked from the school’s board of governors, thus initiating the gradual decline of the name of Malfoy. If he managed this, the Dark Lord would no doubt install a Death Eater, or at the very least a Slytherin, as Headteacher: someone who would instil the values of true wizard kind, banning the Mudbloods and blood traitors, half-giants and ‘chosen ones’ from the school. Draco imagined himself favoured by all the teachers, set above everyone in the school, renowned for bringing about the greatest revolution Hogwarts had ever seen. He savoured the small smile that flitted across his lips, and then awoke from the daydream in a start as his mother walked in.
She looked at him, anxiety brimming like tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry Draco,” she whispered. “There’ll be a way. We can get you out of this, I’m sure if your father talks”"
“Father’s not here though is he? He’s in AZKABAN, and stop pretending that he isn’t!” Narcissa stared at him in wounded silence and he felt a hot rush of rage sweep through him. “JUST STOP TRYING TO PRETEND THAT EVERYTHING’S NORMAL! Even when Father does get out no one’s going to forget what he did, how he failed to beat Potter! I’m going to do this. I can be better than him! I don’t want people to think of me as his son: I want to be the person who made the pure society possible. I want nothing to do with him."
“Draco”"
“JUST SHUT UP! DON’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!” Draco stormed out of the door, heading back to his bedroom, kicking over furniture, and terrifying the house elf who had been quietly polishing the frame of an old family portrait.
He slammed the door of his bedroom closed, the echoing smack reverberating through the large, empty house. Kicking the hard wooden bedpost until he was rewarded with a sharp pain in his foot, he threw himself onto the bed. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so angry, but was unable to control the hot tears of frustration that unwillingly seeped from his eyes.
Ever since he discovered that his father had been sent to Azkaban, Draco had felt nothing towards him. That he could be so foolish to have both been beaten by Potter (whom Draco had beaten several times before) and to let himself be caught by the Ministry was disgusting. What scorn and mirth would Draco himself have to face when he returned to school and everyone knew of his father’s idiocy? He might as well be a blood traitor.
Now, however, he had been offered a chance of redemption: the chance to prove that he was not worthless, that he valued the new world that was to be built. Why did his mother not understand how important this was, how generous the Dark Lord was being? He would be valued above all, more powerful than either of his parents, and vital in not only encouraging the purification of wizarding society, but in the downfall of Dumbledore and his favourite, Harry Potter. Ignoring, for the time being, the fact that he would actually have to kill this great wizard, Draco thought about what he would do when he ascended to power, contemplating things he could force others to do and the people he could have revenge over. With these thoughts in his head he fell asleep, and it wasn’t until much later that he realised just how difficult this task was really going to be.
Ambition's Downfall by goldensnidget92
Story Notes:
Chapter 4 on its way!
Chapter Notes: An unexpected visitor arrives at Malfoy Manor.