Draco had come to you late at night, shaken and unable to sleep. This had become a commonality since the beginning of seventh year, it’s like he had turned into a different person over the summer holidays.

You'd assumed he'd been cheating, that was genuinely the worst thing you could think of. That Pansy had weaseled her way back into Draco’s brain. It would explain things; how he’s been avoiding you like the plague, his tanking grades for the first time in forever, dropping his place on the Quidditch team when he loves the sport. Not this, never this.

Draco sits nervously on the edge of your bed, face ashen with anxiety, one hand clutching his arm almost like he’s wounded. “I… I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to think that I was doing it all by choice, because I don’t. I don’t have a choice. I have to do this.”

He turns slowly, and the haunted look in his eyes makes your heart ache, like the weight of the world has been crushing him. His lips press into a thin line as if battling himself, before finally, he holds out his left arm and drags up the sleeve of his nightshirt.

A Dark Mark. The sight almost makes your heart stop, your stomach dropping, the weight of what it means crashing down on you like a mountain slide.

Draco can’t even look at you, his grey eyes fixed on the floor. “He- He’s given me a task.” His voice breaks, his bottom lip trembling. “He’s ordered me to kill Dumbledore, and if I don’t do it, then he’s going to kill me.”