The night I got my dark mark was also the night I lost my honor. I still remember the sharp pain when he pressed his wand into my arm. It felt like an electric shock going all through my body. Then the horrible tattoo showed and was imprinted forever onto me. I didn't want to be symbolic of one of the Dark Lords henchmen. Even the deepest cuts and scratches couldn't remove what was done. I was chosen for the dark deed of killing our headmaster at Hogwarts, but I failed miserably.
Which I accepted because I felt wanted, I felt like I could succeed at something and everyone would value me for it. I accepted because the Dark Lord told me that he would kill me, that he would kill my family. I wanted to, I needed to protect them. I failed, I failed like I always do. I couldn't do it. Even when they were all there, and when it was finally my time to excel. I'd let them down. I couldn't live with myself either way, rather I killed Dumbledore or not. I'd always be filled with regret.
The night Fred Weasley died, my heart ached more than ever. I couldn't help but feel like I was the reason he died. I made sure to hide in the back while I attended his funeral, careful not to be seen. And after everyone had left, I lingered for a bit. I'd never let on that I secretly thought the twins were funny, and that I was truly sorry I'd been a part of the reason Fred died. I felt that way in regards to everyone that had been hurt and lost in the war. I could barely get up the courage to go to Fred's funeral, let alone any else's. And I'll never tell anyone I was there that day, I'll never admit to it.
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Draco's World
Fanfiction"My name is Draco Malfoy, the world through my perspective is a little different to the rest..."
