Chapter Text
He had done it all, finally.
He had played the part of the perfect son.
He had taken the mark, he had not been what Dumbledore expected.
He had gotten the elder wand in the duel he won, claiming it from the old man's corpse.
He had taken Voldemort next. He knew not that he'd return, separating, like a ghost, from Potter no less.
They had taken his mother's head, as a motivator, they said.
They knew not that he was only waiting it out.
They knew not that he had figured out Voldemort was going to return from all that he found both in the Malfoy mansion and the Black and Lestrange vaults back when he wasn't even a student.
He had played the part of a stupid brat all his life. It was his mother's one and only request; to never draw unwanted attention.
Too bad she was gone. His only leash was gone before he could even stay a first week at Hogwarts and yet he persevered for all these years. He never wanted it this way, but what could he do? His mother raised him better than to show all his cards. He had no choice but to gather, be it knowledge or skills.
Truly tragic that he started to do just that, show his true nature, a true snake.
He knew all of the family magic, the rituals, the potions, inventions etc. More importantly, he knew how to successfully use any one of them.
“Foolish boy!” Voldemort raged, but Draco, he had already filled the last requirement.
He had killed the most prominent power houses of both the dark and the light side. It matters not that one resurrected.
So Draco took the twin daggers from his robes and he stabbed a little above both his knees simultaneously, dragging the daggers upwards. That was it, he was going to succeed. The spell was already murmured, earth was splitting apart. Here, at Hogwarts, he was going to be reborn.
And then it was black.