Extend the Story - Add a Room

My father was right. Of course he was right; he’d always been right. Since I was little, he had talked about how someday the Dark Lord would return. And he had. Some people may doubt, but I was certain of it. My father had been there when he’d returned.
I was rather proud of him—Father had been in the Dark Lord’s inner circle before he had been defeated by that pathetic Harry Potter. I really detested how he pranced around getting all the attention just because of some stupid scar on his face.
I groaned, sitting down on my bed irritably. Father hadn’t been right either. When I left school, I immediately asked him what it was like. He didn’t answer me, which surprised me—I would have thought he would have been happy that I showed interest. After all, he had wanted me to become a Death Eater all my life. But, no… Father just shoved me out of his study and shut the door with a gruff, “Go away, Draco.”
I’d never been more confused in all my life, and I didn’t like it. I sat there, fiddling with my quill pen, and looked out my window. My bedroom was on the fourth floor, and I got a nice sweeping view of the moors of Wiltshire. The sun was starting to sink below the horizon. My fingers brushed a spare piece of parchment on my bedside table, and then I sat up quite suddenly.
I didn’t like how my father had been acting lately, and I decided that, since doing what he expected didn’t make him happy, I’d do something utterly and completely unexpected.
I grinned, and thought on my options a minute before deciding that I would…

betray him and the other Death Eaters to Dumbledore.