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I mean honestly, why should I become a Death Eater? It makes no sense. They are simply not Malfoys, and I am a Malfoy.

I straightened my collar and looked around the room. I had made a decision that my father wouldn't expect, and I planned to stick to it. I went to my desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, and started writing a letter.

"Dumbledore,

I know you know that I don't think much of you, however I do think you are fighting for the right side. I have decided, with my own mind, to join you in your fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be -Named. I know more than you probably do about some of the inside workings of his society, and would like to offer you my information in exchange for allowing me to help you in your fight against the Death Eaters and their master. I would appreciate it if you would keep this silent as I am still living under my father.

Yours sincerely,

D.M."

I dried the ink, then rolled up the note and went to my owl, giving her the parchment. "To the old fool, you know how to get there," I whispered, and opened my window for her. She opened her wings and swept out of the room in a flurry and I wondered what on earth Dumbledore would think of what I was doing. Perhaps he would think I was mad. Perhaps he would be right.

I sat down on my bed and started organizing my thoughts in my head. I needed to think like a dogooder, and I wasn't used to that in the least. I'd have to stop using the phrase Mudblood at the very least...

The first thing I should do, I knew, was to...