‘I haven’t got any options!’ said Malfoy, and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. ‘I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my whole family!’ ‘I appreciate the difficulty of your position,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you.’ Malfoy winced at the sound of the name.
Draco’s like snow, it’s cold and cruel to begin with, but it’s somehow beautiful, and you miss it when it’s not there. And if you hold it in your hands close enough and long enough, it changes. It melts