Prologue
Lucius Malfoys knees already began objecting to their rather hard encounter with the dungeon floor on which he was kneeling. In front of him the Dark Lord was prowling up and down, and though no one could ever question his lifelong support to Voldemort, Lucius felt deeply uneasy. He felt, rather than know, that he would not like what his master was planning to do and most of his attempts to find out had been - up to know - about as useless as trying to make his food appear out of thin air.
Though he was now close to finding out, he felt no better for it because now he knew for sure what was coming.
Draco... His only son and greatest treasure of all used as a puppet to do the Dark Lords bidding was not exactly what he had hoped for when he signed on so many years ago. Lucius allowed himself a moment to drift off in memories all of which were about his son. His wife of course, knew Draco so much better than he. It had been without conscious thought that he had never shown any real sign of affection, or in the words of others weakness, around Draco. It had been like that for all the male descendants of the Malfoy family as if it were a family tradition to be held high. It was only lately that he had begun to wonder if he had made the right choice in doing so...
His return to the dungeon was abrupt when Voldemort swooped down upon him and gazed at him through the slit like pupils Lucius had begun to contempt, and at times even hate now that he knew what plans were hidden behind the scarlet of the eyes.
"Are you ready Lucius???" hissed the voice in his ear.
He knew there was only one right answer to the question, at least if he wanted to live through the night...