Ok, so I started writing this story after reading HBP, then after reading DH I felt the need to go back and write some more. As I couldn't stand the fact that Dumbledore got killed, this is set before he died. The story will be set in the present with trips down memory lane into Tom Riddle's past. Right then enough of the babble and on we go...

Two nights ago

Up on the seventh floor deep within Hogwarts castle, Albus Dumbeldore sat behind his desk, arms resting lightly on the solid oak wood, his palms pressed gently together and his blue eyes staring absentmindedly at his long thumb nails. He sat deep in thought, troubled slightly after having just received news from a source, that disturbed him greatly, and was quite unsure of what steps to take next. He knew of course that Voldemort was capable of many things, but not even Dumbledore had believed the horror that had been repeated to him just minuets ago.

Without thinking about it, he reached for some parchment and quill and began to write a short letter

Dear Harry,

I know it was only a few days ago we had our meeting, but something of great importance has arisen, and I would be great full if you could meet up with me as soon as is possibly convenient.

With greatest of regards

Albus Dumbledore

Satisfied with what he had wrote, he placed it in an envelope and handed it to Fawkes

"Take this to Harry my friend" he said softly and the phoenix instantly took flight.

Dumbeldore sat for a short while longer before finally raising to his feet, with a deep sigh he walked towards his office door and left. There were things that needed doing, even at this hour of the night, and Dumbledore knew sleep would not be close for many hours to come.

XXXXXX

Voldemort walked down the dark damp corridor, towards the room that held the key to his future. After loosing his body for over 13 years, he knew nothing could be taken for granted. Not that something like that would ever happen again, but it was always good to have a back up plan, no doubt he had six or them, but one more wouldn't hurt. He had planned this carefully many, many years ago, but with unforeseen circumstances that not even he had expected or seen coming. But now, after all those years his plans were finally coming together.

"How is she?" his cold voice echoed off the stone walls.

"As well as can be expected, My Lord" Lucius Malfoy answered, as he walked a few paces behind his master. "I mean…under the circumstances…She's scared, confused and extremely disorientated"

Voldemort nodded a fraction "That is to be expected Lucius…It will pass, and with each day she shall become stronger" or at least that was what he was hoping for.

"Yes My Lord" Lucius hesitated, wondering whether to ask the question that burned deep within.

He had of course known of his masters plans since he first started preparing for them more than six months ago, after all he was very high up in Voldemorts inner circle, but he, along with many others had not been informed as to why.

Why he had gone to such great lengths and for what possible purpose? It really was not his place to know why, or to question his Lords motives, but curiosity was beginning to get the better and his inquisitiveness harder to contain. Would the Dark Lord freely give him the information he so desired or, would he be punished for prying into matters that did not concern him. Before he could ponder upon his thoughts further Voldemort had stopped walking. Placing a long cold pale hand on Lucius's chest, bringing him to a sudden halt.

Voldemort's red eyes gazed across his minion's white pale features, as he eyed him with interest "You have something to say…Lucius?" It was clearly not a question, more of a demanding statement.

Lucius gave a small stiff smile, feeling a little ill at ease under his Masters cold scrutinizing glare. But never one to show weakness he quickly regained his composure "With all due respect My Lord, one is merely…curious."

Voldemorts expression did not change, and Lucius wondered if he had over stepped the line. Had he made his Master angry with his foolish thirst for knowledge or, would his slightly lifted sprits let him off, just this once?

He knew which he was hopping for, but the decision lay, ultimately in the hands of his lord.

After a brief agonising wait, Lucius found he could begin to relax slightly. To his immense relief Voldemorts thin lips contorted into a smirk and a cold emotionless laugh followed.

"Lucius…Lucius" His tone light.

Placing his hands firmly on each of Lucius's shoulders, The Dark Lord lowered his head, closing the gap between them and whispered "All in good time my friend, all in good time"

His cruel heartless laugh lingered only second's loner, before his cool hard demeanour returned "Now" He snapped, causing Lucius to flinch ever so slightly "Take me to her."

With a low bow of his head, Lucius obeyed "Yes My Lord."

Voldemorts long black cloak billowed behind him as he graciously entered the room. Showing no acknowledgment to Lucius who stood, holding open the large heavy door, as he strode past him with haste.

He watched on, as The Dark Lord scanned the room, noting the shear look of triumph that formed upon his snake like features, as his eyes rested on the girl. Lucius took a step forward to rejoin his Masters side, but stopped instantly when he held up his hand dismissively.

"Leave us." He hissed harshly, not taking his eyes off her.

Not needing to be told twice he obeyed and bowed his head once more "Of course My Lord" he said as he slowly backed out of the room, ushering himself over the threshold.

"Oh and Lucius" Voldemort called after him "Have your son at hand…His services shall be required."

"Yes My Lord" he replied with a slight frown at his Masters request, before quietly closing the door behind him.

Outside, he stood for a moment, with a slight look of confusion on his face, at the vast amount of unanswered questions that circulated around his mind. Who was she? Why was she here? And what exactly did he plan on doing with her? And now he needed his son. Why would he need Draco? What would be asked of him and to what purpose? These were just of few of his many thoughts he knew would remain untold until his Master saw fit to share the information he held so closely to his chest.

He straightened himself and with a small shake of his head, he went in search of his son.

XXXXXX

Draco Malfoy lay motionless on the rather hard uncomfortable bed that resided in a small dingy room that had been allocated him. Unlike the grand deluxe he was so accustomed to back home, this place however graced itself with nothing more than filth and a depressing feel of neglect. He had worked throughout the night, the rather tedious and extremely boring job of guard duty. Patrolling up and down the dimly light hallways that always seemed so cold and desolate. All night he had longed for the sleep that was supposed to come naturally at that god forsaken hour, then finally, and not a minuet too soon, dawn was upon them, and his replacement came to relieve him of duties.

He had been told, that under no circumstance could he go home, not until The Dark Lord gave permission to do so, and that was why he found himself stuck in a room, that really was so unfitting for a Malfoy.

Security had been the tightest he had known for a long time, ever since Voldemort brought her back here, and placed her in that room. No one, other than a select few where allowed within ten feet of that room, and Merlin help them, who were caught!

The disturbing images of two nights ago, had not, and would not leave his mind. If it hadn't been for the fact he held the Malfoy name Voldemort would never have allowed someone as unimportant as Draco to assist in something so great, but for the first time ever, he wished for that one night, he held another name.

What he had witnessed that night repulsed him more than he believed possible, even thinking of the sight he saw sent waves of cold shivers all around his body. What Voldemort had done was wrong, Draco knew that, but who was he to argue that fact, especially where The Dark Lord was concerned. Whatever he was planning, must have been big, no one would go through all of that, just to be reunited with an old friend. But as usual he knew nothing, and sometimes he found it the best way.

Draco had slept fitfully, for the past few hours. Dozing here and there. Tossing and turning, desperately trying to find comfort in such a old lumpy bed. It was no use, no matter how hard he tried; deep relaxing sleep seemed a million miles away. So he lay there, in the quiet that surrounded him with no more than his thoughts for company. He had often wondered how his life had turned out so drastically wrong. As a child he had seen himself with a bright and happy future. A career in quidditch, maybe captain for England. A healer, a professor, a potions researcher, maybe even Minister for magic, the possibilities were endless. But all his dreams and aspirations were to lead nowhere. He was to serve and devote his life to The Dark Lord whether he liked it or not. His father made sure of that.

He sighed heavily and wondered if he should give up completely and drag himself out of bed. Though he didn't have to contemplate for long as a loud pounding could be heard coming from his door.

"Draco…Draco are you in there?" came the familiar voice of his father.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to ignore the man he had grown to loath, but new better of it.

"Draco…Draco, open this retched door…NOW"

Draco heard the usual irritation that so often graced his fathers voice when addressing his son.

"I'm coming," he snapped getting off the bed and towards the door, opening it.

Lucius barged in, turning to face his son.

"Get yourself cleaned up," he snarled, taking in his son's rather unkempt appearance, "Your services are required"

Draco groaned inwardly "What am I needed for, father?" he asked tiredly running a hand through his unusually tangled hair.

"Do as you have been told, and you will soon find out, now get a move on…Or do you wish to be the one to explain to our Lord why he was kept waiting?" he snapped

Draco glared at him coolly "No father"

"Then I suggest Draco, you go take a shower, you're a disgrace." He spat with a look of disgust "You have ten minuets" with that he strode past him, knocking into his shoulder as he did so.

Draco stood rooted to spot, fists clenched and his jaw tight. Oh how he hated his father, and one day, one day he would show him just how much.