This is my first venture into the world of Harry Potter fanfiction as a writer. Needless to say, nothing that can be recognised belongs to me.

Prologue – May 2nd, 1998

Hogwarts

Draco pounded up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, breathing heavily and struggling to ignore the flashbacks to the last time he'd done this. It was ridiculous – absolutely ridiculous. Here they were, the Order of the Phoenix in full flight with the order given to hunt down and capture any of them left in the castle, and as he raced out of the Great Hall he'd been struck by the sudden realisation that this was wrong. So wrong. In that second, the space of time between one stride and the next, he formed half a plan – an insane plan – and by the time his foot hit the ground again, he'd realised that he needed to keep one of the Order alive. He had stopped at the bottom of the stairs beside Theodore Nott, with Granger disappearing up the way and Ginny Weasley dashing off in the direction of the boathouse, and he'd made a split second decision and raced upwards, leaving Theo to chase down the Weasley girl.

When he finally reached the top of the tower, she was standing in almost exactly the same position as Dumbledore had been, wand out and steady despite the terror on her face. He was almost sick on the spot, but managed to hold himself together long enough to take a few steps towards her, the irritating detached voice in the back of his skull wondering how the hell she'd planned to get out of here.

"I'll jump!" she warned. "One more step and I'll jump! You will not take me alive, Malfoy!" Draco stopped dead and held out a hand.

"Please don't." She paused.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, please don't. I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't want to hurt me? That's rich! In case you haven't noticed, we've been fighting on opposite sides of a battle for the last day!"

"I am beginning to dispute that, but regardless, now your side has lost and that won't end well for anyone. Your fighters are running, and your core is either captured of being hunted down. Please trust me – you and I can fix this, we just need some time." She was wavering, he could see, her eyes flicking from him to the edge of the tower.

"I'm not going to be executed, I'll jump, I will!"

"I don't fucking want you executed, for Merlin's sake! I'll take you to my home – there's a room you can stay in until we get into a good position to try and turn the tide. No one will know you're there. Come on, Hermione! You surely don't really want to die?" His use of her first name made her waver more than anything else.

"Why? Why me? Why not the others?"

"Because it's you I have here. Potter's going to die; there are no two ways about that. The Lestranges went after Longbottom, so he'll be dead too. Bellatrix will think it's funny. Avery and Dolohov were chasing Weasley, Goyle was after Lovegood and Nott went after the girl Weasley. They're all dead, or as good as, do you understand? I've got you here, and you can either jump, or you can let me take you to safety and come back and tell them you jumped. What's it to be?" She blinked rapidly several times, seemingly trying to process the situation, and he sighed in frustration. "For fucks sake Granger, if you want to die get it over with! If not, give me your fucking hand!" Hermione closed her eyes, took a step towards the edge – and then spun around and grabbed his hand. Instantly, Draco apparated them to his private suite at the manor, waved his wand over a section of wall and pushed her inside the doorway that appeared, then apparated back to Hogwarts, thanking his stars that the wards had been taken down. He estimated that the entire procedure had taken barely longer than a minute, and took the time to straighten his hair and robes and take a deep, calming breath.

"Here goes," he said out loud to the empty tower, and then looked back at the spot where Albus Dumbledore had stood at the end. "I hope you appreciate this, you doddering old fool. This is how it should have been done all along!" There was a scream from below, and he hurried back down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, heading for the Great Hall.

The Dark Lord was standing on the dais, surveying his followers when the last few – those tasked with chasing down the leaders of Dumbledore's Army and Potter's gang – came in. Bellatrix had her wand on Neville Longbottom, controlling him with what Draco suspected was a skilfully judged imperious curse, given the panic in the boy's eyes and the fact that despite his struggling, his feet continued to march him forward. Goyle was dragging Luna Lovegood behind him by her long blond hair and Potter and Weasley were both being bodily dragged into the hall. Theo's hands were empty, his face blank – but then, Theo's face was always blank now.

The four most important prisoners were pushed to their knees in the centre of the hall: Potter and Weasley heads up, eyes flashing and defiant to the last, Longbottom looking nothing more or less than furiously angry and Lovegood staring off to the side, seemingly uninterested in anything. Draco took his place to one side as several newer death eaters under the command of Goyle's father ushered in the rest of the prisoners. The group was not as large as it should be. Several of the Order were dead, he knew that, and others had fled when the tide of the battle turned. Hopefully they were planning to fight again, rather than to give up. Draco's half-formed plan had no space for cowards. He drew his attention back to the Dark Lord, who was celebrating the capture of the four young people on the floor in front of him.

"Draco! Draco, where is the mudblood?" Draco stepped forward and knelt, his eyes lowered respectfully.

"Dead, my Lord," he said clearly, ignoring Weasley's howl of rage from the middle of the hall and seeing Potter flinch out of the corner of his eye. "Threw herself off the Astronomy Tower rather than be captured. I would have brought you the body, but one of the Acromantula got to it before I did. I apologise most humbly, my Lord." The Dark Lord frowned.

"And the blood-traitor, Theodore?" Theo mimicked Draco's position on the opposite side of the hall.

"Also dead, my Lord," he said simply, offering no further explanation. The Dark Lord did not seem to desire one, and Weasley's howls rose until someone flicked a silencing charm at him. From his bent position, Draco could see Potter trembling almost uncontrollably.

"I am disappointed in you both," the Dark Lord said grimly. "I will need to find a task suitable for your failure. Perhaps… perhaps you should be tasked with hunting down the rest of the losing side. Yes, that seems appropriate, doesn't it? Establish a list of the missing, track them down, and bring me news of their deaths once you find them – proof, if you can manage it. I will allow you to be creative with the manner of their demise, proof will not always be required." The two kneeling boys nodded.

"Yes, my Lord," they replied in unison, before rising to their feet and resuming their positions. Draco met Theo's eyes as the Dark Lord called Goyle forward. Theo's face was still inscrutable. Draco raised his eyebrows a miniscule fraction and Theo blinked once, slowly. Draco's attention was drawn back the centre of the floor however, where Lovegood had just been handed to Goyle as a prize for succeeding where Draco and Theo had failed. The Dark Lord did not wish to spill pure blood, it seemed, with certain exceptions.

"And now for you three," he said, sounding almost pleased. "Longbottom, you killed my snake. For that, boy, you die – although I regret the necessity. Bella, would you like to finish off the Longbottom line? I know how much you enjoyed your last encounter with them." Bellatrix laughed as she stepped forwards, her wand held out, and with little ceremony applied a powerful cutting curse to Longbottom's neck. Draco tensed to stop himself shuddering as blood fountained across the room, Longbottom's head falling to the floor with a sickening thump and rolling to where Potter knelt beside the newest corpse. The Dark Lord smiled.

"Excellently done, Bella," he said. Bellatrix preened under the praise as he turned his attention to the last two and drew his wand. Draco waited for the killing curse, but it did not come. Instead, the Dark Lord pointed his wand at Weasley and said, "Imperio!"

Under the curse, Weasley rose to his feet and approached the Dark Lord, who inspected him closely.

"I have no wish to spill more pure blood," he stated clearly. "And the Weasleys, despite their beliefs, are pure of blood. Your crime, boy, is loyalty to the wrong person. Allow me to demonstrate why I am more worthy of your loyalty. Draw your wand." Weasley seemed to be struggling to resist the curse, but Draco had clear memories of fourth year and the boy had no aptitude for it at all. Sure enough, his unwilling hand drew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Potter, who only now seemed to realise what was going to happen.

"It's ok, Ron," he said calmly. "It's ok." There were a few second's pause and then Weasley's voice rang out in the now silent Hall.

"Avada Kedavra!"

As Potter's body slumped and fell beside Longbottom's, and screams and cries rose from the remaining prisoners at the back of the room, Draco leaned against the wall and met Theo's eyes again across the hall. The other boy looked expressionless again, regarding the bodies with a dispassionate air before looking back at Draco. At the front of the hall, the Dark Lord lifted the Imperius curse and Ron Weasley fell to his knees, crying openly. The Dark Lord surveyed him with amusement for a few seconds, and then waved his wand again, conjuring a cage around the distraught boy. Another wave of his wand, and the cage drifted over beside the chair that had formerly been occupied by the Hogwarts headteachers. Draco felt slightly sick as he realised that his classmate – Potter's right hand man, and the best strategic brain the light had – was now reduced to a situation he'd seen before; essentially, the Dark Lord's pet. A hand slipped into his and he looked down to see Pansy Parkinson standing beside him, trying her best to hide her horror.

"Keep it together, Pansy," he muttered warningly. She nodded as the Dark Lord took his seat and, with the four most important prisoners disposed of, began calling the others forward one at a time from the back of the Hall. Draco zoned out slightly as time went on. A stir arose when the Dark Lord complimented Percy Weasley on his work at the ministry and offered him the chance to take the Dark Mark. Screams rose from the other Weasley's still in the hall, including Ron, as Percy nodded grimly and was sent to join the ranks at the side of the hall. He was the only one to accept the offer to switch sides, though the offer was made to all the purebloods. Most, on refusing, were dragged off to be imprisoned somewhere. The oldest Weasley boy was killed on the spot, together with his Veela wife. The muggleborns and halfbloods were killed outright or handed off to any of the Death Eaters who wanted them. Draco paid little attention to this until Walden MacNair dragged forward the next victim and he felt his stomach lurch. Katie Bell. Katie, who he'd played Quidditch against, who he'd almost killed during his sixth year, who stood there proudly in the centre of the hall in a puddle of Longbottom's blood, head up and eyes flashing.

"Anyone?" the Dark Lord asked lazily, when there was no immediate volunteer. Without conscious thought, Draco shook off Pansy and stepped forward. The Dark Lord looked at him. "You, Draco?"

"If it pleases you, my Lord," Draco murmured deferentially.

"If you wish a plaything, Draco, you may have her. Take her!" If anything, Katie looked more horrified now than she had when she'd been facing death. Draco dragged her to his side and resumed his position while Theo, seemingly following his lead, stepped forward and claimed Hannah Abbott who seemed to be broken already. Vaguely, Draco remembered that she'd been involved with Longbottom. Beside him, Katie let out a sob. Draco grabbed her hair and pushed her to her knees.

"Shut up, and don't draw any attention to us," he muttered, leaning close to her ear and hoping that she was a better actress than Granger. Thankfully, it seemed she was. Katie pushed him away with a disgusted expression on her face, but she didn't make any more noise and knelt obediently by his feet. He smirked as he resumed his position standing beside her. The Dark Lord was still talking.

"Now, with our prisoners dealt with and disposed of as necessary, my Death Eaters, let us go forward and revel in our victory! Harry Potter is dead, dead by the hand of his own side, and our victory is assured! I will expect you all at a revel in the manor in one week to celebrate. Lucius, I presume I can rely on you to provide the usual entertainment.

"As my Lord wills," Lucius Malfoy said dryly.

"Excellent. More instructions will be forthcoming to some of you in due course. Draco and Theodore, I hope to hear of success in your mission soon."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied. Theo echoed him. As the gathering began disapparating around them, the two boys met in the middle of the hall, each with their prisoner in tow. "Meet at mine tomorrow," Draco said briefly. Theo nodded once, before disapparating with Hannah. Holding Katie's arm firmly, Draco followed suit.