Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Prologue
(June 1st 1999)
The blood red eyes of the Dark Lord stared down at the crippled woman in disgust. She lay there shaking, shoulders slumped and head bent forward in dejection, no longer willing to fight. She lay there broken, no longer the proud, haughty and loyal wife to his most faithful follower.
Her hair fell limp down her back, dirty and matted. Her face was stretched and pale, marred by vicious cuts and the residue of dried blood. There was no life to her; her face lay vacant, and the only emotion that flickered in her eyes was fear. Her famed beauty was gone, replaced with a shell of the woman she had once been.
She was weak.
Voldemort's smile was twisted and feral as he admired his handiwork, and allowed himself a cruel, mirthless laugh.
He had well and truly destroyed her.
"Pathetic, isn't she?"
His hand lashed out and backhanded her. The sound of his flesh hitting hers and her ear-splitting scream of agony echoed off the walls.
"Indeed, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy surveyed the woman with cool indifference, grey eyes a blank slate.
The woman flinched at the sound of Malfoy's voice, and Voldemort watched, in detached intrigue, as she drew herself closer, as if she could protect herself from their brutal onslaught by this one action.
She was scared. He could smell it, feel it, taste it.
It was positively delightful.
"Scared to look at your husband, Narcissa?" He hissed, yanking her up by her mangled blonde hair. Her blue gaze was fixed in horror as she was forced to look at Lucius. The witch whimpered, as she felt her hair tear away from her scalp.
"My Lord," Lucius began silkily, unfazed by the current situation. "If I may be so prudent as to ask: what is it that my wife has done to anger you so greatly?"
Voldemort surveyed the tall blond man, red eyes narrowed into slits. Anger pulsed off of him in waves. "Your wife, Lucius, is nothing more than a blood traitor, who has been passing on some incredibly valuable information to that blasted Order. She's betrayed us all." His voice rose into a shout, and without a second thought he brandished his wand and spat out "Crucio."
His captive's tortured shrieks were raw and relentless, leaving the witch no room for breath. Narcissa twitched uncontrollably, writhing violently from the unbearable pain that had ensnared her senses. Sweat, blood and tears poured out from her body…
Her screams continued long after the curse had been lifted.
"I see," Lucius murmured, jaw clenched in apparent anger. His grey eyes flashed, hardening to dark pools of silver. "How very foolish of her."
The Dark Lord purred his agreement. "Betrayal, as you are aware, is a punishment worthy of death." He bent down, placed his thin lips against the shell of Narcissa's ear and whispered softly. "Did you remember that when you decided to leak information to the Order, Narcissa? Did you? Or perhaps you thought that you wouldn't get caught?" He pulled away, his tone harshened. "Lord Voldemort always knows, Narcissa. Always. It would have done you well to remember that; nothing ever escapes me."
The broken woman flinched as Voldemort's foul breath teased her ear.
"Do you love your wife, Lucius?" Voldemort questioned, gaze still fixed on Narcissa. His request seemed simple enough, but under all the layers, Lucius Malfoy knew that it spoke volumes.
"No, my Lord." Lucius' bold reply came without hesitation. "Love makes you weak."
"Yes, Malfoy, it does." The Dark Lord finally released his grip, and Narcissa fell like a puppet whose strings had snapped. "Now," he stepped back to admire his creation, "if you would be so kind, Lucius, it seems my patience has worn thin. Please, dispose of this blood traitor; I have no more use for the creature."
The cowering witch let out a gasp, and her head shot up, life suddenly sparking in her eyes. "Lucius, please…" she slurred, using what little energy she had to vocalise her plea. Her voice was dry and raspy, destroyed from her continuous screams under torture.
Without hesitation, Lucius drew his wand and pointed it at his sobbing wife.
"Such a pity," Voldemort chided, caressing Narcissa's cheek. "She was a rather pretty thing."
"Avada Kedavra," her husband snarled. A jet of acid green light shot from his wand and struck Narcissa squarely in the chest.
For a second, her eyes widened…
The sobbing stopped…
And then…
Lucius Malfoy watched as the lifeless body of his wife crumpled to the floor.
Author's Note: Hello and welcome to Catalyst my new Draco/Hermione. This story actually came to me ages ago (and by ages ago, I mean like February of this year) but due to various things I've only now been able to start focusing on it etc. This will be set, primarily, 2 years after HBP though elements of DH will come into it from time to time. There will also be flashbacks which will either impact the arc and scope of the chapter you're reading or, in time, the wider arc of the story as well. However, not all will be as it seems…
Updates, I hope, will try to be every other week – I'm super busy with my final year of university (I'm only like 3 weeks in, it's depressing) and that will be my main priority. Plus, a majority of these chapters will be fairly lengthy and so it will take a fair amount of time to write them as well. If I can update earlier than normal – well, you're very lucky indeed; if I don't update when I say I can/or should of done, please bear with me.
Anywho, without further ado, I just want to say that I really hope that you liked this chapter. As the title implies this is the trigger for everything, and it is therefore from this point that the story will divulge. Thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a review!
VickytoriaGreengrass