Rated T for now (I sound like a video game commercial...), just because I'd rather move on with the plot than linger on nasty, gory details in any violent scene which would have bumped this up to M rating.

PROLOGUE
Godric's Hollow

Draco Malfoy huffed impatiently and folded his arms across his chest. He looked around the clearing he stood in and took in the stony faces of his father's fellow Death Eaters. His father, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, Crabbe and Goyle's parents... Not a single one of them ever spoke, but from time to time one would look at another and they would nod.

Draco wrinkled his nose to fight off an itch. His father had woken him up at two in the morning for this? To stand around and do nothing? When he had arrived he had been thrilled to be part of a clandestine meeting like this, but after two hours of waiting the anticipation was wearing off and he was bored out of his skull. Ever since the end of the Triwizard Tournament Draco had heard nothing but news about Voldemort's return. He had heard, not seen. If his father was as close to Voldemort as he claimed, then why hadn't Draco seen him yet? Not once during the summer had he caught a glimpse of the Dark Lord, and it was beginning to irritate him.

He turned his attention to the surrounding area. Godric's Hollow, he thought. So this is where Potter's parents died. Voldemort killed them right here...

Despite the warm July evening, a giddy sort of shiver ran through him.

He shot a glance at his father and idly wondered what it would be like to lose his parents. His mother... well, he supposed he would miss her a little bit. She was always there to offer him advice when he needed it, and she constantly worried about him. She was worldly and knowledgeable, but she hardly ever showed that around Lucius... but whether it was out of fear or shrewdness Draco wasn't sure.

He already knew he wouldn't care all that much if his father died—Lucius had never been much more than a forced father figure to Draco, anyway. After all, he was only Draco's father because he was married to Narcissa. Blood may be thicker than water, but it can't force anyone to love their family.

Lucius Malfoy, Draco decided, was most certainly not a good father. He provided money, food, and a lavish roof over his family's head, but he also verbally beat Draco down and habitually snuck little comments into their conversations that could be akin to mind games and left Draco torturing himself over them late into the night. Whenever Draco fell as a child, Lucius never made an attempt to catch him; rather, he was always there after the fact to point out what his son had done wrong and to make him feel badly about his decision, as if he had fallen on purpose. Narcissa, on the other hand, was a devoted wife and doting mother, and it escaped Draco how none of her fondness for her family had rubbed off on his father in the past however many years they had been married.

Draco clamped down lightly on his tongue as he watched his father bend his head down and speak in hushed tones to a burly man with a face like a tree stump. No, he didn't care about his father. He most certainly feared and respected him for his ability to be so influential, but he didn't like him one bit. It would be no great loss to Draco if his father was killed.

Besides, if Lucius died, then he got to move up in the ranks.

Draco glanced up sharply as a twig cracked off to his right. As if separating itself from the darkness around them, a hooded figure glided silently toward him, gathering Death Eaters in its wake like a magnet. Draco stood up straight with a menacing glare from his father. As the figure passed him it turned its hooded face and Draco swore its red eyes bore right through to his heart. Despite the jumpy feeling tingling in his chest he grinned to himself as the cluster of Death Eaters moved inward toward the figure.

Finally.