Okay this is a complicated idea and my first attempt to post anything that goes out of its way to be AU. The summery is for the entire story but is very empty so nothing is given away. All warnings are made because I am writing a story about Death Eaters and I expect somebody will get hurt. I hope you all enjoy and review and I desperately hope my story is worthy of reading.

Canon up to HBP. AU After. All disclaimers apply.

Lucius Malfoy was back. Back at Hogwarts, back with the Dark Lord, and back in control. Strolling down the corridor at a lazy pace, he wondered idly if his fellow Death Eaters had done the renovations of the once grand school, or had the fleeing students and staff taken everything, magically stuck in place or not, with them. The castle was empty, drafty, and dank. Over five hundred years of history, magical properties, and artifacts were missing as if they had never been. Lucius smirked. The Dark Lord had a flair for the dramatic, taking what many considered the safest place in the Wizarding World and turning it into a home base. Breaking Malfoy senior and the rest of the Death Eaters trapped in Azkaban out must have seemed easy after that.

Several of his comrades turned the corner ahead of him. They kept their eyes down and heads averted, almost cowering as they passed, giving him a wide berth. He sneered but kept walking. His pleasant mood vanished at their reaction, reminding him what he had lost in Azkaban. Lucius had always been vain. His hair and physic were fair, well kept, and his clothes of the impeccable taste. Despite his leanings towards narcissism, everyone agreed that between his looks, his blood, and his money he had a right to be proud. When he was found, hiding under the bed strapped to the wall mumbling to himself…

Well safe to say he was glad that what was left of him had been restored to something resembling his former glory. His gold hair had turned white, but all other signs of age had slowly vanished, and as Lucius's body restored itself to its natural vigor he found himself slowly gaining back his mind and his purpose. To that end, Lucius sought to renew his bond with the Dark Lord. Plans and schemes filled his head, tasks to be carried out and continued if he was to regain favor – and keep it. Not that he was worried. He was a Malfoy after all.

Now however, he had more immediate issues to deal with. Such as identifying the whereabouts of his son. No one seemed willing or able to answer his demands for information. Therefore, Lucius slowly made his way down into the dungeons of the school, seeking the one man he could trust: Severus Snape. Narcissa had said something about asking Severus to keep an eye on the boy.

Alexander Youngblood waited at the front of the classroom, letting everyone settle into their desk before he began. He wondered if it was a bad sign that he was honestly looking forward to teaching this next batch of Death Eater brats. Like a twisted version of what the Muggles called Stockholm's Syndrome. He tried to look intimidating but the best he could manage was a mischievous "I know something you don't know" smile. The students, of course, ignored him and sat talking amongst themselves. He was after all merely a half blood and they were used to being sneered at by the most feared potions master in all of Europe, Severus Snape. Well at 5ft 4inches, with bright blue eyes, and a pile of fluffy brown hair, he could hardly compare to the "bat of the dungeons." But he had something better than a terrifying demeanor.

Without bothering to tell the students to quiet down, or even raising his voice, Alexander spoke as if they weren't making any noise. At the sound of his voice, several of the students turned curiously. "Today class, you will be learning about potions." He gestured over to the caldron removing the stasis charm he had put on it. Instantly the pot resumed boiling, the bubbles forming green foam and the steam releasing a toxic smelling fog. The students began yelling, a few even screamed. The ones closest to the back had the presence of mind to run for the door only to have it slam shut before them. The smoke only lasted five seconds before it began to dissipate, the contents of the caldron having boiled itself to nothing.

The students, some standing, some still sitting, and a few hiding under the desks looked at their teacher with wild eyes. A few were shaking in fear. Alexander's smile widened. A tall youth with slicked back black hair recovered first. "My father will hear about this! Recklessly endangering student lives!" Several of the boys standing around him nodded, rallying around this would be leader. Alexander laughed. "You do that Mr. Cardwell. I'm sure your father, supposing he had any brains, will punish you more thoroughly then I can." For a moment, the boy looked taken back and then he attempted a sneer, which came out as more of a grimace. "How dare you!"

Alexander walked around his desk and stood in front of the boy, then slowly rolled up his sleeve and displayed the mark underneath. "I, like all your teachers, like all the adults in this building, like your father, serve the Dark Lord. Our glorious master has decided that I will train you all in the art of potions, however I see fit, until you are proficient." Dropping his arm, Alexander leaned in and gave a stage whisper. "Do you know what that means?" The boy was pale and shook his head. "It means that as long as the Dark Lord is happy with me I can do whatever I please to the lot of you until you pass my class." He straightened and then returned to his desk. "Sit down, all of you, and get out your books. Quickly and quietly." Moving nearly as one, the students returned to their tables and began to pull out their school things from out of their bags.

Most were wide eyed and afraid, a couple of the girls started crying silently as they realized they could not open their mouth nor stop themselves until they were seated properly. The Cardwell boy was the first to break the silence. "What did you do to us?" He demanded as he finally regained the use of his tongue. Alexander rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. "The same thing I do to all of my fifth years – I began the lesson with a very simple demonstration."

Grinning widely, the professor began to explain. "You see spells are all well and good, but unless you get the drop on a person and do everything perfectly, they can be defended against or even miscast with horrible results." He waved at the now empty caldron. "What you've just experienced is my own personal invention, the Imprio potion." The students look properly terrified at the idea and Alexander continued with obvious enjoyment. "It can be drank, inhaled, or just applied directly to the skin. Because it is so easy for any non- brewer to use, the Dark Lord has determined that you all should learn how to make it. So today we go over theory and tomorrow you all will get the chance to explode yourselves along with your cauldrons."

A blond girl, looking particularly sick, raised a shaking hand. "Will the potion wear off?" Alexander scratched his head and put a thoughtful look on his face. "Well it should," he said "But there are always exceptions." The mischievous smile was back and the students dimly began to realize that while he was not physically intimidating, they feared this new professor more than they ever had the old one.