It was a cold black night in December. The wind was howling past, whispering death on the air. Trees bent impossibly in the wind, aching to snap but only just resisting. The cold bit like a snake, the snow drifts danced in the wind like ghosts, and Death Eaters stalked the night.
A crowd of fifteen Death Eaters crowded around a platform in the snow, cold but not shivering, scared but not cowering, proud but on their knees. They may be evil men but no one could say that they weren't strong, disciplined, and powerful. Not many men could kneel in front of the Dark Lord and return alive again and again. These men were Voldemort's favorite, they were the elite, and they were his chosen men. Except for one, and he was going to pay the price this night.
"Lucius," The Dark Lord's voice rose from the darkness like velvet evil.
"Yes, Master," Lucius croaked from his position on the platform, half naked and beaten brutally.
"I am not pleased." Four words that foreshadowed a fate worse than death.
The fourteen other Death Eaters stood immobile even though bile rose in their throats and their stomachs quaked. Lucius had been the favorite of the all, and to watch his downfall only reinforced that none of them were safe, however it may seem. Caught in a trap none of them could escape they chose to serve rather than to die. They murdered, raped and tortured for their lives and the lives of their families. Young and vain they made a decision that they can never take back. Ever. Their wives are toys for the Dark Lord, their children were slaves. Voldemort could do anything he wanted to anyone of them, and everything they owned.
Lucius held only three things dear in his whole existence; his family name that he wrapped around him like an impenetrable cloak, his power, and his son. And all three things were about to be stripped away from him. A moment of weakness was all it took for Lucius to go from the height of arrogance and ultimate power, to the lowest, practically a muggle. Every midwinter the Dark Lord demanded a sacrifice or gift from all of his Death Eaters. The highest of them always paid the highest price. So far Lucius had given up his wife, and many of his priceless family heirlooms. This year Voldemort had demanded the soul of his son. Lucius refused.
The process of extracting a soul was a lengthy and painful one, and what was left was an empty husk of what the person had been before. They still lived, but were only useful as slaves since they no longer contained the essence of a person. Voldemort then devoured the soul which added length to his life. Not to mention he gained the wizard's skills and power. A very powerful wizard, such as Draco, could add a century onto the life of Voldemort, and that's why he desired him.
The loss of Draco to Lucius would be too much to bear. He had raised him from a sickly infant into a force to be reckoned with. He honed his son into a powerful weapon, capable of using both dark and light magic far beyond his years. He had never intended for his son to become a Death Eater, and he trained his son in such a way that he would be able to resist. It was painful enough for Lucius to watch everything his family had owned for generations, and everything he built slowly melt away into the Dark Lord's hands. Draco had been his only hope, his only light for the future of the Malfoy line, and possibly the future of himself if he was able to become powerful enough to overtake the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord took Draco's soul, it would be the end of the Malfoy line forever, the end of their legacy, a legacy that reached back further than written records. So he had to refuse the Dark Lord, and he knew it would cost him his life.
What he didn't know was that it was going to cost him everything else as well. Strong though his son may be, he was not invincible, and he was much weaker and less experienced than Voldemort. He wasn't as quick to pull out the unforgivables to subdue a threat, and that was how he got captured. Draco Malfoy lay hog tied at the Dark Lord's feet, fear and panic shining in his eyes.
Lucius watched helplessly as the Dark Lord took out a potion and splashed it all over Draco's face. The liquid was pitch black and when it touched Draco's skin it flashed red and then the light sunk into Draco's skin. Draco screamed out in agony and convulsed in his confines. It was the scream of ultimate abandon to the pain, it was the sound of someone losing their mind. A few short seconds that seemed like an eternity later the screaming stopped and Lucius felt relieved as his son turned to look at him sorrowfully, tears running from his eyes, but his mind was still there. His soul was not gone.
The Dark Lord laughed. "Oh Lucius, don't be relieved just yet. This is a lengthy process, his soul wont be mine until exactly three months. The potion is non-reversible, and as soon as the three months are up his soul will travel dutifully to me, and that will be that. Your line, and your son will be no more. There will be no heaven or hell for your boy Lucius, no afterlife or chance for rebirth. He will never know the mysteries of the universe. Such a shame."
Lucius stayed silent. It was all over anyways, why give the man any sort of satisfaction? He had lost everything, and there was nothing else he could do. He was numb to the world. He looked at his son and his heart broke, but there was nothing else he could do.
"Goyle, come here and untie the boy. You will return him to Malfoy Manor, and he will return to school. Why make him suffer in his last days of life? This is a gift to you Lucius, you were my best Death Eater after all. Your only fault was that you loved too much, a weakness that I will burn out of the rest of my Death Eaters, so they will not end up like you."
Goyle untied Draco Malfoy and apparated away with him, presumably to the manor. Lucius said a silent goodbye to his son, he was pleased that his son would live free of this nightmare for a while longer, and maybe they might even find a way for him to be free of his fate. He prayed that his son would have the foresight to talk to Albus Dumbledore before it was too late.
"Ah, but we're not done here yet Lucius," the Dark Lord smirked, "You do know that I am connected to our dear friend Harry Potter through his scar, do you not?"
"Yes, Master." Lucius monotoned but he was sure his confusion showed in his eyes. 'What did Harry Potter have to do with anything that was happening tonight?'
"Last year I discovered that I can send things down this link. Mostly small things like memories, and nightmares. Tonight I'm going to be trying to send something a little more substantial than that down the link. Think of it as a sort of, experiment. If you survive it, in three months I might even let you live. I'm sure you'll be free of any of your weaknesses by then. Can you guess what I have planned for you, Lucius?"
"No, Master." Blank eyes. Poker face. Inside he was terrified. What was going on?
"I'm going to be sending you." The Dark Lord smiled. The Death Eaters stirred in their places, a little perturbed.
"Sending me where?" Lucius's eyes widened at the implication, not believing it fully.
"You know where."
And then all went black.
What seemed like only a few seconds later Harry Potter awoke with a scream.