Began writing this on November the 13th in 2004

Born to a world so young and proud,
but over your head hangs a black cloud.
Grow your hair and crawl inside yourself,
because there you cannot hide.
Facing fears that you'll overcome and one
of these years you know you've won.- Hellbound by Pantera

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you see here, and though I own Nigel, he is never mentioned after the Prologue only a few times, so he doesn't count. Remember, kids, never wander without a portkey or rush too quickly out of the mansion to meet your pissed-off father's awaiting fist... No Death Eaters were severely harmed in the making of this fic. In the Prologue, anyway... -She dons an evil grin.-

HELLBOUND;

-Chronicling the continuation of the crusade-

Segment forming… Sequence Prologue commencing.-

PROLOGUE

Was it a Childish Mistake?

I'm lonely and abandoned,

washed up,

left for dead.- I'll Get Even by Megadeth

Keep a close watch, nephew!
I don't need this…
Just be careful, kid!
Mother…
Your father is rather careless at times, so keep a portkey-

Come on, son!
Coming… a sigh. 'Bye, Mother, Nigel!

The Death Eaters and we wanna-be DEs had assembled in what I call, 'frozen bitter hell cloaked in ice and shadowy silhouettes.' For a more simple term, this forest is biting cold and cruel. Father says that 'I should chronicle this event in my mind as a grand opportunity to wander with our beloved Lord Volde.' I would rather stab him with the machete he gave me for my 17th birthday present, but I hadn't brought it along, so I had to agree with him. At times I want to wring his neck, but I can't help but respect him for the dedication he gave to the guy. As for me, I wouldn't have considered becoming a Death Eater if it didn't involve the delicious killings...
Lord Volde had given us a small bit of background information over the forest. I couldn't have cared less, but I listened attentively. He said that 'the forest used to be a village. This village was overcome with damning Light supporters, such as aurors.' He, with a bit of help from my elders, destroyed the village, and then in return created an icy magical forest in its place. I wish that they could have made it a tropical forest...
I was among the latter adults to be inducted tonight. I can sense that I'm the only wanna-be Death Eater who isn't nervous. I've been preparing for this moment for nineteen years, not counting the seven I studied like hell during school. I don't think that my confidence can ever be forced if it involves the slaughter of Mudbloods or a chance at impressing ol' Volde. Damn, I really do wish I had brought my dagger along...
Chipping away at the other inductee's masks, I can recognise their fear, fatigue, and the restlessness shifting about in their glassy orbs. It wasn't surprising; they weren't the only son of the second most evil man on earth. They were wary about the bloodbath of tests, but I was practically donning an enormously cannibalistic grin throughout the butchery.
It was very entertaining to watch the Muggles plead so pathetically… I have no conscience, and killing is so natural for anyone in my family to enjoy. I was made for this sort of life; my name just says it all. Draco Malfoy. Evil dragon. I'm a bringer of death, and I won't change that for anything or anyone.
Lord Volde himself branded us. It's a bit amusing that he's actually outside when the DA are all over the globe, searching for him like a desperate child would for its toys. Having such information makes me feel important and powerful, but I know that I'm unworthy in his snake-like orbs. I hope that I can please him by slitting the Golden Trio's throats. Hell, I can even pull off an avada if necessary. It's a done deal if I could just corner one of them. I've grown to be much more independent in my young age, and I rarely even see Crabbe or Goyle, and when I do, they ask me to help them.
The Golden Trio are three Gryffindor brats whom I attended school at Hogwarts with. Their known names are Granger the Goldenbrain, clumsy Weasley, and Pothead. I loathe them with a scorching, dangerous passion. The smart Gryff is Granger, who is probably blind now by her black fuzzy curls. The dumbarse one is Weasley, who loves to throw wild fits of rage if anything goes wrong. The final and most annoying is Potter, who is a daft celebrity, all because he's head of the Scottish Quidditch team and has that stupid lightening-bolt-shaped scar.
Coming out of my heated reverie, I find an odd situation occurring. Ol' Volde Darkness seems a bit wary, as if he expects something. I didn't even want to make a guess at it. He's acting peculiar, basically. For an example: his speech and conversation (which I cleverly eavesdropped on) with father was very hastened and overly shortened.

Damn! I wish that he would give us some clue as to what was going on. I would gladly do anything in my power to aid him. After all, we Death Eaters stick together when there's a problem. Maybe it's that he doesn't trust us… Hell, he had no reason to trust me: I was as trusting as a provoked crocodile...

I massaged my new mark wearily. It was still burning, but as a Malfoy, it was a natural talent of masking the pain with a smirk that prevented anyone of suspecting how I felt. Also, it wasn't anything compared to the pain of knives being driven through your soul. That was how I felt when I watched father bow down to Voldemort, who was half filth. I just can't get over that Voldemort is half Muggle.
"Unholy, thou art our master. We shall never fail thy, or so be it that our heads rest upon planks!" we inductees chorused ceremoniously, me being the loudest.
"Fools!" he abruptly shouted.
Terrific. He panics in front of us without even giving us a sign or a clue of the situation…
I remained almost rooted to my place, but the others were using their portkeys. I searched with weary eyes for my father, but I only saw darkness and the shapes of trees. My throat tightened and I inhaled heavily. I felt for my portkey in my cloak pockets, but my efforts were in vain. Damn this feeling of dread...
I was now alone in a forest that I had never wandered in until now. I had forgotten my portkey home. Maybe it was karma coming back to haunt me for never thinking ahead. Or maybe it was my stupidity laughing in my face.
"Dumbledore! They've all left!" a woman's voice bounced off the trees. "Isn't it good enough that we have one? Who would care if we caught two in one day?"
I inhaled sharply. I glanced around me, my pale eyebrows knitted tightly in frustration and fatigue. My robes were clinging to me from the sweat and I felt like cursing the world. Why shouldn't I? They had already caught one of my fellow Death Eaters, so why wouldn't the same happen to me?
"No, one is still here. I sense him!"
I scanned around me cautiously. Where were the voices coming from? Why were they familiar to me? I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts. I needed to find a path out of the maze of trees, not waste precious time…
"Immobilious!"
I nearly choked as a bright flash of light missed me. Damn it!
I began to feel the adrenaline flow through my veins. I ran blindly in the enormous darkness, my hood rapping against my head, my cloak tangling around my legs. My mark was throbbing even worse now, but I ignored it. I glanced behind me, but I saw nothing. I believe this forest merely exists for people to become lost in. Hmm, maybe that could be my advantage here… I could catch one of the DA and strangle them... No, that wouldn't work...

I ceased my fast speed and stood under a large willow tree. The repugnant scent of lavender (I don't like the smell at all, it's revolting) filled my nostrils. An idea formed as I tried to ignore the odour.
Hell, I needed to practise wandless magic anyway. That stupid DE professor was always sending me glares when we were in class... It's annoying that I had to be in school after my long years at Hogwarts, but at least I had been surrounded by people with similar intestests...
I massaged my mark and murmured my favourite spell, which happened to be one that cloaked me so that I could walk freely so long as I didn't do anything stupid like think any negative thoughts. It was a spell that was often used by sages when fighting Death Eaters such as myself. Ha! How would they react if they knew that their own weapon (sort of) was used against them?
He's near us now… But he's already sensed us, I'm afraid…"

My hands were clasped, my fingers intertwined. I was on my knees, mouthing the spell repeatedly. Everything was so blurry and foggy now, and my concentration was faltering. I couldn't possibly remain invisible with such a strain upon my mind. I felt as if icy hands were wrapped around my throat. I felt my veil slowly chip away as if icy arms slowly released me. I was now exposed!

Think fast Draco, think fast!
"Hey, Dumbledore! Doesn't that shape in the distance seem humanlike?"
The DA with its famed leader were hunting me. How long had they been on to us? Damn… I should have killed them earlier when I had the chance at Hogwarts!
I quickly untangled my hands and climbed to my feet. I ripped my hood over my platinum blond hair and glanced around rapidly. Nothing, no sign of anyone… It unnerved me how oblivious I had been.
My first impulse had been to run. Now, the second impulse was to try to hide again. I swallowed down the anticipation and slid behind the tree that I had been standing under. Adrenaline was rushing through my once icy veins…

"Of all the ridiculous places…"
It was all over now and I knew that I would join my other Death Eaters in Azkaban. I ignored the voice screaming: Malfoys don't give up! I prepared for the worst…

TBC…

Important note to the readers to read to understand what the heck is going on:

Immortality is vastly overrated. I mean, Voldemort drinks the blood of a unicorn, then he's suddenly immortal, but with a thousand side-effects! It's just not worth it, to waste your life on something you could easily achieve by simply exercising and treating yourself the right way. Hell, you might not live forever, but you'd live a hell of a lot longer than some people in Africa or America.

Voldemort has been in hiding since the Gryffindor Trio's seventh year, but he hasn't been inactive. In fact, he's been rounding up his troupes by the thousands. He's been supervising the new troupe and is very cautious. He's making careful steps to make sure that he undermines the DA and crushes them. He's becoming smarter and much more lethal.

And now he's almost ready to strike. He just needs to mark the rest of the troupes, which include Lucius Malfoy's only son, Draco Malfoy. The boy will do great things. Hell, he might just annihilate one of the DA's top wizards like his Aunt. Only there's one problem with this…

Also, if you read this before, you'll have to read it over again… I've changed the mood a bit. I'm going to try to make Draco's personality dark so that it stands out from Hermione's when I post the chapters that have both their POVs on the same scene for your approval later… Of course, don't expect me to ever do the same scene with both their POVs ever again when I post that chapter… By the way, that chapter isn't 1.5, it's 2.5, for those who are confused...

I'm also very sorry for editing this so many times. I'm still not used to this stupid site and their rules... I can't do any faces anymore, which pisses me off, and I can't do special characters, which screws up my kick-arse banner I created. Oh well, at least I can use them on the other sites I posted this on... Also, I'd like to thank you for enduring this, because one day, I'll finally be used to these stupid formats...

(I am plotting against this site as we speak... I will somehow sway them to be normal, but I seriously doubt that the people running this site will listen to a child such as myself...) They got rid of the indents, too! It looks so damn ugly compared to the submissions at the other fanfiction sites-She dodges tomatoes and cantalopes being thrown by random people who actually like the currupted formatting here.- Hey! If you throw something, let it be a Megadeth CD-Is hit on the head by Megadeth's album Risk.- THANK YOU!

An extra note about the year this is set in to the Americans or people who just got into the Cannon:

In the European version of the books, Madam Rowling clearly states the years... This may be hard for you to grasp, but the good guys you love were born in the eighties. Their seventh year ends sometime in 1997. Do you get the picture?

Draco is a year older than the Golden Trio (No insults intended for the people who like them, I have no hatred for them, either). This is because he attended Durmstrang for a year, and then his parents cancelled his attendance for personal reasons. Draco was getting into trouble with one of the professors who despised him greatly, and his parents wouldn't allow their son to suffer any longer than necessary. The reason why Draco was put back as a first year was because he was failing his classes and learnt nothing at Durmstrang due to the unnamed professor, and Dumbledore sympathised with him for that.

The Golden Trio and their fellow friends who were in their same year are 25 in this story, which makes Draco 26. Also, please note that characters mature in many different ways and often do not act the same as when they were fifteen. That's one of the reasons why Draco is a bit… More annoying, I hate to say, than cannon.

Now that you understand, I would want you to at least e-mail me or review if you have the time. Next time I won't do much talking, only in the disclaimer, which is humorous, if you like Draco and Hermione fighting about who wants to thrash another first... I won't reveal anymore, so why don't you take the time to read some more DMHG fics? If you really have the time, you could be a nice little reader and review, or e-mail me at ShadowsshadowSha (at) aol -(dot)- (com). (Just take out the parentheses and add the real things, since yours truly can't post links on this stupid site...) Sayonara!

-Yours truly,

Jamie Lynn McCarver

(Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning)

-Message ended November the 14th in 2004