Prologue

Draco Malfoy stood at the centre of a vast circle... scared, alone, eyes downcast. Every time he raised his eyes he found himself being scrutinized by those piercing red eyes that haunted his waking nightmares.

He stole a sideways glance at his father, guilt written over his pale, scared face. Well, he should be guilty, Draco thought maliciously. He should be made to see my destruction. He is the one who has brought it on us, after all. He gulped as he felt something prodding into his thoughts and steeled himself against the intrusion, taking care to not reveal too much.

He knew what was expected of him. His Father had made no secret of the fact. But what he had been asked to do… he couldn't –wouldn't – do his bidding for once. This would be his Grand Finale… his last act of "FUCK YOU, Father!"

"Draco," the Dark Lord hissed, as his eyes… his mind continued to poke around Draco's brain. "Do you submit your allegiance to our cause?" he asked in a voice that left no room for argument.

"Yes, My Lord," he stated resolutely, with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Master…" a quite voice broke the pin drop silence. Draco turned in direction of the voice. His mother... scared, wandless… flanked by Aunt Bellatrix and Alecto Carrow on either side, their wands digging into her hips - the only one who had dared to protest his initiation from the very start.

"Narcisssssa," Dark Lord hissed, his eyes sparkling as they turned to her. Draco silently prayed to whoever may listen… Merlin… Salazar… hell, right now, even Potter… that his mother be spared of the Dark Lord's wrath. "You may speak your piece," Lord Voldemort hissed as his eyes finished their examination.

"He…" Narcissa Malfoy protested. "My Lord, Draco… he's an Innocent… He can't take the Mark. He's an Innocent, my Lord."

The red eyes sparked in evil mirth as they turned to him… a hairless eyebrow cocking in amusement as if to say, Really?

Draco cringed. Innocent… Virgin… The Mark couldn't be taken by a virgin, everyone knew that. The purity of an Innocent's magic clashed with the Dark Mark and not only killed the Taker, but also the Marker. And an underage Innocent was practically untouchable without his Patriarch's consent. Look what had happened with Potter the First Time. So, he wasn't just going to die, he was taking the despicable Snake-Lord with him. He had taken some comfort in that fact when preparing for this day.

But now, instead of letting him die… innocent, pure… a Hero – The-Boy-Who-Died-But-Took-BaldyVoldy-With-Him – his mother had just given the Dark Lord ammunition for his destruction. Or maybe she hasn't realized just how desperate Father is to get back into their Lord's good graces.

"Is that so, Lucius?" The Dark Lord asked, his tiny red eyes sparkling with mirth, as they turned on his father.

"Y…ye...yes, My Lord," Lucius stammered, desperately looking around, waiting for someone to speak up. Draco saw his mother's eyes widen as she realized her mistake. But it was too late now.

The Lord grinned, a toothy grin that made sick to his stomach, and flicked his wand. Draco found himself bent over a conjured block, arms and legs chained to the floor, restricting his movements. He knew what was going to happen. He had seen Amycus, Rudolphus and Rabastan "breaking" prisoners this way. He had heard their screams at night, lying awake in these very walls.

He looked at his father and looked away in disgust. His father's subservience to the Dark Lord was appalling. He wasn't even lifting a finger to protect his son… his only son… his only heir. His mother had visibly paled. Bella and Alecto were now gripping her arms… their fingers probably leaving marks in the pale skin. He couldn't even bear to look in her face right now.

Bent on that block, waiting for the Dark Lord to make his move, Draco wished he could take back all those times he had insulted Potter and Longbottom about their lack of parents. Having no parents would be better having those who had literally sold their souls... and their son… to a worthless Snake.

He looked at the faces of people of around him – faces, that he would never forget. His aunt and uncles looking down on him with despise… Mr. Greengrass, his betrothed's father, carefully averting his eyes… Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle glinting with sadistic pleasure at the spectacle before them… and Severus – black eyes expressionless and unreadable, fists balled so tight his palms were bleeding, but his face straight-laced and smirking as always, as if he was just waiting for Longbottom to blow up another cauldron – standing so still and unmoving that Draco was sure someone had cast Petrificus Totalus on him.

He vaguely heard the swish of robes behind him and suddenly found himself naked from the waist down. He couldn't help the blush of shame that crept up his neck or his face burning with humiliation.

A thin finger caressed his cheek and he closed his eyes, blocking out the room, the faces… making himself numb to the fact that something was nudging at his arsehole. I won't give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream, he thought biting down hard on his lower lip. He tasted the coppery tang of his blood, then pain… lots of pain…

Draco drifted off. Through his pain-induced haze, he barely heard, "Not an innocent now, is he, Narcissa?"