Author's note: First fanfic, so be just but kind, please.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and the publishers.
It were a tale
Prologue
The man dressed in long black robes watched the Manor intently for the third day in a row. Today would be the day he'd strike, today would be the day that Lucius Malfoy would feel a fraction of what he had done unto others. Today he would lose his son.
The man in black was not about harm the child, so unlike what Malfoy had done to his daughters but he would feel the loss of his only son. Assuming that the man actually could feel an emotion such as grief. Ah well, if anything it would hurt his pride.
Had he been sent off to Azkaban, this would not have been necessary but he hadn't so retribution had to be gotten some other way.
For a few seconds the man in black let his righteous fury at the Wizengamot's incompetence surpass his thirst for vengeance. How many of followers of He-who-must-not-named had gotten away with claiming to be under the Imperius curse he'd never know, or understand. He might not be able to cast the spell himself but he was quite sure that even the most powerful and dark of wizards wasn't able to control up to fifteen minds at the same time. And there had been at least that many present at the attack on his village.
And Malfoy had been amongst the cruelest of them all. It was sheer luck that Malfoy had been identifiable, one lock of his hair coming loose underneath Death Eater mask. He hadn't seemed too troubled by it, convinced that all who might have noticed were either allies or dead by morning. But they weren't, were they? For the man in black had survived.
Plots to kill and maim Malfoy had been his daydreams ever since but he didn't feel like spending his time in Azkaban. So, when after some research it turned out that Narcissa Malfoy was incapable of conceiving again after little Draco's birth and that Lucius Malfoy was bound to his wife for eternity, not able to marry another woman to breed, a different plan had taken shape.
A frightfully simple plan which was apparently was even more simple to execute as Narcissa was in the habit to leave the child under the supervision of an elf for an hour or two in the afternoon. The child would wander across the grounds, guided by his curiosity as only a toddler can be, the elf trailing behind him. Although he already showed signs of his family's snobbery, not uttering a word to the elf other than an occasional order, it could still be corrected.
Getting the portkey through the wards and placing the shiny stone on the lawn had been no problem, oddly enough, and sure enough the child walked towards it. The elf cried out in despair but the child would not be deterred and grabbed the stone and landed beside the man in black.
The man in black looked down on his son with a smile. The boy looked at the stone with a confused frown then looked up at the man. He didn't utter a sound or change his expression as the man picked him up and disapparated.