The long July twilight faded into night. The small village lay enveloped in darkness, the only source of light coming from the moon that shone through fleecy clouds. All was peaceful. Well...for now.
Draco Malfoy stood taking in his surroundings. This was it, the night he'd redeem himself to You-Know-Who, and he wouldn't fail. He couldn't fail.
It had been almost two weeks since that night on the Astronomy Tower, and ever since Draco was aware of the suspicion that surrounded him like a black fog.
At first glance anyone would say that he looked the same: he had the same pointed features, passive expression, his lips even had the faintest hint of his signature smirk.
However if someone were to get a closer look at him they would notice that he had lost his familiar smug countenance, and he was thinner than anyone would deem normal. Dark shadows were etched under his eyes, contrasting with his pale complexion that had a sort of greyish tinge to it.
But his eyes held the cold gleam of the fanatic. They were deep and thoughtful, the eyes of a man who is used to looking at death.
How many had he witnessed? Did it really matter? These were questions that he wouldn't allow to plague his mind, not at a time like this. So he pushed the unwanted thoughts into the back of his mind like he so often did - more so now than ever - and instead turned his focus back to the more pressing matter of the present.
Cautiously he moved himself and peered over the small row of bushes in front of him. The task was simple: get in, kill, get out.
But before he could move there was a flash and a spell whizzed over his head. He dropped immediately, wand clutched tightly in his hand ready to strike if it was needed.
The spell had come from behind him which was where his gaze now flew, but there was nothing to be seen; just the dim outline of fields that spread up into the dark horizon. His enemy was undercover.
Just then a group of men came across the bridge that stood on the opposite side of the street and advanced slowly up the deserted village. They stopped only a mere fifty yards ahead. Draco could hear their voices even though they spoke in hushed whispers. His heart beat faster. It was Order members, and now he understood the true nature of his mission.
He swallowed hard at a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He was to kill them or they would kill him. All thoughts of the mysterious spell caster had now vanished from his mind.
Then round the corner of a short narrow side street came an old woman, her head covered by a tattered shawl. She began to talk to one of them. She pointed in his direction. An informer. He was trapped.
Trying to stable his heavy breathing he stumbled back slightly, the mud squelching beneath his feet. What could he do now?
If he went back he'd be called a coward, worthless, and above all a disgrace to his family; and he was certain that You-Know-Who would not take this failed mission lightly like his failure to kill his old headmaster.
A snap echoed from behind him. He turned searching for the source, but there was nothing to be seen so he turned back to see the group slowly approaching wands raised in front of them. This was his moment. Fight or flight.
"Mr Malfoy. Come."
Draco would know that voice anywhere.
He hesitated for a moment, listening to the footsteps of the group grow louder. "I don't need your help," he called out determinedly, bracing his wand for an attack.
"There is no time for your foolish nonsense; you were sent here to die," he informed Draco dryly, his black cloak moving slightly by the late summer breeze. "And has it escaped your incredibly thick skull that I vowed to protect you?"
Draco moved to open his mouth but nothing managed to escape as he felt Snape grab his arm rather tightly. Then the world around him clouded over, and soon he was engulfed by darkness.