Okay this is my first fic, so please be gentle :)

Chapter 1

His eyes fixed intently their gaze upon his grubby fingers, drawn into a fist. They had twitched constantly throughout his delivery of news and it was only now, in the quiet that heralded the storm that would surely come, that they laid still. He dare not raise his head to face the man before him. And this was curious. Only last week he would have stared Lucius Malfoy straight in the eyes. And there he would find the eyes of a friend. The laughter lines, he knew, still framed the pupils. But now? He doubted they would ever crinkle again.

The hall was large- everything was large in the Malfoy's manor. Everything decadent, everything designed to scream their good fortune to the world. Golden ornate frames hung on the wall displaying the past generations of Malfoy. The most recent and the most prominent hung above the fireplace, basked in the soft glow of the fire that had now succumbed to embers.

The portrait showed the man before him; proud and commanding, his silver hair lounging about his shoulders and his hand gripped tightly his cane that housed his own deadly wand. To his left stood a woman, alike to him, but her features were softer. Her head was titled to his shoulder lovingly but her eyes were directed to the boy who knelt at Lucius' feet. He was around nine years of age and the spitting image of his parents. He was no more remarkable- an average boy. Just as the family were no more remarkable.

"Quirrel? You tell me that he has the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, or what is left of him anyway." the man gabbled pleased but also wary of the broken silence, fearful of what it might bring.

"And he wishes to raise him once more… through the Philosophers Stone?"

"Yes, sir."

Lucius breathed in deeply. Concern flickered across his eyes. For the first time in ten years he was uncertain.

The woman had appeared a short time ago silently, now she came forward and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder offering him a quiet strength. She spoke to the man before her in a pleasant but firm tone, "thank you for bringing us the news, I trust you will have a safe journey home".

"But- what are you going to do?" the man asked with rising panic.

"What needs to be done will, I am sure, be done in time. It really is getting late, I'm sure your wife will be anxious. Do you wish to use the fireplace? We have plenty of floo powder."

He dismissed her offer angrily and started forward to lay a hand on Lucius' robe but stopped himself at the look on his face.

Instead it was Narcissa who moved towards him and gently took his elbow as she led him from the hall. Once she had checked he had left she strode back towards her husband. She stood before him so he breathed in her sweet scent and felt the warmth of her breath on his face.

She stroked a finger against his cheek holding his face lightly in her palms. Her pupils followed the finger as it trailed slowly up her husbands cheek until it tickled his eyelid.

Suddenly she inhaled quickly, catching her breath in fright at what she saw nestled there. A shadow. Small, fleeting but unmistakable, that same darkness that had occupied his eyes every second of every day during the War.

"Mum?"

She melted away from Lucius quickly and faced her son.

"Draco, darling, are you all packed?"

He nodded then flipped his head towards his father "who was that man?" he asked.

"No one," she soothed "just an old friend sweetheart." She placed her arms around his shoulders and steered him towards the pantry "shall we see if we have some sweets for the journey tomorrow? We'll find you your wand remember? My little boy! You'll soon be my little fully fledged wizard."

"Muum," he grumbled "I'm eleven, I'm not little!"

She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes, her mind was still resting on the black in the eye of her husband who stood staring desolately into the flames.

3 years later…

Draco Malfoy sat sandwiched between his mother and an old witch who was dozing into her match programme in the Minister of Magic's luxury box. The match was well over and he was bored. His father was in the corner discussing the merits of collaborating with the Bulgarian stock trade in terms of the economy, with the Minister. It seemed that it was well run in terms of offering high standard magical roots and herbs. Not that Lucius really cared. It was all more of a ploy to keep up appearances.

His mother patted his hand. "Did you enjoy that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly "was ok".

She tutted in mock disapproval. "All that money spent on these tickets. We give you a luxury box, the finest companions and a chance to watch history in the making. And you think it was ok? A true teenager."

He allowed a small smile.

"And those veela? Come on, don't you tell me they weren't mesmerising. Those bodies! So hot!"

"Mother!" he said shocked.

She giggled a little "is that not the word you kids use these days? Darling, even I admit they were gorgeous." she leant over and pinched his cheek, "soon you'll have a girl. If not already, I doubt you'd tell your old mother." she glanced towards her husband and a shadow passed over her eyes. "Take care of her Draco."

He squirmed. "There's no girl."

Narcissa broke off her gaze and smiled back at her son. "Ok darling, as you insist. Why don't you go explore? Find your friends? Its dull here, they'll be talking business for the rest of the evening no doubt."

He nodded dutifully. He didn't bother telling her that he had no friends. Oh, associates, yes, he had them. And hangers on. And those who idolised him through their own fear. But not friends. She'd only be concerned and he hated causing his mother pain. She had enough of that.

He moved through the forest with an air of bored arrogance that served as his natural state. he kicked at the moss on the forest floor tilting his foot every now and then as the moist tendrils clung to his shoe.

He could hear the chatter of the people in the tents as they cooked their meals. He had never been camping. Their family holidays when he was young had always been to grand hotels or else they had stayed with members of the Ministry. Some years France, Rome, once to the Seychelles, but they had never been camping. His father had despised it- Muggles camped. And he doubted his mother would enjoy it. He could not imagine her serene self in a cramped tent, sleeping on the floor like an animal. But he would have loved it. Just once.

They hadn't holidayed in three years. The last real family time they had had was just before he came to Hogwarts. After that Father had changed- he had no time for them now.

There was a rustle and out of the trees came a boy he vaguely knew. He was in the year below, Slytherin House, of course. Draco hadn't bothered to learn the names he had no need of. The fact that he had no recollection of him told him immediately the boy was unimportant- no ministry ties or strong blood lineage.

He was wild eyed and straining for breath as he caught sight of Draco.

"Death Eater's!" he gasped.

Immediately Draco's interest pricked, "where?"

The boy gestured behind his shoulder, "Back. They've got Muggles. Playing with them. Like puppets." he was obviously disturbed, his face had a slight tinge to it.

Draco pushed him aside and headed eagerly in the direction the boy had come from leaving him disorientated and alone in the woods.

The throngs of people were pushing against him trying to pick him up in the fast paced tide of wizards hastening to get away. He fought against it savagely- what did he have to fear? He was a Malfoy. Besides, he wanted to show his face, he wanted to stand next to a Death Eater and laugh along with them. He wanted to point his wand at a Muggle and watch them dance before him. He imagined his father's booming laugh at the skill of his son and his chest swelled at the thought.

Grumbling he fought his way out of the mass of bodies and stumbled a little out onto the campsite. His eyes set on something that made him smile sickly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles. D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around…they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch." Harry Potter glared at him.

He made him sick. The vanity that radiated off him. Cocky. A Halloween reject- Frankenstein's pal with the scar to prove it. Potter, the prodigal son.

Weasley bristled too at his words but didn't venture his own. He was, afterall, just Potter's plaything.

There were a number of things wrong with the Weasleys. The fact that they were poor, that they fawned over muggles, that they persisted in muddying the bloodline. They bred like rabbits, his father had always said, vermin. Rabbits to match their carrot tops. And of course there was only one action to take with vermin- extinction.

As for Hermione Granger… well she was a Mudblood. There was nothing more to add. It said it all.

"Have it your way, Potter. If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

A few hours later Draco sidled silently, like an ungracious cat, back into the sheltered compound at the entrance to the main arena. It was dark. The screaming had stopped an hour or so ago. The spectacle itself of the muggle suspended in mid-air was amusing but uninteresting. He'd felt rather disgusted; touching muggles, even with the end of a wand was somewhat dirty. Muggles bored him anyway- little more than beasts. Although the Dark Mark in the sky had been a welcome distraction. He wished he could have done it.

The corridor was empty which suited Draco well; he had never been a people person. Suddenly from beyond the closed door to his right he heard an irate voice then a sharp scream of pain as a flash of light crept out from the crook in the door. He shouted out automatically causing the low mumblings to stop immediately.

The door flew open. Lucius Malfoy flung his head out and looked shocked to see his son standing uncertainly in the hallway.

"Draco, what on earth are you doing sneaking around?" Lucius snapped.

"I err, thought I heard something." he stammered confused.

"Heard what? Your mother and I were just discussing money and other matters. You shouldn't disturb us- you know how we have built up a legacy for yourself, you could have been anyone, prying into our private business" he stared in disapproval at his son. "Luckily we were through. Now, have you everything you came with? You've not left anything? It is time for us to leave, certain events have meant we should leave for home rather than stay in such a place for the night. I feel we are not welcome here due to past… accusations."

Draco nodded demurely as his father swept past him and down the corridor. He looked into the room to see his mother. Caught unawares she was arranging her eye makeup- her eyeliner had streaked down her face and her eyes were red. When she saw him looking she smiled apologetically.

"Stubbed my toe on the fireplace, silly thing that I am, and my eyes started watering because of the pain. Did you hear me shout? Dear me. Darling, run along and catch up your father, I won't be a minute."

He did as she asked but not before noticing the angry red welts on her neck. They were faint but definitely there, in the shape of fingers but longer and thinner than a human's- some unknown hand. Strangle marks.

Right please review, please. :)