Prologue
Along a dark road hurried a tall figure, wrapped in a cloak. As it passed beneath a flickering streetlamp, the worried features were thrown into sharp relief. This figure slinked along a dark alley, through the side entrance of an abandoned building, up three flights of stairs and, finally, through a door.
Towards the far side of the room was a chair, and in it, a man. At least, to a casual glance, the chair's occupant appeared to be an ordinary man. Upon closer inspection, he looked more like a snake. A snake surveying the world from cold, red eyes set in milk-white skin. He too wore a black cloak, and was fingering a thin, long wand.
"My Lord," the newly arrived figure edged forward nervously, "My Lord, you have news for me?"
Voldemort appraised the Death Eater for a minute, and then spoke. "Tell me, what does your boy think of our organization?"
"My Lord, Draco wants nothing more than to be used for your cause."
"Does he? Well then, I have a job for him."
The ice-cold voice dropped low as it hissed its instructions.
"My Lord, my son will be honored."
"Be sure he is. And," the red eyes narrowed to threatening slits, "…Be sure he does not fail."
"Yes my Lord. I will see to it," Lucius Malfoy's eyes narrowed to slits nearly as cruel as his Master's, "…He will not fail."