A/N : Hello all! (: this is my very first fanfic under this new name. (: I hope you'll enjoy the prolouge and please please please read and review k? i hope you'll like it.
lots of love-- lovecupid-
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They all belong rightfully to JK Rowling and if I did, I'd be out dating Tom Felton. (:
Prolouge
Turning Good; Evil
A congregation of Death Eaters settled outside a three storey house on a lone street in an undisclosed location. The Death Eaters gathered right ouside the large oak doors of the large house in the pouring rain. The night was cold, but a certain chill that settled on their shoulders did not come from the weather; but from fear.
The Death Eaters stood warily outside the doors, all hooded and cloaked in their signature black cloaks with silver linings. At the back of the hood, a clear 'D.E.' lined in silver could be clearly seen. Their hands were all gloved with dragon skin, the most expensive and lavish kind, showing the clear importance of this particular group of Death Eaters. The rest of the Death Eaters had but mere flimsy black cotton cloaks and no gloves at all. Whilst this group had silk cloaks and dragon skin gloves.
But no matter how these material things cost, they could not give them the strength and courage they needed now.
A particular short and stout Death Eater trembled violently against the cold, his hood fell, exposing dark raven hair. The other Death Eaters cast a glance at him, while others had no reaction. But he looked up at the Leader of the elite group, his cool blue eyes usually stoic and emotionless, now filled with unseen fear.
Gripping his cloak tightly, he spoke in a trembling voice.
"You..You do know that this is our fourth failed mission," he said, speaking to the Leader of the pack, a tall hooded one who bore an air of arrogance and pride, cloaked in a special dark green cloak with silver hood. The Leader had his hand firmly placed on the handle, and was preparing to enter the house when his subordinate spoke.
"I know that Avery!" snarled the Leader, "And stop trembling like a coward you idiot!"
Avery's head was bent now in shame as the other Death Eaters, despite their personal fears; clucked disapprovingly at Avery.
"I was just saying-" Avery countered in his own defense, but was quickly and rudely cut off mid-sentece.
"I know you," the Leader glanced at the cowering Avery, then at the rest of the group,"..No, all of you, are afraid to face up to the consenquences of our failure..And you all do not wish to meet your fate behind these doors. I shall, instead, go alone, seeing how its more my fault than any of yours."
A silent huge wave of relief washed over the group of elite Death Eaters, and a few were caught heaving sighs of relief, while Avery expressed his relief in a loud sigh and words of 'comfort' to the Leader, whose grip on the door handle tightened considerably.
"Alright, thanks..And um, good..good luck." Avery muttered, and reached out a hand to pat the Leader, who responded with a snarl of annoyance.
The rest of the group nodded in agreement with Avery, and muttered their well-wishes, echoing similar sentiments.
The Leader, a good one he was, though arrogant and haughty, adknowledged all of this with a curt nod. Despite how dark it already was, the rest of the Death Eaters could have sworn they saw traces of fear in their Leader's eyes as he watched them all apparate away one by one.
As the the Death Eaters all left hurriedly, glad as hell, this young hooded Death Eater took a deep breath, and calmed himself down. He was the youngest leader in the entire following of Death Eaters. When he was handpicked to join the ranks of the leaders, many other Death Eaters were appalled, shocked, and some resented. But there was no use for resentment, you were merely killed with a simple curse and completely forgotten.
Resentment to the Lord's wishes was not nicely reciprocated. You would be killed, and your body left to rot without a decent burial. Resentment was a greater sin than betrayal, because betrayal usually meant you got killed by the Dark Lord himself, while if you resent, it was a mere junior who would kill you.
Either way, nothing could stop the Dark Lord from choosing this particular young lad to be the leader of his elite group. But now, the youngling stood outside the house and supressed shudders of fear. Maybe this task of leader was too hard to be, but he could not reject the Dark Lord, nor tell him that he wished to quit. He could only grit his teeth and go in as he left the house 3 weeks ago; proud and tall.
With that, the leader tightened his hood and with a distinct renewed air of arrogance and power, he threw open the oak doors and entered the cold dark corridor, up a flight of creaky stairs, and into the premises of Voldermort.
As the young leader entered the second floor of the house, a single solitary room stood out from a row of other rooms. That room emitted an eerie green light around its doors that made even the bravest Death Eater feel frightened. But this proud though ill-fated leader was not about to stop and give up now, much less cower away. He only fastened his cloak, brushed a few stray hairs of his silk cloak, and trudged on towards that particular room.
But that resolve to be brave quickly broke down as he reached the rosewood door of that room. The door glowed a bright green as he came closer, and he could not help but shudder. Images of Death Eaters who had been killed(for failing their missions) flashed into his mind as he edged closer to the door-and to meeting his fate.
This was his fourth failed mission, surely nothing but death awaited him beyond these doors he thought.
"Only way to know is to find out now," he mummered darkly to himself, his gloved hand raised, and knocked on the door, whose sound resounded through the corridors. He did not have to wait long to find out what exactly was in store for him...
"Come in," a cold metallic voice rang through the door, like nails on a blackboard, and the door creaked an opening just large enough for the Death Eater to enter.
Inside, the room was grand and majestic; if not eerie and ghostly. Decked completely in black from its black walls to its tinted windows, to the plush bearskin rug that adorned the carpeted floor, the room was a picture of majesty and royalty. A dark silk curtain hung around a leather armchair, shielding it from view, its black tassels barely touching the floor. A large bed was hidden from view by a black screen admist other finery. There was also a fire place, but the fire within it emitted no warmth to the bone-chilling room.
All this immense finery would have caused even the richest wizard to gawk, but this Death Eater had seen it one too many times to even take a second glance. Without hesitation(he couldn't possibly stop now right) he strode purposefully towards the black curtain and stopped a few feet away, dropping down on his knees, his hood was down, his head bent, his grey eyes filled with guilt.
"How did it go, Draco?"
Draco Malfoy continued kneeling on the floor, he shivered as the cool metallic voice spoke.
"It did not go well my Master." said Draco softly, his voice trembled slightly with fear.
A hand, though it had no flesh and just bone, gripped the black tassels of the curtain tightly, and tugged at it, revealing the Dark Lord, Voldermort, with his snake like blood shot eyes that now glanced upon his favoured Death Eater.
Getting up from the snug chair, Voldermort placed his snake back on the floor, before he made his way towards Draco, and landed a cold bony hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Now my boy, don't kneel. Stand up." said Voldermort, gripping Draco's shoulder in what was a comforting gesture, but in fact Voldermort was close to killing the boy.
Draco nodded numbly, he knew this was a pretense, and that Voldermort was angrier than ever. Draco got up gracefully, and his white blond hair fell into his eyes.
"Thank you my Lord," he mumbled incohenrently, still staring at the floor.
Voldermort merely nodded. The Dark Lord had weakened considerably Draco could see, from his blood shot eyes, that now seemed weary and tired; to his shaking hand(though it was more bone than anything). Voldermort walked back and sunk into his armchair, beckoning Draco to come closer.
"Why did it fail again?" asked Voldermort, his voice barely audible. Voldemort picked up his snake and carassed it fondly, while keeping his eyes on Draco firmly.
"My Lord, when we arrived at Albercroft's Hill, it was just nearly peaceful mi'Lord, not a sound could be heard. Obviously we had the element of surprise and shock on our side. We were very confident of finally making you proud," Draco mummered guiltily, he was now barely a meter away from the Dark master.
Voldermort nodded, and closed his eyes, his snake slithered around his neck.
"We reached the cottage, and indeed my Lord, Dumbledore had led his students there. Potter, Weasley and the mudblood Granger were all present amongst nearly two hundred remaining living students. Sir, it was clear to us that they were unprepared, but when we started the attack, a sudden clear shield; a force field I'd say, blocked our entire group out."
Voldermort's eyes flew open. "A shield you say? How..clever."
Draco paused, and nodded. "Yes, my Lord, we did not expect that."
"Understandably Dumbledore had a few tricks up his rotton sleeve too." mused Voldermort, and motioned Draco to continue.
"It may be so my Lord, but he did not show those tricks to us. The shield was not from him Sir, but from Granger. The rest of the muggle loving fools were clearly shocked, and it took them quite awhile to react. But Granger caused such a diversion that they soon fled, and Dumbledore himself countered our attacks. We then pursued the group, but the mudblood once again cast a spell on the group, and my Lord, try as we may, we could not find them later on."
Voldermort rose angrily this time, and he gripped the arms of the chair tightly as he walked towards Draco.
"Could not find them? What do you mean Draco!" snarled Voldermort, his breath could be felt on Draco's face now, just inches away. Draco could clearly see the anger bubbling within his Master, and did not hesitate to sink to his knees again.
"I failed you my Master, but an invisiblity spell was cast, I could not remove it hard as I tried, and Granger took chance to hit Nott with a curse, and he attacked me instead, and broke my concentration, leading to the entire group escaping," Draco paused, "we did not even kill a single one."
Voldermort heaved a sigh, his anger subsided as quickly as it came up. He could not be angry with his favourite Death Eater, afterall, Draco Malfoy was going to be his sucessor no matter what. The boy was incredibly talented with the Dark Arts, and had a natural affliction with Dementors, the choice was clear.
Draco felt a hand land on his head, and Voldermort's metallic voice rang in his ears.
"Helen Granger you say, orchestrated this entire escapade?"
"Not Helen my Master, but Hermione, Hermione Granger. And yes sir, she did. She's in my year, we would have been in seventh year together. Granger's a mudblood it may be, but she is far wise beyond her years." supplied Draco.
Voldermort nodded, and motioned Draco to get up, which he did quickly, and follow him.
Voldemort stopped infront of the window of his room. The view outside was hazy, and it was raining, the raindrops peltered the tinted windows.
Gesturing for Draco to come closer, Voldermort reached out a hand and clasped Draco's shoulder.
"Draco, you know the plans I have for you, do you not?"
Draco nodded numbly.
"You may have failed quite a certain amount of times, but that cannot deny your capability. It only tells me that someone is slightly better at our game than you are." said Voldermort softly.
"Do you mean Granger sir?" asked Draco curiously, what was the Dark Lord bothering about a mere mudblood now?
Voldermort smirked. "You guessed correctly. Now Draco, the last three missions all failed because of.." he trailed off.
"Granger." admitted Draco grudgingly.
"Yes Hermione Granger was the reason. Draco, have you ever heard the saying: "keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?'"
Draco nodded again, this time clearly confused.
"I can't have a valuable asset like Granger floating around with Dumbledore now can I? She is clearly the reason they have escaped so many times."
"But what do you wish? That we capture her?" asked Draco completely puzzled now.
"No, no, not capture her my boy," Voldermort shook his head violently, "but bring her closer to us, induct her into our world; fill her mind with the Dark Arts!"
Draco was shocked, but even more shocked at what Voldermort said next.
"Turn good, to evil." he hissed.
"How?" Draco stuttered. Hermione Granger was like the epitome of 'good', this was one hell of a weird plan, thought Draco.
Voldermort smiled evilly now, but there was something about his smile that waried Draco. Voldermort sank down back on his armchair, and petted his snake.
"Hermione Granger is a talented witch, powerful no doubt; but she is a woman Draco. Women are vile when they are angry, powerful when they are scorned, and fearless when it comes to protecting their lovers. Granger is but a woman Draco, a powerful smart woman, yes, but still a woman." Voldermort started, still smiling."She is too valuable to be left untouched with Dumbledore. Clearly the old faggot has forgotten about this witch, and clearly thinks of her as a child still, wanting to protect her and use adults instead to help him. We cannot have that now, can we? Such a undiscovered diamond hidden amongst trolls."
Draco was now intriguied. "What do you propose my Master?"
Voldermort placed a bony finger to his lipless mouth. "Shush and listen Draco."
Draco nodded, and sat in a chair not too far from Voldermort.
"Granger must be lured to our side Draco. Not captured, not killed, not kidnapped. Lured my dear Draco, lured." Voldermort drummed his fingers against the chair.
"By who?" asked Draco cautiously casting a glance at Voldermort, who by now was positively radiating with glee.
"By you." Voldermort finished, smiling at Draco, whose mouth now hung slightly open in shock. "Yes, by you Draco. You are devishly good looking, talented, sleath and cunning coniving..all those traits make you the right bait to lure Granger into our den."
"She is so upright and righteous my Lord, even Satan couldn't bring her down to hell!" burst out Draco.
"Satan couldn't, but you can."
"How? How can I not failed in this?"
"By making her fall for you Draco!" the Dark Lord now stood up excitedly.
"Fall..Fall for me? My lord, you want me to marry a mudblood!"
"Yes."
"What, why, how?" stuttered Draco.
"Draco, you and I know that half-bloods are powerful, and maybe mudbloods are disgusting. But seeing Granger was the cause of your failed missions, how can you not change your view? Even I, as the Dark Lord, I abhor muggles, I loathe muggle lovers, but Granger has changed my view of mudbloods. Our purebloodness is dying out Draco, I myself cannot claim to be pureblood, for my father was a bastard son of a bitch. My mother maybe a witch, but she was nonetheless half-blood too." Voldermort snarled. "I have come to accept that theres nothing I can do about mudbloods, except kill them and retain the best of the scum. Granger is the best of the scum. She is better than any of the Death Eaters I have now Draco. You and her are similar in intelligence, rivaled in academics and talent. If you have her on our side Draco, we can and will achieve everything we've wanted and more."
The Dark Lord now spoke in desperation and hope.
"I..I do not believe this my Lord. You, you sir, professed to hate mudbloods!" choked Draco.
Voldermort took a sharp breath. "Believe my words Draco, we will die out if we continue with our pureblood lines. It is the truth and I cannot deny that at least. Granger may be a mudblood Draco, but you and I know their side will win if we do not have a victory soon enough! And Granger is their trump card! She is the reason we fail!"
Draco could only sink into the chair, shaking his head slightly. This was all too much.
"You and her together Draco, her on our side..I am weakening Draco..Everyone on this accursed land knows that! But I need to have a successor, and I've found one in you Draco. You need a wife, and I've found that in Granger."
"Master, I could always marry Pan-"
"Parkinson does not have an iota of intelligence when compared to Granger! I'm not singing her praises now, but she is the most powerful witch now. We need her Draco, I need her power and her talent to help me rule!" shouted the Dark Lord now fuming.
Draco sensed his displeasure at his resentment, and quickly gave in.
"Al..Alright my Lord, what may you have me do?" he said softly, quivering slightly.
Voldermort grinned widely, and took another breath, calming down. "You will make her fall for you Draco. You and I shall play this game of love. You will from tonight, stumble your way towards Dumbledore. Cower at his feet and claim your loyalty to the other side. I shall temporaily remove your mark, and injure you so it may seem you've really turned your back on me.. All this is in pretence. All to better your journey into Granger's heart. You will become a traitor Draco, to gain their trust. And when time's ripe, she's in love with you, you are to marry her, and then everything shall fall in place. You will kill them all Draco, and bring your bride and return to my lair."
"Tonight?" Draco choked, all this barely registering in his mind.
"Yes, tonight. I shall announce your 'betrayal' to the masses. Remember, this is OUR game Draco. No one else will know about this, so expect nothing less than agression from your peers." mummered Voldermort.
Draco felt cold all over, his hands felt clamy and sweaty. Betrayal? All this tonight? And he had to get Granger to fall for him? That would mean cooing up to Pothead and Weasel!
The mere thought disgusted Draco, and scowl found its way to Draco's face.
"I know what you are thinking of Draco, Potter and Weasley are your biggest walls to overcome while on your way through Granger's heart. Take care that they are important figures. I want them killed." Voldermort said, clutching his albino snake tightly in his arm.
"My lord, this is a bone crushing weight you have placed upon me." mummered Draco, thinking of how he was going to convince people he was a traitor to Voldermort when they had seen him attacking them just moments ago.
"Yes it is, but you shall heave it away, and proceed with haste."
Draco bit his lip. "And if I fail?"
"There is nothing to fail. Play your game Draco, make her fall for you. This is one mission you cannot fail and will not fail." Voldermort hissed, his short-temperness returning.
Yet Draco took no heed of the impatience in Voldermort's voice.
"But Sir, not that I am unwilling, but how am I to convince them that I'm a traitor when they just withnessed me attacking them?" Draco questioned, cockying a blond eyebrow.
Voldermort sighed, and drummed his fingers repeatedly.
"That Draco, is a good question." he said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had settled on them moments ago.
Draco smirked, thinking that could get him out of this 'mission', "Not that I'm trying to make this any harder-"
Voldermort raised a hand to silence Draco. "I know you are not willing to 'degrade' yourself Draco, but Granger is worthy. You'll have plenty of time to figure that out when you transfer to their side, but don't bother yourself and me with such worries."
Draco nodded obediently, the smirk washed right off his face. And I thought I could get out of this.
"Does Dumbledore know where your loyalties lie?"
"He assumes they lie with you Sir." said Draco, watching the Dark Lord carefully.
"Then you shall convince him so. Better yet, sign up with him. Yes, go tell him that you've had enough killing, plead a little; shed a tear or two, and he will be taken in by you soon enough Draco." said Voldermort, a smirk seeping into his face. "Understand?"
"Understood."
Draco heaved a sigh, and Voldermort beckoned him to come closer. "Push your sleeve up Draco."
Draco did as he was told, and revealed the dark mark. Voldermort eyed it and pulled out his wand, tapping Draco's arm and whispered, '"Immendi" and the mark disappeared.
Draco stared at the now pale clean skin where before a large ugly brutal mark had been inflicted upon it.
"I shall place the mark back once you have accomplished your mission. Otherwise, you will only see me when I call for you, through a different way you shall know soon. You will be treated like a traitor from now onwards." said Voldermort.
"Yes Master."
"Alright, now, I shall inflict the cruciatus curse for awhile, and you will then be immediately deported towards their latest hideout at Filan Canyon up north. Bear with it Draco, and I hope you will succeed." said Voldermort seriously, gripping his wand.
Draco barely flinched, and simply removed his Death Eater cloak and prepared to recieve the curse.
"Crucio!"
(: there you go! the first chappie. or prolouge la. from then on Draco starts this really scary mission to convince everyone he's good, whilst he still works for old voldie. so review ok? (: