This fiction is not in order with the series. The main plot was created before Deathly Hallows and therefore will seem to instead run in a parallel universe with alternate events.

All authors' notes will be in bold italics. Any character thoughts will appear in normal italics.

Disclaimer: I don't not own any of the Harry Potter characters or references in this fan fiction, they belong to J. K. Rowling. I am merely playing around with her genius.

Chapter One

The following takes place a year after Harry has left Hogwarts. War has been declared and Britain's wizarding world has been plunged into a state of disarray not seen since WWII.

Draco Malfoy watched the rain fall thick and fast. The force was so intense that the English countryside faded into indecipherable shapes while the wind howled low and unrelenting. He had always been fascinated by fierce storms. Their sheer power and the idea that nothing could control their ferocity never failed set him in awe. However Draco usually watched his storms from the safe confines of Malfoy manor, reclining in his large chair and in front of a roaring fire with a butterbeer or (on the odd occasion it went undetected) a firewhiskey in hand. Yes, life had certainly not turned out the way Draco had anticipated. Never did he imagine himself hiding out in a dank, decrepit cave where meals occasionally graced him. Then again he had never anticipated his father failing at something, or himself at that.

A sharp tap on the shoulder broke Draco from his reverie and he turned to glare at Blaise Zabini holding out a humble meal of bread, cheese and small portion of beef.

"We're sharing" Zabini announced flatly then proceeded to flop down next to Draco with as much grace as possible. Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise had always insisted on maintaining a certain amount of grace and arrogance, and their current situation did not seem to be any deterrent.

"Any news?" Draco asked as he popped a piece of bread into his mouth.

"Nothing groundbreaking on the other side. More deaths, more failed rescue attempts, no victories" Zabini replied. The two boys sat lost in their own thoughts. The war hadn't rid either of their natural good looks, however there were notable changes. Their eyes showed lack of sleep, their rigid forms spoke of new conformity to the old saying "Constant vigilance" and one couldn't ignore the haunted, scarred countenance of the young death eaters. They had seen sights no person, let alone two eighteen year olds should have to witness.

"I bagged a Weasley today" Blaise announced. Draco looked up.

"Day wasn't a total write off then, which one?"

"The poncy one, Peter...Patrick...Percy! That's it, Percy"

"Damn, was hoping it was Ron. Still that one was swot if ever I saw one. Tried to intimidate me once with the whole I'm a prefect spiel in second year. As if I cared, bloody Gryffindors." They both left out a soft snigger at the memory, then Draco took a swig of water. He spat it back out in disgust.

"We're on the winning side of the war and we're being subjected to this?" He snarled kicking over the jug. Blaise just shook his head and kept on eating.

"Well Draco, if you had actually killed Dumbledore, maybe you would be more highly favoured. I've said it before, it's a bloody miracle you're still alive, instead your sit around doing nothing."

Draco glared at Blaise. "I am not doing nothing around here, I still have many uses... and talents"

"Oh yes, I had forgotten, the Dark Lord must be keeping you around for your interior decorating skills. You always did have an eye for décor. Still, I don't think much to your cave designs, must be my ignorance."

"Oh sod off" Draco muttered before turning away. Blaise smiled. Draco and Blaise had always had a unique relationship. They could fire the most vulgar insults, call the other despicable names, not talk to eachother for weeks over some petty incident, but it would never stop them from being bestfriends. Blaise was a loyal friend who had stuck beside Draco through out their childhood and time at Hogwarts. They would talk about everything, friends, Gryffindors, girls, family the Dark Lord... Even now, when Draco had become a disgraced Death Eater Blaise remained his best friend despite disapproval from other Death Eaters. Draco knew he could never ask for a better friend than Blaise, he was the only one he could really talk to in this hell hole about Voldemort. Blaise also regretted joining the Dark Lord's cause, but by the time he had realised this it was too late to refuse the Dark Mark. So Draco and Blaise were left with only each other, two Death Eaters who hated the Dark Lord.

"How's your mother?" Blaise asked softly. Draco shifted.

"She's alive, father sent her on the continent. She didn't want to go, wanted to stay with him. Father saw to it that she couldn't resist though, now she's stuck there until she's sent for."

"Always had a unique way of showing he cared, Lucius did." Blaise muttered. Draco smirked in reply. More Death Eaters had arrived in the cave. They were huddled in groups whispering. The cave had been dubbed in-between, a place where Death Eaters could stay when they weren't on mission. They were only sent here on the Dark Lord's allowance, staying a few days to recuperate before setting out on another mission or remaining at a war base camp. While it may be imagined that in-between was a sign of Voldemort's benevolence, in truth it wasn't, Voldemort was never benevolent, he was pragmatic though. He knew that a few days rest would produce better results in his best followers. Being sent to in-between was considered an honour. Only the most useful and successful followers gained admittance, and then there was Draco.

Draco may have lived, but he didn't escape Voldemort's wrath. He was disgraced, not seen fit to perform in missions. The Dark Lord wouldn't even put him on the front line in battles. Draco's destiny was to remain at in-between, where had been for the last seven weeks. Draco couldn't help but admire Voldemort's intelligence. He knew that being cooped at in-between was more painful and degrading for Draco that if he was allowed a quick, death at the battle front.

Blaise had been at in-between for two days. Draco had been pleased and bitter when meeting him. It was good to see his best friend but a wound to the pride that he had be deigned worthy of in-between. Blaise had recently been part of a highly successful raid on the house of a prominent auror, producing plans for the ministry and invoices of artillery acquired with quantities by the ministry. Draco maintained that Blaise wouldn't have even been at in-between if Bella hadn't been on that raid. Bella didn't think much of her nephew and tried to see as little of him as possible. In her eyes Draco was a disgrace to the Black and Malfoy names. This was no loss to Draco, he always thought Bella was a tad nutters. He had no clue how Rodolphus put up with her, unlucky sod. In Draco's opinion his dad had bagged the best Black sister. Narcissa was smart, beautiful and unwaveringly loyal to the family. Draco allowed a smirk to cross his face. "Well" he thought "didn't the Malfoy's always get the best of everything?"

A twinge of pain nagged at Draco as he thought of his parents. He quickly shook it off. He let his gaze return to the increasing gathering of Death Eaters. They were all grouped together now and whispering in hushed excited tones. Motioning for Blaise to follow, he stood up and joined the group. Weaving through the crowd he caught snippets of conversation.

"...tonight..."

"...arriving soon..."

"...victory apparently..."

"...really pleased..."

"...new plans..."

Draco froze, was he hearing things right? Would he really be coming now? The very thought made Draco shudder. He had only met with the Dark Lord fleetingly since last year's disaster and only twice had he been alone with him. Draco still believed in the cause, but his faith in Voldemort was diminishing. More than anything he was petrified of him. He had learnt the hard way Lord Voldemort was not merciful or generous. Draco's father was always out on missions and although he'd been told he was frequently successful, Lucius had never been permitted entrance to in-between. Voldemort was still resentful towards him for the events in the department of mysteries. Lucius didn't deserve a break. Besides, Draco was at in-between and Voldemort wanted no Malfoy and son interaction. It was a miracle that Voldemort had passed over Narcissa. Draco figured she was too far away for him to care and while he could find her if he wanted, there were far more pressing matters, it seemed. "Besides" Draco thought bitterly, "he likes to have it as a threat dangling over our heads, in case we try anything".

A loud crack projected through the cave and everyone hastily bowed at the appearance of their master.

"My loyal Death Eaters..." Voldemort hissed. "We have experienced a most wonderful victory" cheers erupted from the crowd and Draco noticed Bellatrix gazing at her Lord in adoration. "We have never been in a better position and soon the ministry will tremble before us! I believe a celebration is in order... There was another chorus of cheers and Draco exchanged a glance with Blaise, there had never been anything like this suggested before and they both knew better than to feel pleased. "As many of you know there is a muggle village nearby who are become... troublesome. Why don't we pay them a visit?". "Of course" Draco thought "What better way to celebrate with some mindless violence". "Every Death Eater here shall go. This shall be a group activity, call it bonding. Don't worry, there is at least one muggle for each of you to take care of..."

Fear seized Draco, him? Killing? Torturing he could endure, being known as Dark Lord supporter and all round "bad guy" as well, but he wasn't a killer, he knew that. How could he evade this? The eternal question, plaguing him came to his mind yet again. If put in a situation, with Voldemort watching over him, could he kill someone? Draco had no more time for the thought.

"My followers, now we must go. Torture, mame, destroy. Kill the filth that purges our world. Remember their crimes. They are the enemy, we are the revolutionaries, standing up for the rights of our fellow purebloods! Preserve the ancient blood, preserve the wizarding world!" A deafening roar met his speech before the Death Eaters started dissapparating. Once everyone had left, Draco dropped to his knees. Complete and utter despair invaded him mind. "This is it? This is life? This caged existence?!?! Only let free to kill!" The moment left as quickly as it had come. He was a Malfoy, he would not relent. No matter the circumstances. "No emotions, they showed weakness. Get on with the job." Draco stood up, masked his face with cool indifference and dissapparated, making a turn that was unnecessarily over dramatic as he left.

"Well," He thought "I am a Malfoy, and if this is life, may as well add some flare."