A/N: Hello again! I just want to thank those of you who have reviewed at this time because y'all are awesome and the fuel to my creative fire! (well, you and a minor caffeine overdose but who's counting?) I also want to give another big THANK YOU to Cadence for all her help and support. This chapter, as you will soon realize, is a completely new chapter! I'm rather proud of it and I would love some feedback on how you guys feel about the way it strays from my original story (though it still follows the main plot). Anyways, without further ado please enjoy chapter three! –A

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, settings, and events from the Twilight and Harry Potter books and/or movies. Those rights belong to Stephanie Meyer and J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Three

"I am disappointed Lucius. Here we are with summer almost at a close and still you have yet to revenge our beloved Bellatrix and redeem the name of Malfoy. What have you to say for yourself?" the great Lord Voldemort demanded from his throne-like, wing-backed chair in the library at Malfoy manor where he had long since made himself at home.

"I assure you my Lord, it is taking time for the potion to mature but soon I will have a means of tracking the insolent brat that no one will have thought to counter act. She will pay for the dishonour she has brought upon my family," Lucius practically whimpered at his master's feet, hands trembling where they grasped the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"You had best be right and not fail me, for your sake and that of your pathetic son. Crucio!" the Dark Lord commanded, voice emotionless and echoing with a sharp hiss. Lucius writhed in pain at his feet, screaming himself hoarse as his limbs flailed and he crumpled in on himself spastically. Lord Voldemort laughed cruelly but even his laugh lacked any true emotional coating, the slits of his nose flared as he breathed in his follower's fear and despair. No one was mightier than he! They would all fear and despair and the would bow before him no matter what that pathetic Dumbledore cared to believe! They would fall!

Cackling still, he released his curse and dismissed the tall blond with contempt. Good help was so hard to come by these days and with Bellatrix gone he was feeling particularly surly.

Nagini, he hissed in parstletongue, allowing himself a brief smile of pleasure as his beautiful pet slithered forth from the shadows. So powerful. So venomous. All his to control.

Yes snake-speaker?

Watch him, the Dark Lord commanded before turning his mind back to his plans for the man's son, ultimately quite pleased with himself.

xXx

It was well past supper and the chilled remains of his evening meal were still waiting for a house elf to take them away when Draco finally pulled himself out of his fretful thoughts over his sister. He had to trust that that meddlesome old man could keep her safe. Surely if he could keep that fool Potter alive for so long he could do the same for Bella, and yet fear churned his stomach at the thought of what his father was undoubtedly planning for her.

His sister had always been the rebellious one, skipping lessons on etiquette with their tutors to go play outside and refusing to understand that she couldn't play with the muggles at the park because they were muggles. She played in mud and chased gnomes around the garden and chatted with house elves to pass the time. He had always loved, always treasured her and striven to protect her fragile innocence from their father who never seemed to understand her. Draco had loved his father as a child, he admired his strength and envied the respect in the eyes of those who knew him but his twin could care less for politics and heritage and it drove his parents mad that they couldn't seem to 'make her see sense.' When it was necessary he had always done what he could to draw their attention away from her after she had done something particularly bad but ultimately it had broken his heart when she was sent away to Beauxbatons because she couldn't seem to take the hint and at least pretend to be the good little pureblood socialite.

He had been bitter on that first day and on his ride on the Express, and he knew it had cost him some friends but he just couldn't see how any of it mattered without his twin there to share it with him and make stupid, inane comments to the trolley lady and their peers and discuss how 'wouldn't it just be so perfect if she got sorted into hufflepuff! That would be a howler from father worth hearing!' And then the time had come when she had finally come to Hogwarts after Voldemort returned in their fourth year and been sorted into Gryffindor of all places! (not that he could really bring himself to be surprised that the hat had placed her there!) And another year had passed with him barely able to be seen with her lest he invoke his father's wrath while she whispered her little secrets with the other Gryffindors in the halls, and now this!

"She just had to go and kill Bellatrix!" he stated in the frustrating silence of their once shared double suite where her room sat empty across from their shared sitting room. It wasn't enough for her to defy father but she just had to go and risk her foolish neck like some bloody witless Gryffindor while he was stuck here left with no way to avoid being sworn into the death eaters and worried sick! He wanted to throttle her and scream at her and hug her just to know that she was still there, still safe. Oh sure, he would now the moment anything happened to her even if Lucius didn't tell him, they were magical twins after all, but that wasn't the point! He needed to see her! He needed to know that the mental damage she had undoubtedly taken from using the killing curse wasn't tearing her apart! He needed to see that the Department of Mysteries had left her physically whole and unscathed and that she was going to be just fine!

He just barely restrained himself from throwing a vase and shrieking his frustration and it was good that he had because the rattling of his door a second later announced the presence of his father and he knew what this summons meant. He knew it was unavoidable and his blood ran cold and he wanted to run kicking and screaming but that would only result in his death and he couldn't help his sister if he was dead and damn it! He was a Slytherin and he didn't want to bloody die like some stupid noble Gryffindor! So he straightened his back and smoothed over his robes before walking to his door and following his father's ashen face into the hall. So he had been tortured again.

Good.

Stoically, with a clam mask in place to shield his terror from those who would only twist it into fodder for their own perverse glee, Draco followed his Father into the library where Voldemort was waiting with his inner circle. He recognized their faces and kept his mind busy by facing and naming them all in turn: Peter Pettigrew, Avery, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Rodolphus, and lastly Snape, Voldemort's little spy. Draco wished he could bring himself to hate the man who had been more like a Father to him and Bella for as long as he could remember, but couldn't seem to do it, a fact which shamed him. Each of these men would leap at a chance to harm her. Draco didn't let the anger reach his eyes.

"Welcome," the Dark Lord began from across the room. Draco was once more forced to swallow his hatred.

"It is an honor, my Lord," he replied instead, falling to his knees and prostrating before him. He would find a way to use this to his advantage, and he would help Bella, he just needed to get through this without letting them suspect.

"Rise young Malfoy, it is time you joined my ranks. Do you choose to deny this honor?" The man who was more serpant than anything else asked in a tone that promised death if the answer were a refusal. Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat and kept his eyes on the floor lest the Dark Lord read his true intentions there.

"Yes, please my Lord, I want nothing more than to serve you." He replied emotionlessly.

The Dark Lord laughed and Draco allowed himself a disgusted shudder, knowing the arrogant man would take it for reverence and delight and possibly fear. From somewhere in the shadows of the room a barrier was released and the terrified hyperventilation of a young girl was released. Draco's eyes snapped up involuntarily as realization turned his bones to lead. The girl was small, perhaps nine or ten with long blond hair and blue eyes remarkably like that of his sister. Her body was trembling with fear and desperate confusion shone from her blue eyes that had long since rid themselves of what tears they could muster. He didn't sense any magic from her. So she was a muggle or a squib, he thought to himself as he looked at her broken espression and prepared for the command that would follow.

"A life for a life. In order to receive the mark and begin a new life as one of my chosen army of Death Eaters, you must take the life of another, but first, come forward." The Dark Lord Voldemort ordered him.

Draco did so with mechanical steps as he forced himself to look away from the girl's tear stained face. He didn't want to do this! How could he? What had she ever done wrong, this girl who looked so much like his beloved sister? How could he bring himself to look her in the eyes and seal her fate? And yet he knew he must. If he didn't kill her one of the other death eaters surely would, and he would be dead, and his sister would remain unprotected. He forced his feet forward step by step until he was kneeling directly at the dark lord's feet.

"Raise your left arm," Voldemort hissed

Draco complied, forcing himself to look down and not tremble with dread.

"Morsmordre" the Dark Lord hissed and a black stain flooded from his wand and settled over the inside of his arm. "Now you must kill to complete the spell," Voldemort demanded and Draco made himself stand and face the girl across the room. At least if he killed her she wouldn't suffer. If he hesitated, he would die and she would be tortured for sport right beside him. He had to do this. He forced his eyes to stay open in silent witness do her death as he whispered the spell that would end her life.

"Avada Kedavra," and the whole world was pain. He fell to his knees and rolled to his back while violent shock after violent shock flooded his body from the newly formed mark on his arm. Tears of pain and anger and despair and regret flooded his eyes and escaped his barriers as they shattered and he writhed on the floor screaming. Shite it burned! But he couldn't help thinking he deserved it. That little girl's panicked expression filled his mind's eye as he writhed and screamed and cried and all the while all he could think was I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, forgive me Bella, I tried, I'm sorry and the only reason it couldn't fall from his lips through his shattered filter was because his throat was to busy ripping itself raw with screams and all around him Voldemort's minions smiled and laughed their delight and Voldemort spoke through it all.

"Welcome Draco, Death Eater," and Draco wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and cease to be, but that wouldn't help Bella and she needed him.

xXx

When his son's screaming finally ceased, Lucius allowed himself a moment of pride. At least one of his children had not been a complete failure. Draco was weak, that much was unavoidable, but he was not so weak as his sister and when Draco looked to him a moment later he allowed a bit of that pride to show on his face and bowed his head ever so slightly in respect. The name of Malfoy might be redeemed yet.

When the meeting was over Lucius swept out into the hall and considered his suspicions of Severus. The man had practically helped raise Draco, he should be proud, delighted in what Lucius son and heir had become, and yet he had stood there with a blank look that Lucius could nonetheless read despair in. He had gone to school with Severus, they had been allies for the majority of their respective lives, and Lucius could read him better than anyone. There was something not right in that disappointed stare but he decided to save his information until he had proof. The Dark Lord wouldn't take kindly to groundless accusations against his right hand man.

Three flights of stairs and three wings later, Lucius arrived in his underground potions lab and laid aside his Death Eater robes before rolling up his sleeves and going to check on the simmering potion that was now a vibrant green with hazy amber fumes. It was time to add the diced kelpie hearts at last and there were just a few more ingredients left after that. Soon, his blood tracking potion would be complete and with just a few drops of his own blood he would have the location of his daughter. A twisted smirk lit his face and he allowed himself a low hum of pleasure. No one soiled the Malfoy name and lived.

A/N: Well, there you have it! Poor Draco! His life will get better soon enough but I can't help feeling sorry for the poor git! Let me know your thoughts: I love to hear from you!-A