Disclaimer: -=- Applies to all chapters, no exceptions -=- Everything you recognize from the Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling. Plot, unfamiliar nouns, dialogue, OOC-ness, weird developments that make you go "Huh?" all belong to me. No money is being made, and therefore no infringement is intended.

Bring Me Back To The Light

A/N: Hmm, how to describe this fic Dark, angsty, action-packed, with a little bit of fluff mixed in Hope you enjoy reading it, and don't forget to review! ^_^

Random Irrelevant Quote (RIQ):

"Though under Earth and throneless now I be,

Yet, while I lived, all Earth was under me."

The Silver Chair, by C.S. Lewis

:Chapter One:

Draco Malfoy entered the large, circular room that used to be Dumbledore's office, and knelt on one knee before a hooded figure sitting behind an enormous claw-footed desk.

"Rise," commanded a high, cold voice.

Draco obeyed, and got gracefully to his feet. "You sent for me, Master?"

A bone-chilling hiss affirmed his question. A skeletal hand removed the hood, revealing a face whiter than a skull's, with livid scarlet eyes, and a nose as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils. "Things are going very well, aren't they, Draco?" asked Lord Voldemort, almost lazily.

"As well as can be expected," replied the young man, although he was wondering where the question was leading to. "The wizarding world is in the palm of your hand. Your enemies are either dead or in hiding. You've created an empire."

"An empire threatened by Harry Potter!" Voldemort spat out the name, and banged his fist on the table with rage.

Draco scoffed. "He can't touch you now. No one can."

"How easily the young Malfoy forgets" Voldemort mused, his colorless lips twisting in a gruesome smile. "I underestimated Harry more than once, and each time led to my downfall. I will not make the same mistake again And I say this: as long as Harry Potter lives, the empire I, no, we have worked so hard to build is at risk."

"What do you want me to do?" Draco asked, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair.

Something about the way Voldemort's red eyes gleamed warned Draco to be on the alert. "Tell me, Draco, who are Harry's close friends?"

The young man stiffened, not liking the way this conversation was going. "You know that as well as I do---"

"When I ask a question," interrupted the Dark Lord coldly, "I expect it to be answered."

Draco lowered his gaze. "Ron Weasley and" He stopped, unable to go on. Voldemort was testing him, probing his feelings

"And?" There was a hint of malice in his master's voice.

"Her Hermione Granger." It was the first time Draco had said her name in four years, and as he did so, bittersweet emotions and memories rushed through him.

Unfortunately, Voldemort could read minds. His nostrils flaring with rage, he stood up and walked around the desk, stopping when his and Draco's faces were only several inches apart. "You are not to think of her," he hissed. "You are not to let what you felt for her back then to ruin everything we have planned I thought we had made that clear a long time ago."

Draco returned Voldemort's gaze, being the only one among the Death Eaters who could look directly into those horrible eyes without shaking in fear. "It will not happen again, Master," he coolly promised.

"It had better not," said the Dark Lord. "That girl almost destroyed you, almost took you away from the great destiny your father and I had planned for you. I never could figure out why you fell for that Mudblood, that wretched piece of filth!"

Anger rose inside Draco, threatening to choke him, but by summoning all his self-control, he cleared his mind and forced all he felt into a deep part of himself, a part Voldemort, with all his telepathic abilities, could not reach.

"Do you remember what happened to Wormtail when he helped Harry escape?" the Dark Lord asked, looking at his servant calculatingly.

"Yes." The shrill screams and sobs of a man in pain, visions of Pettigrew's shrunken, bloodied face, that final gasp as he lay bleeding at his comrades' feet had haunted Draco's dreams for many nights.

"You won't betray me, will you, Draco?"

"Never, my lord. I will never betray you."

Voldemort appeared satisfied. "Good." He turned and lowered himself back into his seat. "Your mission--- find Granger and bring her here."

Draco certainly hadn't expected that. "What?" he gasped, disbelievingly.

"You heard me." The Dark Lord's lip curled in an amused, evil smirk. "Kidnap Granger. She is the only one who can bring Harry to us. I give you one week."