It was the dead of the night, I crept from one dark shadow to the next, inaudibly drifting beside the walls, passed closed doors and sophisticated rooms until I reached the second master bedroom. I removed a small bottle from my jeans pocket, eradicated the cork and drank from the pasty green contents.

Immediately after consuming it, the advance transforming potion burnt the back of my throat as I knew that I was changing into a House-elf. My skin became loosely frail and changed into a sickening brownish-green-maroon colour, I felt my eyes grow to an extent that they grossly out-weighed the rest of me. The clothing I had worn before the potions affect had dramatically changed, I would no longer describe them as clothes but merely a twisted, rotting pillow case swathed in dirt and grime. It made my insides turn in disgust, it had come to this, a Malfoy wearing servant clothes, what has the world come to?

After a few minutes checking that I had everything I needed, I knocked on the door and waited to be allowed in. My bag was hidden, my back hunched and my knife positioned firmly in my hand.

"Come in petty servant and state your meaning of disturbing my sleeping hours." A cold voice called, obviously, thanks to Occlumency that my father taught me, the Dark Lord hadn't discovered my disguise.

"Yes?"

"Master Malfoy requested that I should check upon his most important guest by making sure he is in his bed and is securely tucked in." I stuttered. The voice was unknown to me so it was weird hearing these words tumbling out of my mouth as I began stumbling over to the vile, abnormally thin man.

"Very well elf, tuck me in properly." Voldemort commanded stiffly.

Mentally gagging, I continued forth, behind my back I held my prize knife, poised and eager to taste the sweetest liquid of all-blood. Voldemort lay there against midnight black pillows, his disgusting face gleaming with superiority as my father's lord's piercing red eyes observed everything I did. Gradually, I lifted one of my now crinkly hands and tucked him in. Every bit of my brain was forcing me not to attack now, but to wait until he was nearly asleep.

Leisurely, Voldemort dipped into a sinister slumber, I had had it with waiting, pulling my dagger from behind my back I slipped it below his pointy, pale jaw.

"I will not serve anybody, you are not any exception." I spat, Voldemort's eyes snapped open as I drew the lethal line across his throat, softly enough to tickle, hard enough to kill.

I drove the knife deeper into his throat, more blood seeped from the rather large gap between his head and his collar bone, the scent of blood filled the air like invisible smoke, engulfing every living thing in this room. Pity there was only me to see my triumph against the Dark Lord; a crowd would have been more satisfactory.

I felt his body shift in panic but after my blood-red knife had lifted from his throat, his body became limp and cold.

Alas, finally Tom Marvalo Riddle was dead.

And now it was up to me, to dispose of the limp pile of blood and flesh. I held back the strange, strong urge to laugh, my brief description of Voldemort's body almost made him sound remotely human.

"Now for my dear father and mother, no doubt they will be easier to dismiss." I murmured, summoning my private elf to bury the body in the hole it had dug earlier.

I suppose I'll have to kill my house-elf too, can't leave any witnesses…

I left the smell of blood along with the Voldemort's room, stealthy creeping along the vacant and hushed passageways towards the leading room in the Malfoy Manor and towards my parents domain.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I was still a House-Elf, but the potion would soon run out, thus, I hauled out another bottle of the vile, pasty green intoxicating liquid and swallowing every last drop. Again my throat ached like it was on fire, the very blood in my veins sizzled and scorched my internal body as I refused to let even the tiniest whisper of pain escape my lips. I won't give that pleasure to anybody, not even myself.

I gently move stealthily against the wall, wiping my knife clean as I knocked upon my next victim's door, waiting just like I did previously, but this time, the door swung open by another House-Elf.

Oh shit…

Panic shot through my elf-like body, making me nauseas and dizzy, until I remembered my excuse for being there. I took a deep breath, I had done this before, but this time it was more dangerous.

"Master and mistress' tea and whiskey as requested." I stammered, again that strange voice had replaced my normal, dignified and graceful tone.

"I was just leaving Gark alright?" the elf in front of me hissed impatiently. It was no secret that the elves hated my father, however this one seemed to think I resemble the House-Elf I had just recently killed, my House-Elf.

"Hurry up you worthless sack of debris!" my father demanded, his cool demeanor lost when he had smelt the fine essence of his nightly whiskey.

Without a word, the other House-Elf left, leaving me to stumble forward and hand my parents drinks over.

"Shall I stir the mistress' tea?" I queried, forcing myself to remain a like cowardly servant the potion had turned me into.

"Yes, yes, and stir my whiskey like always, be quick or your head will find its place on the House-Elf wall.

I knew my father was referring to the wall which was nearly completely filled with House-Elf heads, all of which were beheaded when they died in service of the Malfoy ancestors. My stomach twisted inside of me as I sharply turned away from them, this was my chance.

Uncorking another bottle of liquid, pouring the blood red contents into my father's glass before hesitating over my mother's tea cup, I was unsure if I should pour my mother's fate into her tea. She had been slightly nicer to me, buying tiny gifts or coming to my Quidditch games to cheer me on secretly, however I didn't want anyone to survive otherwise my plans for Hogwarts would be completely ruined.

"Gark! I demand you to hasten your pace, unless you prefer to have some sense literally knocked into you!" my mother, Narcissa snapped.

No longer unsure of my decision, I tipped more than the required amount into Narcissa's cup, I knew I was doing the right thing, turning around I presented both tea cup and whiskey glass over to my victims and watched them slowly paralyze.

"What did you do?" my father gasped, struggling not to fall down and attempting to reach his wand.

Preparing for this I accio-ed both of my parents' wands over to my outstretched hand, and with a sinister smirk creeping onto my face I glared at them.

"My, my, Lucius, what's wrong? You seemed to be very stiff on this fine evening." I said, mocking my father's usual tone of voice.

"Oh and to answer your question, I simply poured a paralyzing potion into your drink, consequently making you a pushover to anyone, even me." I laughed softly, pushing Lucius and Narcissa down onto the bed emphasizing my explanation.

"Now I know you must be thinking, or at least thought about what I am planning to do with the infamous Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy, but I think I will let my dearest friend show you exactly." I concluded, again removing my prized dagger from its leather case, beneath my pillow case.

I almost heard them begging me to stop, but I knew the time had come, their time was up and they couldn't do a thing about it because they were obviously too paralyzed.

"Say your precious good byes, you have been rotten parents." I whispered, letting the words float from my mouth and slither into the ears of my victims to-be.

I raised the knife in front of my mother, Narcissa Annabelle Malfoy, her eyes wide with terror as I let her draw her final breath.

As if in slow motion my dagger came down onto her swan-like neck, killing her instantly, I had realized just then that I didn't want my mother to feel anymore pain than she had to when dying.

Silly; really.

Narcissa's blood began to percolate out of her neck and slipping down onto her nightgown, changing its usual innocent blue into a violent shade of mauve. Marching forward in the direction of my father's feebly paralyzed body and smile evilly. All his miserable life he had taken what was not his, the lives of mudbloods and muggles, he had destroyed my mother's sanity and nearly my own, and now Lucius must be punished.

I held the knife close to his throat, his breath was abnormally fast and warm against my ghostly white hand, I always thought someone's eyes were the window into their soul, but all that was revealed was fear. For the first time in my life I just saw what my father was really like, a pitiable man who bowed down and kissed the shoes of an even more pitiable being.

"I hope this hurts." I whispered darkly, digging the knife into my so-called father's throat, cutting deeper and deeper into the depraved man's neck as drop by drop, the blood dribbled through the opening.

Pulling away from his flaccid body, I summoned another one of my House Elves and ordered them to be beheaded and placed on two serrated wooden poles and placed in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

That will give those bastards a bloody shock…