A ring of masked wizards stood in the vast plains where a cold wind whistled and blew, causing their robes to flap about. The wizards did not seem to be bothered though; their attention was focused solely on the wizard in the middle.

He didn't look like any wizard at all. His eyes were a livid crimson, glowing red in the darkness. He was skeleton-like, with thin long fingers and a gaunt face. His nose was flat, and if you did not look closely, it seemed that he had only slits for nostrils. In the centre of the circle he stood, donning a hood, and it seemed that authority radiated from his mere being.

Each masked wizard had bent down to kiss the hem of the robes of this particular wizard, and now they stood quietly at the side, waiting.

A loud cackle, emitted from the wizard at the centre, broke the silence of the night like the smashing of glass. The Dark Lord was happy, and subconsciously, the wizards breathed a sigh of relief. Only a particularly young wizard was still tense, afraid.

"Fellow Death Eaters!" He announced it, triumph in his powerful voice, echoing in the empty plains and making it seem louder than it actually was. "Fellow Death Eaters, I'm here to announce a very happy event: Dumbledore, the old fool, has finally died."

There was a round of frantic applause, followed by hushed whispers. Who had done it? Who was the lucky one who was about to step up on the Dark Lord's ranks?

"I'll like to see him say that death isn't the worst thing that could happen!" The Dark Lord laughed, a raspy one at that. "Now, I announce to you the loyal servant who has done it for me: Severus Snape."

Silence.

"My Legilimency, as you all know, is the greatest in this world, yet it was not enough to make you fully believe in his loyalty. Now, his loyalty is proven through the death of Albus Dumbledore, and he will be rewarded greatly."

The whispers started again, only to die down with a sharp "Quiet!" by the Dark Lord.

"Though I'm very pleased with such an announcement, I am displeased by one of my servants."

Here goes, Draco thought. He had never felt so cold before. Calm down, empty your mind, he ordered himself. To let the Dark Lord read his thoughts like a piece of transparent clear glass was courting death. He rubbed his arm, but the gesture did not help his shivering.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Malfoy. Your father was a disappointment, and you are also one."

Draco forced himself to look up, though his face was aflame with shame. Wasn't he the one who led that idiot Snape to Dumbledore? He shuffled his feet, dreading what the Dark Lord was going to do to punish him.

No sooner had he thought this that the Dark Lord whispered, "Crucio."

Draco screamed. It was pure pain, pain beyond belief, pain beyond anything he had experienced. He felt as though his skin was being torn apart, bit by bit… left to be burnt… Please, let this pain be over… He writhed on the ground, twitching, turning, struggling…

The Dark Lord lifted his wand. "Seeing that this is a happy occasion, I won't kill you, as I do with servants who disappoint me. But you were a coward," he spitted the word out, "a coward. To be afraid to use Avada Kedavra! However, taking things into account that you are still young, I shall assign another task to you. And this time," there was silence, and the sentences that followed kept haunting Draco's thoughts, "you will not fail me."

"Bring Harry Potter."

A/N: How was it?