Prologue
The night was silent. There was not a whisper in the trees. A pale, skeletal figure was stooped as though against a fierce wind. The moon cast deadly shadows onto his face. It was a face that was livid with hatred, one that could terrify the bravest soul alive. An insane smile lit his face, as the man crept along the bare earth. Light was streaming from the tip of the wand as he navigated his way across the rocky plain. Tonight was the night when he would show his true powers. Lord Voldemort would no longer stay in hiding. Once again people would fear him, fear the very mention of his name…
The moon shone on the ghastly wizard prison known as Azkaban. It was one of the most feared places by all wizards; guarded by so deadly a force that one could lose their soul. It was to this place that Lord Voldemort had returned. The moon shone down upon it, but it gave it no light. There were no windows and the walls were blacker than the night. Light of any kind was non-existent as though it was absorbed by the evil force contained by the walls of the prison. Shrieks filled the man's ears as he got closer, shrieks of those being tortured endlessly by the Dementors of Azkaban Prison. Hooded and cloaked their features were all but hidden, their hideously twisted faces and bloody hands were hidden in the folds of their robes, but it was not their appearance that made them so repulsive. It was the way that they could chill the warmest night, hide the brightest light, make you forget the happiest memories. They stood watch by the gate, which was once powerful and incredibly sharp but now broken and vine covered. Yet it was not less sinister, gaps in the wall made eerie shapes that resembled mutilated beings, as though it was trying to mimic those who were trapped. The Dementors watched from their invisible eyes, waiting for the one who was coming for them, someone who could set them free from the prison to which the wizarding world had banished them.
Lord Voldemort walked up to the gate, no longer stooping along so as not to be seen, not that it was necessary, for the prison was surrounded by a body of water so large the nearest town was all but invisible, the feeble light the only remnants of the city. The Dementors shifted excitedly, he had finally come!
"So we meet again," came the cold, high whisper from Voldemort's thin lips. "Too many years I have waited for this chance. The time has come for us to retake what we have lost."
The Dementors remained silent; looking down on the figure that stood before them. They were filled with hatred. His scarlet eyes stared at them, his wand pointed down towards the ground. His thin body clothed in black torn and tattered robes. Was this the person who all wizards had once feared? Was he the one who once had giants, snakes, goblins, dragons, and wicked men at his command? Were they to really believe he could save them from their empty lives? As though Voldemort knew what they were thinking; he grinned evilly. The Dementors shifted uncomfortably, for they still had no effect whatsoever. Their rattling breath brought them no moments of happiness because there was nothing before them in this empty shell of a person. It was as though he was dead, filled with no memories of goodness, or love. Lord Voldemort was as good as soulless, unable to feel as normal people could. To him there was no good and evil, it was because of this that he alone could command them. The Dementors had no power against such hate, and such poison. Voldemort could save them, yet at the same time he was their destruction.
"Where are they?" He asked, "Where are my precious followers?"
Then a voice not meant for human ears filled the air. Low and rumbling like thunder it felt like being bitten by frostbite, or pounded by hammers.
"They are inside waiting… We were having a bit of fun." Voldemort raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
"Lead me to them," and with that the Dementors swept up ahead of him into the depths of the menacing prison. The doors swung open before them and the continued walking on the slimy cold floor of the prison. The stench of rotting flesh so overpowering that it was hard to breathe, but Lord Voldermort breathed it all in with a knowing smile. This man was mad. Suddenly the Dementors turned down a corridor, and at once screams pierced the night. They realized the cold features of Lord Voldemort, but he passed them by following the hated Dementors further down the hall. At the very end where the torch light did not show, they stopped and the steady drip, drip of water was the only noise apart from the constricted breathing of the prisoners.
"They are in there, my Lord," the Dementors whispered, motioning towards the door to the left. The Dementors breathed gently into the key slit in the middle of the black door, and slowly, very slowly it creaked open. The Death Eaters were sprawled along the floor. Their bodies covered with ants and spiders, their robes torn, their limbs thin from lack of food and their eyes haunted. They turned towards the door as it was opening.
"My Lord, oh my Lord, you have rescued us once again." The desperate voice of Augustus Rookwood cried out. "We are forever in your debt, my lord," Bellatrix Lestrange looked up into the beloved eyes of her master.
"You were always in my debt, Bella." Voldemort told her furiously. "You fools, you think you would have enough sense to know not to get caught. Explain to me how it is that the lot of you could not stop five untrained students from stealing the prophecy?"
"Actually there were six students" a death eater muttered
"Silence! My point remains the same, once again Harry Potter had stopped me in my tracks and I am left with nothing more than a bunch of worthless death eaters locked up that I have to come and rescue. DO YOU NOT SEE THE PROBLEM?" He roared. The Death Eaters flinched as though they had been struck with knives.
"Really my lord, it was not our fault that stupid bunch of muggle-loving fools run by Dumbledore." Once again the Death Eater was cut of before he had a chance to finish talking.
"You will pay for talking back, Crabbe," they saw Voldermort reach for his wand "Crucio," The shouts and cries of Crabbe filled the air.
"Would anyone else like to receive the same treatment?" Voldemort paused for a second. "I thought not. Now get up, we have no time to waste!" He turned towards the Dementors, "Give them their wands." Regretfully they took the wands out of their pockets and handed them over, and in doing so their bloody hands were revealed. With a look of loathing Lucius Malfoy stepped over and took the wands shuddering as he felt their cold wrinkled flesh brush his.
"I will deal with all of you later," he called to the Dementors, and with that he left the Death Eaters following as though Lord Voldemort was the mother hen, and they the chicks. Slowly they exited the prison, the moans of the jealous prisoners filling the air. Voldemort stopped as though there was an invisible wall, and slowly turned on his heel towards the chained prisoners. They scrambled back in fear. He smiled again, a light shining from his eyes that was not often there.
"Would you like to join me? You could leave this place behind forever. I alone have the power to make the Dementors release you." They slowly turned towards Voldemort, disgust on some of their faces, but hope on others.
"Swear now to serve me forever and I will give the word for you to be let go. And make no mistake; I will know if you betray us. If you join me now, it will be for life. Is that understood?" Slowly the prisoners nodded and a great roaring cheer for Voldemort was sounded throughout the prison, and such a cry of hope had never been heard before in those walls and the Dementors shook visibly as if it was too much for them.
"Let's go." Grinning, and cackling to himself, he lead the way out the prison with double the amount of people he had hoped for. Things were going well, he thought to himself, very well.
They had gathered on that fateful night in the one place that had always been theirs; the graveyard where Voldemort's father had been buried. The broken head stones were the evidence of the battle that had taken place in this very spot between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. It was in this graveyard in the middle of a muggle town that Lord Voldemort had resurfaced to take control once again. Wormtail's blood still left a stain on the ground, and shards of broken stones still littered the floor. Not much had changed.
"Not even two years, my friends, and still we find ourselves in the same spot with no more than we had then. But, never mind." He looked around at the crowd of people that had surrounded him before he had started talking. The prisoners looked somewhat frightened, and exhausted; it had taken all their energy just to get her. Their skinny bodies did not have the sustenance to go on any longer.
"Sleep now, for when you are under Lord Voldemort's service you shall be taken care of. Death Eaters we have work to do." Voldemort's eyes glittered dangerously in the night that was slowly shifting towards the pale pink of the dawn.
"What my lord? Anything my lord." This time the voice of Walden Macnair penetrated the dark. The other Death Eaters nodded their agreement.
"We need more supporters. Tell me, all of you. I know you have sons and daughters. Why have they not joined us, why have they not joined the ranks of the legendary Death Eaters? Don't tell me you have had second thoughts about where your loyalties lie, and you do not wish them to have the same fate"
"O-of course n-not, it is just they are so young, and they have sch-school." Avery trailed off weakly, grimacing at the furious look upon his master's face. He kicked Avery swiftly in the stomach, and spat upon him leaving a mark that looked interestingly like a burn.
"They have school. I can not believe what I am hearing. I am the greatest sorcerer in the world, and you stand in front of me saying that your children have school. Do you not remember the vows you took, the goals we had. We are striving to perfect the world, for your children. Once we have removed all the worthless mud-bloods, and muggle loving fools you shall have your rewards. What is it you want? You want a good education for your children, you want your children to be happy and grow up among those who will not taint them. How can we achieve this if we do not have enough supporters to follow us, and eliminate those who stand in our path? Help me now, and when once again no one dares to oppose me you will be rewarded beyond your greatest dreams; your children's children will be rewarded beyond their greatest dreams. Tomorrow we will meet again here, and if there are no new faces there will be trouble." Slowly the Death Eaters disappeared, the prisoners still lying on the ground. Some of them looked as though they were ready to march into battle at this second. This man was surely a good man, only concerned for the future of the wizarding world. The ministry had been wrong to oppose them. If they joined with them, then surely they could have the same promise of happiness. Grins spread across their faces; they had gone from prisoners to free men in all of one night.
That night around midnight, the Death Eaters one by one, apparated into the chilly graveyard waiting to see if their master's wishes had been obeyed. Voldemort gradually appeared as though he was recovering from being invisible. The Ring of Death Eaters circled Voldemort. The new faces of Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Jenny Rookwood, Theodore Nott, and a few others stared nervously at the surrounding Death Eaters. The older Death Eaters thrust themselves forward to the hem of Voldemort's robes, kissing the hem repeatedly as was custom. Suddenly merry voices filled the graveyard.
"Get them," Voldemort whispered malevolently. Antonin Dolohov scurried forwards and out of sight. "I see you have done well. Welcome my new Death Eaters to the family of Lord Voldemort. May your services never waver, nor your loyalty. The prisoners beside you have graciously agreed to fight for our cause. I will need each and every one of you before we can truly regain power, but first we must deal with that stupid Harry Potter." Here Voldemort paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes glowing with detest. "We must kill him." He went on to describe his plans to lure Harry out of his house.
At that moment Antonin Dolohov returned towing three muggles. There was a woman, who looked to be in her late thirties with brown hair that was graying slightly at the roots, a man who was uncommonly tall but frail looking with a pale complexion, and pale hair. It was their daughter that was most remarkable. She had shining blonde hair, and blue eyes that were unafraid and looking at them with interest. They were bound in ropes and could not walk very well, for they kept tripping only to have Dolohov haul them back up cruelly.
"Ahhh, perfect," Voldemort smiled, showing his rotting teeth, "Hmm, who shall I pick? Ahh, Draco. I have heard remarkable things about you, Draco. It is time for you to show your strength. All of you have to prove your loyalty to me at some point, but for now let's have a bit of fun. See what damage you can do, Draco."
"I beg of you, please let us go. We have done nothing. PLEASE!" The woman screamed in fear
Draco crept forward a determined look upon his coldly handsome face. His blue eyes were narrowed in dislike, maybe repulsion. He raised his wand and pointed it at the woman.
"Avada Kedavra," Green light poured from his wand to hit his target. She screeched, and was thrown of her feet, where she wept huddled on the floor. The crowd watching laughed out loud. The man looked horrified.
"What kind of witchcraft is this? Please, a-at l-least let my daughter go. I beg of you." He knelt by his wife, stroking the hair off her forehead trying to be strong. They ignored him
"You have to mean it Draco," Voldemort called softly. Again Draco raised his wand this time aiming for the man that was still kneeling.
"Avada Kedavra," Once again green light shot from the wand, and the man started to bleed, blood pouring from his mouth and his nostrils. The Death Eaters laughed, and kicked the man and the woman. Draco began to look sick.
"Almost Draco, almost." It was his father speaking, sounding proud that his son had the chance to impress his master. Draco began to sweat, his eyes dead staring at the man who was still pouring blood. Once again he raised his wand. This time it hit the girl. She screamed piercingly, and then lay still. She was dead. Seeing this, Draco dropped his wand and stared horrified at the scene before him, grateful that his expression was hidden from the Death Eaters. Dimly he heard the mother and father screaming.
"Oh my god, she's dead!" The mother burst out sobbing. The Death Eater's laughter echoed in his ears.
"Excellent, Draco, excellent!" Voldemort was clearly pleased. Draco looked at his face, and his expression darkened.
"I j-jut killed someone, and you're congratulating me?" He spat the word out, now in tears. Voldemort looked shocked. Draco continued, "I can't do this, you can kill me or whatever, but I won't keep doing this. I nearly agreed with you, I nearly agreed with you." He kept repeating this as he stood watching the mother and the father being tortured by the surrounding Death Eaters. With that, he spun around and ran out of the graveyard into the night, but before he could get more than a few meters away…
"Crucio." His body writhed on the floor, his eyes rolling madly into his head. His skin was on fire, punctured by the attack of the knives that were tearing him apart. Then it was over, and he lay still on the floor, his eyes burning in pain. From far away he heard his father.
"Don't kill him. Please! You don't understand. He's my only son. I am so sorry he let you down, but I will make him see the error of his ways, I promi…" He was cut off as a jet of green light flew from his master towards him. It hit him directly in the chest, and he stared disbelievingly as his body fell to the ground and lay still forever. Draco's head pounded with blood. He couldn't think. Just get out of here, escape. He thought madly to himself. Getting to his feet, he ran out of the graveyard his face streaming with tears.
Voldemort just laughed cruelly with his cold, high voice, and it was that sound that haunted Draco Malfoy forever.