Hello readers, I don't often make a habit of putting author's notes on my chapters, only I wanted to apologise for the delay in getting this chapter published.

I'm back on track now and the next few chapters should come out more regularly. Thank you for continuing to read this story of mine,

D

VII. THIS IS SACRIFICE

"This is where your loyalty begins to reward you!" The Dark Lord announces, he was standing proudly on the remains of the fountain in the atrium of the ministry of Magic, the minister's severed head raised in triumph to a chorous of cheers and laughter from the death eaters that flooded the room. The ministry was planning to go underground, the first week of summer, the ministry was also laced almost entirely with death eaters, Avery went to Voldemort then and Draco overheard his report.

"The order has gone underground, my Lord, they've attacked three of our safe houses already."

Voldemort stunned Avery and the man went flying into the crowd. "Nomatter," he said, "Soon the Order will be crushed, as is it the magical world is ours for the taking!"

There would be celebrations, they would dance and drink over the bodies of their dead enemies, most of the men would go on their own little 'raids' to find muggles to torture and kill, the next morning would dawn colder and more bleak than the last. Draco took no fun or pleasure out of it, he was here because he had to be, careful to keep his mind shielded from everyone and always listening out for information.

Voldemort didn't have a plan beyond kill and torture, somewhere over the years the Dark Lord lost his mind and his purpose. Now he meant to rule a world with no one left in it.

Draco stayed as long as he had to at the battelfeild that was the fallen ministry, as soon as they began pulling more and more muggles in off of the street he left, back to Malfoy Manor.

The once grand house was unrecognisable, his mother was chained by an ankle in the foyer, she drifted around the large space like a ghost, the Dark Lord's followers not game to lay a hand nor spell on the accomplished witch – she'd killed people who'd dared to before.

Screams filled the dark, damp halls, bloodstains and cobwebs and dead bodies were a common sight. Their precious, priceless family heirlooms had long ago been ruined or stolen, this was the head working base of The Dark Lord, disgraced and dirty.

Draco stepped from the floo with a practiced ease and walked straight to his mother. She greeted him like she always did, with a hand on each cheek and a kiss to the forehead.

He said nothing, and neither did she, the house was empty, or near enough. Whimpers filled the halls of people left to die. Draco used the chance to snoop through his father's old study. Draco wasn't useful enough anymore to be privy to any meetings, not yet, maybe, but for now he could give the order a little warning, whatever he could find would help.

Draco unlocked the heavy study door with all the practiced ease of his childhood, and was rewarded with the study in all its glory.

It was perhaps the only room in the manor who's grandeur had been maintained. There were priceless spell books covering the walls and dark artifacts now shamelessly on display. a large fire was burning down and light flooded into the room from the full moon through two enormous rectangular windows. The large desk was covered in maps and parchment, Draco began making copies at once, of everything he could reach, of everything that looked like a plan or plot. Once he had spent as much time in there as he would risk he ran from the room, locking the door behind him and heading straight back to the floo. In another moment he stepped into 12 Grimmauld palce, where he left the documents on the table and left again, back to the manor, back to his bedroom which he, by some miracle had been allowed to keep to himself.

Draco Malfoy was tired of this war, and he resolved to climb the ranks of death eaters, to get the information the order would need to win it, finally.

Then his arm burned, the mark glowed red, Draco donned his robe and headed back downstairs with his mask in hand, perhaps tonight would give him a chance to do that.

They were at a barraks for new recruits, Voldemort was behind the frontlines, the Order had infiltrated and the Death Eaters were pushed back to the large training hall. Voldemort was barking orders, to hold the ground, the new recruits were terrified.

"Malfoy!" Voldemort said to him, Draco bowed to his lord, removing the skull mask.

"You're to lead this lot in taking back some ground. The Order have people trapped in buildings." Draco nodded, readying his wand and heading to the group of Death Eaters.

"Now is not the time to piss yourself," Draco said to them, easily falling into his snarky drawl. There was a bang at the door behind him and Order members spilled into the room. "Defend yourselves, push them back, stay together!"

It was a difficult thing, to try to prevent as much death as he could. Especially since these men and women were still unmarked, they had joined Voldemort's side, for whatever reason but they could still change their minds. More of the death eaters were stunned than order members fell, but they saw it was Draco and retreated from the hall. He was pulled aside by Alastor Moody.

"The men and women here are unmarked, take as many as you can I think most of them will renounce the Death Eaters or join the Order." Draco told him quickly, "And my taking back that building would help me immensely."

Moody nodded, giving his thanks with a clap on Draco's shoulder. Draco slipped back into battle crossing the dirt road into the barracks. The order retreated easily, the group of men he was leading thought themselves very skilled, never having faced the order in true force, but the building was taken and about half the prisoners 'rescued' and Draco Malfoy was the only Death Eater who had managed that.

Voldemort inclined his head, back in the study of Malfoy Manor. Their losses were great, and the training camp was compromised but Draco had won a small victory.

"You may have failed to kill Albus Dumbeldore for me little Malfoy but you're proving to be invaluable yet. Now, would you like another task? Are you up to it, or are you still just daddy's spoilt little boy?"

Draco kneeled. "You would honour me, my lord." He replied careful to appear respectful, careful to shield his thoughts, and Voldemort smiled.

"Excellent. Our spy in the order has been able to give us the location of the homes of many of the most prominent order members, including The Weasley's and Lovegoods, Augusta Longbottom and Minerva McGonagall, seeing as you failed to kill Albus you may take twelve men and attack the McGonagall's family home; windswept."

Draco bowed once more. But Voldemort continued. "And Mr. Malfoy, the attacks will all happen tomorrow night."

Draco went straight to his room, he had no way to let the order know because there was no particular reason for him to leave right now, he went to the small desk in his bedroom and pulled out parchment and a quill.

Crabbe,

I know I'll see you again tomorrow but I just couldn't wait to tell you about the ridiculous gang of Muggle-loving idiots I saw today, they were walking in muggle London with homewares, of all things, paint and the like, to decorate their houses, the most hideous colours. The weasleys, Longbottom, Loony Lovegood and McGonagall of all people, I had no idea blood traitors couldn't function unless they were walking around as a pack. Father and I had a good laugh.

Anyway, see you at school;

Malfoy.

Draco dated the top corner to be a couple years ago and threw the parchment in his fireplace with a handful of floo powder, saying "The headmistresses office, Hogwarts."

It wasn't the most reliable way to send messages but it was all he had, any owl seen leaving or coming to the manor was killed by the werewolf pack they left living in the gardens. Filthy creatures.

He knew nothing of the house windswept, not its location or layout, so making plans to attack the joint was difficult. The only concrete and solid order he gave was he would be the one to kill Minerva McGonagall.

And so the night of the attack on the homes of the order members came around, and one by one the groups of Death eaters apparated from the manor grounds. Draco grabbed the arm of one of the men under his command and in the next instant he was standing on a cliff overlooking the Scottish highlands. The wind was tremendous, and buffeted the men every witch way, the house had a single light on and Draco headed for it, telling the others to be quiet.

"Pa! Dad, they're here!" Draco heard a voice ring out, there was a bang, and the light in the house went out.

Draco quickened his pace and the small group of death eaters ran towards the house, the front windows were blasted in and the spell fire began.

"Search the house!" Draco called, "Remember, capture don't kill!" He yelled again.

There was another bang, and from downstairs Order members came.

"Back to the lawns!" Draco called. The Death Eaters didn't hesitate and the battle continued, they were outnumbered and Draco smiled like a maniac, his note had gotten through. Still the order were crushing his little group of death eaters, he was fighting with a grinning Alastor Moody, who was trying to hit him with tickling charms. He saw Minerva fighting three Death Eaters at once, nodded his head towards her and took a tickling charm, throwing himself on the ground. Alastor got the hint and was there to help her in a second.

There was a shout, and Draco looked up to see one of the order members fall down. "PA!" A boy shouted, his Scottish accent thick, "Duncan, not now, we can see to him when it's safe!" Minerva's harsh voice rang out.

Then he watched Remus Lupin take a nasty cutting hex and it seemed as though the death eaters had the upper hand, until Harriet Potter apparated to the top of the cliff.

She joined the battle in a blur and in no time had cut down two of the Death Eaters with a swordstaff, Draco stood, yelled a retreat, and in another second she cut down three more.

"BACK TO THE MANOR!" He screamed again, this time pops of appiration could be heard, until he was the last Death Eater left. He took of his mask the order members visibly relaxing.

"Morons forgot I can't apparate yet." He grumbled. "Was anyone hurt?" He asked next. "You got my message?"

Moody nodded, "Aye, good thing too, we were keeping orphans at Windswept. As for injuries, Malcome's not in good shape, and Remus was already taken to Mungos by Tonks." Draco nodded.

McGonagall came up then. "Mr. Malfoy, thankyou for the warning." She said, "come in, I'll fix tea."

"Thankyou," He said, "I'll just be a moment."

They both looked at Harry, who was lining up the corpses of the dead Death Eaters. Draco went to her, grabbing Mulciber's body under the arms and dragging him into line.

"Harry-" He began, but she fixed him with such a heated glare he stopped.

"Take them back with you," She said, "When you go; their families should know they're dead." He nodded, he should start making up a story as to how he got back.

McGonagall came out to meet them, with a wave of her wand each of the dead men turned into various little things, a tea cosy, a rock, a little statue of a turtle, a fork and a coaster. She put them in a small bag and handed them to him.

"Finite incantartum will reverse it." She told him and he nodded.

"How is Malcome?" Harriet asked.

"Dead," Minerva replied, a very sad look on her face, "Duncan is with him now, we will bury him tonight." Harriet nodded. Draco said nothing.

"I'm sorry Professor," Harry said eventually.

They flowed the elderly woman inside. The insides of the home were beautiful if a bit gryffindor for his taste, the ceilings were high and the windows large and covered in thick red drapes. Thick soft carpet covered the floors. McGonagall led them into her kitchen, where a pot of tea was waiting.

McGonagall went to a boy, a man really, about 19 years old and gave him a half hug.

"Mr. Malfoy, this is Duncan McGonagall, my nephew." She said, "Duncan, Draco Malfoy, he is the Order's spy."

Duncan nodded to Draco, "I've heard good things," He said, "How did the other houses fare?" He asked the room then, "Have we heard anything."

"The Lovegood's are fine," Harry said, "Xenophilius set some kind of trap up for the Death Eaters, caught them all. The Longbottom's are also fine, though there were a lot of Order members injured and the Weasley's are… Ginny and Dean were captured, Molly and Fred are injured, but they will be fine. Bill was injured badly. Greyback, again."

Draco went pale. "They sent the werewolves to the Weasley's then?" he asked, "There are about 36 werewolves living in the grounds of Malfoy Manor now. They're vicious. I should have warned you they might send them…"

"Don't apologise, Mr. Malfoy," Minerva said, albit tiredly, "Do you have to leave now?" She asked, he nodded. "I was the leader of the group, I have to report back." Minerva offered her arm to him, and with a crack the pair disappeared.

They reappeared in Hogsmede, and Minerva told him Windswept was within walking distance to the little villiage, and that he could catch a train back to London or floo from the post office. The sun was beginning to rise as they stood in a small side street and spoke. Draco did offer her condolences for the death of her brother, Malcome McGonagall, and then they parted ways, a heavy feeling of guilt sitting in his stomach.

He went straight from hogsmede to the Manor by floo, and was greeted by the rather schocked face of his Aunt.

"Drakey Wakey!" She cooed at him, he cringed. "You're alive!"

He handed her the bag of bodies, "Finite will turn them back," He said, "And of course I'm alive, unlike my entire group I am not a moron."

Slow clapping greeted him, Voldemort was standing in the entrance of their little reception room, the Portrait of Abraxas Malfoy watching the scene with intrest, and a sneer.

Draco dropped to one knee.

"My Lord, forgive my late return. I have news from windswept."

Voldemort indicated that Draco should stand, and Draco did. "What news then, Little Malfoy?"

"Malcome McGonagall is dead," Draco reported, trying his best to sound pleased, "And the werewolf, Lupin is badly injured. We had the upper hand until Potter showed up and began killing my men."

Voldemort hissed in displeasure.

"She has become very competent at killing," He observed, Draco nodded.

"I believe McGonagall has been training her to be." Draco said and Voldemort nodded.

"Yes, Weasley told me she's being kept at the school." Voldemort said and Draco frowned.

"Weasley?" He asked, shocked, "Can he be trusted, the whole family are filthy blood traitors?"

Voldemort petted his shoulder and indulgent smile on his deformed face.

"Just because they once were, doesn't mean there is no hope for them," he mock scolded, as though Draco was a student. Draco nodded then and Voldemort dismissed him, telling Bellatrix to feed the bodies of the dead Death Eaters to the werewolves. The dismissal had Draco feeling sick.