A/N: Sorry about the length between updates! It's been crazy and work and when I work 12 hour days it kills both my time and motivation to write. Next one will be up quicker, I promise. Look in the reviews for a section with name suggestions and tell me which one you like! WARNING: Multiple Character Deaths this chapter!

Chapter 35- To End With Purpose

Torian Lestrange strode with brisk, purposeful strides through the wards guarding the Dark Lord's hideout. He had delivered the Magic-Poison to Voldemort little more than a week previous and he suspected that something had finally begun to happen. He braced himself for what was likely to be a very unpleasant meeting.

Torian had studied the stages of the poison so that he would be able to gauge about how much had dispersed into Voldemort's body. If it had progressed far enough, he would have to make a difficult but necessary decision. It was a good thing he knew Occlumency well enough to mostly block out his former Head of House. Severus Snape would have never let him come tonight if he knew what Torian had planned.

He had known for a long time that the most likely ending for him was death. One did not deceive the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale, at least unless your name was Severus Snape. Certainly he hadn't believed he could get away with poisoning the Dark Lord. All he hoped for was one last chance to avenge the death of his grandfather Taryen. Briefly he let his fingers brush along the edge of the dagger hidden under his cloak. If he saw his father Rodolphus, he would bury that blade to the hilt in his chest.

His slender hands tightened into fists underneath the long sleeves. He could feel the edge of the Lord ring on his hand and smiled. His true father was the one who had given him that ring. In heart and mind he was the son of Lord Taryen Lestrange, merely his grandson in blood. He was Lord as he had been Heir since the age of six. At age six his grandfather had called him into his study and placed the Heir ring on his small hand. Smiling at his beloved grandson Taryen had said softly, "You are my son, no matter your blood. There are no generations between us, not in my eyes. Wear this ring better than your father and hold true to our family's proud heritage. You will always make me proud, my Heir."

At his grandfather's funeral Lord Snape and Malfoy both had reassured him of this pride. He was probably the last person to see Lucien Snape alive and the proud old Lord had merely murmured, "You are the last of a proud line of wizards, Torian Rodolphus Lestrange. Uphold the name of your grandfather rather than that of your sire and you will do well in life."

Torian had made it his goal to do so in his life. He would gladly uphold the pride, dignity and courage of the hereai, right up to and including in his death. Despite the fact that he was most likely looking at his own death tonight, he felt very calm. It helped that he would bring about the death of the Dark Lord. After tonight, he thought with satisfaction, wizards will be hard pressed to look at the name Lestrange and think of my parents. They will remember me and my grandfather instead.

He entered the spacious and sparsely lit chamber where Voldemort waited and bowed on both knees, gazing at the tiled floor. Torian had been surprised but gladdened to see Rodolphus standing to the Dark Lord's right. His target was present, now all he needed was the opportunity.

"Look at me, traitor," the Dark Lord rasped.

Torian lifted his gaze and stared in triumph at Voldemort. The pale face was paler than usual, the long, spidery hands twitching in convulsions. The staring crimson eyes had darkened to scarlet in fury and the usually bloodless lips were stained red. Voldemort was close to death, very close. As Severus had suspected, the potion's effects had been increased severely by Voldemort's refusal to use anything other than the darkest of spells. By his readings, one or two more Unforgivables would finish the job.

"What did you give me, foolish boy!"

Torian braced himself and replied cheekily, "A potion, my Lord."

"Crucio!"

The expected response had him on the floor in spasms of agony, but Torian bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted his own coppery-flavoured blood, refusing to give in and scream. He knew this would anger the Dark Lord and make him keep up the spell for a few minutes, which would only hurry along the poison. Finally the spell was cancelled and he rolled to his side, spitting out blood as he moved back to his knees.

"My Lord," Rodolphus spoke up, eyeing Torian coldly. "It seems that our little traitor is being reluctant to speak. He is resistant to spells, perhaps a bit of physical encouragement would work."

Torian tensed on the floor and waited for Voldemort's reply. He was careful to not appear too eager even as he slid the dagger free of his cloak. He was praying to Merlin with every fibre of his being that the Dark Lord would agree. He did not fear his father, this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Voldemort handed it to him on a golden platter.

"Indeed. See if you can persuade your son to give the information I seek." Voldemort waved him forward with a hand that shook even worse than before.

Rodolphus approached slowly, powerful frame moving with the ease of a hunting cat. When he reached Torian he lashed out with one steel-toed boot. Torian heard the crack when it connected and withheld a grunt of pain. He needed the man closer than this…

Rodolphus circled him, lashing out with one of his boots every once in a while. The brutal older Death Eater knew every sensitive spot to hit and it cared not to him that this form on the floor was his own flesh and blood. In the course of his initial service to Voldemort and Azkaban, Rodolphus had ended up just as insane as his wife in a way. The Death Eaters had been wary of Bellatrix, but Rodolphus' cold rage was feared.

Finally Rodolphus reached down and tangled his fingers in Torian's sweaty and slightly bloody hair. He tightened his grip to where it was beyond painful and proceeded to haul him off the ground only using the grip in his hair near the base of his neck. Torian was unable to prevent a slight gasp of pain, but his target came closer and closer. He closed his eyes and forced his body to remain limp, changing the grip on the dagger still concealed in his sleeve.

When his target was in place he rasped out, "By the way, my Lord. The Potions Master you gave that substantial sum to? It was none other than Severus Snape, who sends his greetings and farewell."

Quick as a flash amidst the Dark Lord's roar of rage he exposed the dagger and slammed it deep into the base of his father's throat. The shocked gurgle from the dying Lestrange and a flash of brilliant green were the last things he saw and heard. Even as his body flew backwards and down to crumple on the floor there was a grim smile on his lips.

Voldemort collapsed in seizures, shrieking in agony. It was as if his own body were under the Cruciatus he favoured so. It took an agonizing half-hour for him to die. The man who believed himself unstoppable had been brought down by a 16-year-old boy and the Potions Master he had treated with nothing more than contempt. Thus were avenged the hereai by the descendants of two of the old Lords.

The death of Lord Voldemort was just the first of the shockwaves about to hit the wizarding world however. In the end, it would be one of the smallest as Voldemort went down as one of the smaller, if more brutal, bumps in the road known as history.

A/N: *Eeep!* Don't kill me! I had no idea Torian would end up so popular, this was always his end in my planning. So what do you think? It's short but it seemed to end right where it wanted to. About 3 or 4 chapters left. Read and review!