Death Eater and the Light

Chapter 1

(Realization)

The two women with the long black hair hang from the noose that the village people had placed around their creamy and very slender necks. Their faces remained clouded over even though their eyes remained clear, as if it was ok to see their eyes but not their faces. The townspeople's faces were also blurred even their eyes were blurred. It was an odd scene, and had it not been a dream it would have been added to the list of things that should be discussed during a therapy lesson.

The sky above was gray, it seemed to mirror the moods of the townspeople, or at least it might have if the faces of anybody in this odd scene could be seen. It looked like it would rain, or a very nasty storm was about to take its wrath out on the townspeople. The idea of the weather attacking the townspeople was funny. But one of such an esteemed background would not laugh at such a juvenile occurrence.

Soon the two women with the long black hair went limp, signifying that they were now dead, though their eyes seemed still alert still full of life. Maybe they were not just two women but also something more. The dull sense of magic wavered from them; it diminished as their death took a toll. So they had been witches? Now that seemed weird. Hadn't the earlier witches disguised themselves so that the townspeople wouldn't bother them? Hadn't they taken great lengths to keep their magical powers concealed? So why were these two witches being killed? Or was it more to the story than the dream or the scene let on?

It didn't matter how long the idea of this dream and all its mysteries played around in his mind. For he had little time to think about it as the sky darkened to black, and the people began to fade away to nothingness.

****

A warm wave flowed through the cold room, temporarily warming the cold skin that hid under the cold silk sheets. A shaky breath lifted the chest slowly, showing barely any signs of life what so ever. It took some moments to focus on the room that lay before him. Walls covered in the darkest of grays, each covered in some picture of an ancestor or a proud Death Eater. On the farthest wall stood the mantle and the fireplace, which blazed brightly yet oddly enough, left the room dim and eerie.

Voldemort stepped from his bed, the sheets trailing along his naked body. He loved to sleep in the nude; his newly formed body was a wonder unto itself. Powerful and strong, beautiful, graceful, and most important, it could resist the touch of Harry Potter his arch nemesis. Harry Potter, the eternal throne in his side.

Walking over to the fireplace he stood in front of it, allowing the warm feeling to rush over him and invade his senses.

'Ahh how the warmth always made me feel young. I should find a spell that will allow fire to restore my health if I am ever wounded. I shall get Wormtail to find one for me.'

Voldemort smirked at the fire; his black hair fell over his shoulders in cascades. His muscles gleamed from a thin layer of sweat that had plagued him as he dreamt of the two women. Once more his mind twisted around that mystery. Here he has been having that dream for some two weeks now, living and reliving the death of two witches as if they were calling out to him.

But how could they be calling to him? He doesn't even know what they look like. Weren't their faces always covered? Sometimes their eyes were in focus as the dreamed played over and over. Sometimes simple glimpse of the people in the crowd would arise, only to be sucked back into the abyss of blurred colors and shapes. It bothered him to no end that he couldn't understand the dreams. It made him very mad that he couldn't understand why those women were dying or why he couldn't see anyone's faces.

Sighing with what will be known as the closet Voldemort will ever get to defeat, he walked back over to his bed, where he picked up the robe that he had thrown on the ground before retiring to sleep. It lay crumpled at the foot of his bed, a little damp from the little exercise that he had performed with his Death Eaters tonight. A small smirk appeared on his face, as a tender knock came to his door.

"Come in Wormtail!" Voldemort whispered in a voice teetering on the edge of insanity.

Wormtail, though not Voldemort's most trusted, was the only servant he allowed to serve him in his private rooms. Seeming though it was Wormtail that has brought him back to his body, that has helped him in his quest to regain his body, he did trust him a little. True Wormtail was nothing more than a balding pathetic man, but he was his most faithful servant.

Speaking of which, the balding man walked in, his black robes and hood fasted tightly to his body, showing the many rolls of fat that had adorned his body in the last twelve years. His beady eyes focused on the form that was his master and Lord before bowing down on his knees and crawling over to kiss his feet. A small smile formed on the thin lips before disappearing again under that expressionless face.

Laughing slightly he kicked Wormtail in the stomach and laughed louder as the man fell into a fetal position before crawling into a corner. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but for the sake to save face, he simply whimpered a bit before rising on his feet and approaching the chair that his Lord and master always sat in whenever he wanted to know of the other Death Eaters.

"My Lord! The Inner circle sends word that two Muggle families have been killed. Ten in all, M'Lord." His voice seemed a bit strained.

'Maybe I had kicked him a bit too hard, or maybe Wormtail is as weak as I had known.'

"Yes and what of my second rank? And my potentials, what have they to give to me? Is there word from the Giants about accepting our alliance instead of Dumbledore's?" A sneer formed on that cruel face. The red pupils watched Wormtail wiggle in place.

" The potentials have decided to become spies for the cause, after Malfoy gave them an ultimatum of death or to follow you my Lord. The Giants say that they have tired of our war and wish not to be involved and do the Vampires, though the Dementors don't really care. The Veelas and Werewolves have accepted our alliance."

He squirmed again under those cold red eyes, the same eyes that had haunted him since he gave away the secret to James and Lily. A secret that had cost the lives of the two people he loved the most. The shame of giving up his friends, which will haunt him for the rest of his life; the blood of his friends forever staining his hands.

"What of our little children? Do they know the part that they will play?" Voldemort leaned ever closer to his prey, smirking and sneering in his direction.

"I have talked to their parents and they seem to be still in the dark. They believe that they will receive the Dark Mark. Draco most of all seems to believe that he and he alone will be welcomed into the Inner circle. Lucius has explained to him that he must earn that right, like Merrick did." A scared look crossed over Wormtail's face as he realized his mistake.

'Her name stills plays a part in my plans, as if she is still with us.'

"Are you done or is there more?" The look of indifference hid the true impact of the forbidden name, as he sneered at Wormtail.

"Y-Yes M'Lord. The Death Eaters await downstairs to show you the clever displays they had made with the Muggle children's blood. They wish to show you how they transfigured it to play the scene of their death repeatedly."

"Leave me! I shall join you soon! But before you leave my dear Wormtail."

"Yes?"

"CRUCIO!"

The screams were fresh and agonizing. Yes he hadn't heard these screams for sometimes and it felt good to hear them again. Oh, he was in a mood to do it to a couple of his followers tonight. They would all suffer for the forbidden name. They would all play!

Releasing Wormtail, he kicked his frail body, which twisted and convulsed rapidly, towards the door. Making sure to slam it in his face and walking away. This feeling had never hit him so hard before, when his stupid followers had kept reminding him of her. He hadn't even felt it this badly when he regained his body and named all the missing Death Eaters, he remembered later on. He remembered the spaces in the Inner circle. The places where his most trusted had stood, the people that had showed their faithfulness in a number of ways. His Generals of Darkness. But he had missed counted, maybe by accident or maybe on purpose. Whatever way, he had missed a person. Not just any person, but a one of a kind. The only person he ever thought was worthy of being by his side. A person, he knew for sure, was faithful and never doubted for a second that she would serve him in any ways possible.

Could that have been why he was so shocked of her not being there? Why when he rose to his new body, she had not been there to greet him as he had dreamed she would? He had to learn from his most trusted follower, Lucius Malfoy, of her death. The agony she had suffered by the hands of the Aurors. It angered him far more than even the escape of Harry Potter did.

Voldemort sneered into the flames of the fire, his red eyes flashed instantly before turning back into the fierce red that they always were. His cold skin looked even colder before he stood from his bed and walked to the door. Turning slightly he looked towards the bed.

'We shall be together again my dear Merrick.'

***

As the night runs on its long course, others are plagued by the dreams of the twins. A feeling of strange new beginnings and terrifying new truths affect the mind of one of the world's greatest wizards. The Boy-Who-Lived or also known as Harry Potter.

Harry had sense from the beginning that something about this year wasn't right. From the moment he woke up from a long night of tossing and turning, he just knew everything would turn out wrong. That feeling of some impending doom was not new to him. In fact he had been feeling this way since he got on the train for his fifth year. It just felt like something bigger was coming; far bigger than he had ever thought was to come. A feeling of something grander than the yearly attempts to end his life, more serious than the yearly flights to save those he loved and cared for. It felt like this was one year when his true power would come to the surfaced. This year, even though it started like all years, seemed different.

When he got on the train, he felt like something was wrong, something he couldn't stop, or faced with it, may not want to stop. But what could it be? He looked to Hermonie and Ron... maybe it had to do with them. No they had seemed just like they always seemed, scared for his safety, yet the same as always. Maybe something a little closer to his family then? He had talked to Sirius, though the man was still on the run, he too seemed like the same old Sirius. Then what was it?

It occurred to him that maybe it was just him, maybe he just felt different because he knew that the final confrontation between him and Voldemort would be coming soon. But that same feeling should be coming from everyone that attended Hogwarts. Everyone should be feeling that feeling of upcoming danger. Packed full of upcoming rivalries, choosing of sides, killing fellow students, and possibly housemates. Shit everyone should be feeling that. But it wasn't that at all.

As he sat watching the sleeping forms of his friends he realized that one day, they too might disappear. Their names forgotten on the wind of war, their blood spilled on the battlefield all for the sake of a war that they had never started. That alone shocked Harry, that in a couple of months, maybe a couple of years, some of the people he had grown to love would perish right before his eyes. And in some cases he may be able to help, but in others he may have to watch his friends die. Why was he put in his position? Why was he the one that had to save this miserable world from being destroyed, while he had to watch his friends be sacrificed for the greater cause?

'Why do I have to sacrifice so much? I'm just a kid!'

But fate had a bigger plan for him, this he knew from the first time he fought Voldemort, hell the first time he got his wand. He was destined to fight and hopefully defeat Voldemort. But what if he couldn't? What if he failed? What then? Could the Wizarding world forgive him? Will there be another person to fight Voldemort, or is he truly the last hope?

Sighing to himself, he turned on his side, the moonlight shining on his face and pillow, lighting his hair and the corner of his bed. He remembered the twins, the girls and their song. How did it go again?

'Ahh yes, I remember now.'

Drifting off to sleep as the music of the song played for him. Had he been completely awake he would have heard the words drifting along the air. A song that he heard so many times in his life that had he really thought about it he would have been able to sing them in his sleep.

Sleep my little Gazer, there within the stars we will dance.

For as long as you remember I'll return someday. If you never forget I'll never die.

Harry snuggled against his pillow, head filled with mystical music. His mind relaxing under the complex musical notes, drifting along the road of dreams, where once again he would see the twins.

Oh my little Gazer how I love thee, here within my heart you are mine.

No one shall ever lay harm to you, this spell I cast will protect you.

Dreams of a peaceful world, where he didn't have to worry about anything but what he would wear in the morning, who he would take to the Yule ball; Cho probably, maybe Hermonie depending on what she was wearing. No thoughts of Voldemort, no thoughts on Cedric Diggory, a person he failed, no thoughts on his dead parents, or on the horrible Dursleys. He thought of nothing that could harm him or make him feel guilty, that included Malfoy. No, in his dreams there was only peace, sun filled days and heated nights of running free.

When you wake you won't remember, how I passed away.

Sleep my little Gazer, I promise we will meet again someday.

What he wouldn't give to be free, a word that he knew not the meaning but knew the essence of the word. To be free, something he wanted more that saving his friends and the Wizarding world. Freedom, something he will never achieve no matter what the outcome of the war is. He will never be free, and that scared him to no end.

Time will pass my little Gazer, their eyes will dim with your glow.

Together you shall raise an army, and into my arms you will go.

Evil will come my little Gazer, his power will fill the lands.

Be strong my little Gazer for I shall be here, protecting you and Griffin.

Soon dawn will be upon him, good thing it was only Sunday or he would be awake trying hard to get ready before the others got up. Good thing it was Sunday, right now he really wanted to see the twins and the babies. How sad that they should never see their babies grow up, never see them take their first steps, or say their first words. Such a shame; to live a life without your parents.

Fight my little Gazer fight together, two beings fighting as one.

Call on me my little Gazer and I shall help thee, Call out my name.

Evil shall fall under our power, Evil shall quiver with our might.

And the four of us shall destroy all darkness, the power of our love shall prevail.

Harry's eyes closed once more, opening again lazily to glance at the moonlight that illuminated his pillow. How beautifully odd. He could've sworn he saw four beings floating across the light of his pillow, four beings dancing and merging as one within the moonlight. Maybe he was too close to the Dream world. Closing his eyes one final time he sighed, drifting into blissful sleep and thinking no more.

Four beings as one, fighting as one, destroying the Evil before us.

Then you shall see my little Gazer, who you really are.

My soul, my love, my son!

***

As Harry slipped into dreams, where he is free to live his life as a normal 15-year-old boy. Draco awaits that same release. A release from the stress and harshness of life and reality.

Draco is awake. His eyes soaking in the darkness of the room and snores of the space around him. He could not get back to sleep. No matter how he tried sleep stayed right outside his grasp. He reached over to tap his wand, silver light floated from the tip, forming the time. Two in the morning. What was he doing up at two in the morning anyway? He should be resting, not thinking about nothing while staring dumbly at the closed curtain around his bed. He could get up and explore, but what for? He had explored every nook and cranny of this school, and though he was sure there were places that he hadn't gone, he wasn't about to go looking for them now.

3 a.m. His wand read beside his bed. Shining its silver light over his already pale features. The metallic tint of the numbers briefly illuminated his face, showing high cheekbones and a sharp nose that he had gotten from his mother. He rose a bit to move his curtains, only a little to show the moonlight shining in from the small window at the corner of his room. The moonlight shined in his eyes instantly giving grey eyes the eerie look of pale silver.

4 a.m. The snores of his roommates distinguished themselves apart as Draco studied each one. Crabbe's had a low rumble, Goyle's was a slight loud nasal wheezing, and Blaise's snores were low and barely there. Once one stopped snoring another would pick up, leaving the air always with sound. A couple of times they were all silent, scaring Draco a bit until they all started again. He couldn't stand that they could sleep so peacefully and he had insomnia. Something inherited from his father.

5 a.m. The darkness seemed to take a life of its own, just teasing Draco, laughing at him because he and he alone couldn't sleep. Damn it all to Hell. Every time he felt like he was about to drift away into sleep the darkness would produce a noise, loud enough to completely wake him but low enough to keep the others sleep. Stupid darkness. Just as he began to feel that feeling of slow falling, he heard a shifting of one of his roommates' bed. Bed creaking. Sheets shuffling. More creaking. Bare feet hitting cold stone. Small yelp. Yawning. Padding feet. More yawns. Slight breathing. Then a sudden moving of his curtains wide open to reveal the dark silhouette of a person. Darkness. Shifting of bodies. Snuggling of limbs together. Silence.

How could he forget? At five in the morning, everyday for the past 13 years of his life, Blaise Zambini has woke up and gotten into his bed. He loved this boy with all his heart, a true friend amongst all the people he knew. One of his best friends, the person he told his secrets to and confided in when he had nowhere to go. Someone that understood him better than he understood himself. His better half as he liked to call him. Draco wrapped his arms around Blaise letting him lay his head on Draco's chest. His hair of a rich brown lay over the white tee shirt that covered Draco's chest from view.

Draco ran his fingers in Blaise's hair, every once in a while twirling it along his fingertips and letting go. Blaise only fell deeper into a more relaxed state as Draco played silently with his hair. A sweet scent of strawberry and kiwi drifted along the senses as Blaise breathed in the sweet scent of fresh clean smell. He knew Draco loved it when he washed his hair with that Muggle shampoo. Yeah he knew it was a Muggle product but it smelled really good and he just couldn't help himself. He snuggled closer to Draco and began to gently push himself into sleep.

But he couldn't go to sleep yet they were still waiting. The darkness danced around them in a fit of excited impatience. Listening to the air around them, they almost missed the sound of their door opening and closing. The curtain pulled open and closed, fast, a technique that after years of jumping into each other's bed had become a must. When you are sneaking around you want to get into the bed fast without raising curiosity. The bed leaned from the weight, and then settled as the new person snuggled against the pillows and Draco. Silent breathing. A soft finger slither its way into his hair and around his chest.

It never amazed him how Pansy timed it just right. That she would arrive right after Blaise got into bed, but before they fell into sleep. She was just crafty that way. Sometimes he would ask her how she managed to come at just the right time, she would always smile at him.

***

"Years of sneaking into your house Darkness, has tuned me to the right time. I just feel it when I need to get up."

"So Beauty, will there ever be a time when you won't be on time?"

"No Reason! I will always be there. Remember that. I will always be there!"

***

Darkness. Beauty. Reason. The nicknames they had given each other when they were 3. Why they had given those particular names were beyond him, but there they were. Draco as Darkness, Pansy as Beauty, and Blaise as Reason. The only two people in his life that he couldn't imagine not growing old together, the only two people in his life that he loved more than himself and his family. Around these two people he could be himself. Not the proud Malfoy or the emotionless Draco. No Darkness, the person who looks out for his own, protects his own and makes sure that his friends and family are safe.

But how could he protect them from what is coming up? How could he save them from the doom that will eventually engulf them all? How could he grow old with his to other halves when they might die fighting this war? A quiet sneer formed across his face. War! Not his war, or Pansy's war, or Blaise's war or even this bloody school's war. Hell this war didn't even involve Potter! No this was his father's war, Dumbledore's war, and Voldemort's war! They were fighting their parent's war and they, the children, would be the only causalities.

His father always told him that he should be proud, that he was going to fight against the 'Light' in the name of Voldemort and his family name. But why should he feel proud? His friends and him would be the first to die before the 'Light' even got to the Inner circle especially Voldemort. In other words he should feel proud that his friends, people younger than him, and people older than him, would be the foot soldiers, dying for the Dark Cause.

He turned and looked to the sleeping forms of his friends. Their eyebrows relaxed and calm as they dreamed of the same peaceful world that he himself dreamed of. He couldn't imagine them dying right before his eyes. That was why they had discussed at length what they would do. All summer they had talked about it, pondering the shame and anger they would more than likely get from their housemates, but also thinking on how many people would follow them.

For their safety they had decided to join the 'Light'. For their lives, for the love they share unconditionally for each other, they had all decided to join Harry Potter. Not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived or the Savior of the Wizarding world. Not because he represented all of the 'Light' side. No they wanted to join him because he represented the Second generation. They wanted to join him because he represented his peers, the children.

Harry will march to that battle field as a child, expected to battle countless obstacles that only a full grown wizard with three times his experience could do. Here was a fifteen-year-old boy expected to defeat the greatest Dark Wizard, who killed so many without raising a hand, who with a flick of his wrist can kill powerful witches and wizards without even a care. And here they expected a young boy to accomplish what they, trained Witches and Wizard, couldn't. They expected a damn child to fight their battle? They expected children to back him up, coming up with strategies to win a war that they as children shouldn't even be allowed to participate in? They expected children to fight and win, and in Draco's case, fight and die. Oh how he pitied himself and his peers.

'Little children all around. Bred to carry on. Bred to fight. Bred to die.'

His mother used to say that to him whenever she came to kiss him goodnight. Her long blond hair always feels across his face in the most soothing of manners. He loved her as well, though not as much as he should. They just were two different people. Sighing he looked once more to his wand. 6a.m. Breakfast will be soon, and he was quite hungry. One hour, that was all he needed. Hell that was all he ever really got to sleep lately anyway. Closing his eyes, he remembered the Twins in his dreams. Mentally telling himself that he still had to remember to call his father in the morning he snuggled against his best friends and drifted to sleep.

Oh my little son, eyes the color of the moon.

Sweet and gentle son, open your heart to mine.

The sun rose silently over the horizon, kissing the castle slightly before warming briefly the air. The dew drops glistening over the grass, as the bird woke to feed their young.

Here we stand alone, you and I as one.

Sweet and gentle son, my only son!

Now my son we part, don't cry I shall return.

Soon we shall combine, me and my only son.

The Forbidden Forest seemed to swell with the sun, its magic growing slightly and falling, as if it breathed in the Sun's warmth. Welcoming in the full power of the world as its creatures awoke.

We will meet again, they will know our names.

Me and my only son, powerful and inseparable.

They shall fall to their knees, those that took you away.

No one shall harm us, me and my only son.

Hogwarts woke with the morning, it's powers, far more than anyone could understand even its Headmaster, gently prodding through people's dreams and telling them internally that it was a new day.

Doom will come your way, Evil will rise again.

Me and my only son, raising an army of good.

Fighting along with Phoenix, oh my son of the light.

Darkness shall grab for your hand, but he shall show you the way.

Oh my only son, I love you now and always.