Authors Note: Okay, well as you can probably guess, this is my first fic and I'm not that great at writing! I just had this idea that I thought might work well, and here we are, so any feedback or criticism would be appreciated. Thanx!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything (except my computer, piece of poo that it is) or anyone.

Setting: This is set about five years after the gang have left Hogwarts, Hermione, Ron and Harry are still all best friends and see each other a lot. Hermione is a doctor at St Mungo's, and Harry and Ron are Aurors. Voldemort is still around, but they're really close to getting him and the death eaters are panicking and deserting him, that is, all except one family...

Chapter 1: A New Beginning.

The early morning sunlight slanted through the slightly open curtains and hit the face of a sleeping young woman. Hermione Granger stirred and groaned as she slowly focused on her surroundings. Glancing at her watch, she rolled out of the makeshift bed in the doctor's lounge.

"I HATE being on call," she snarled at nobody in particular.

It was 5:50 in the morning and she still had another seven hours to go until her shift was over. Luckily for her it had been a quiet night and she had managed to grab an inadequate three hours sleep on a sofa in the sparsely furnished room laughingly called the doctors lounge.

A loud and intensely irritating beep broke Hermione's sleepy half-doze and snapped her back to attention. Her pager was bleeping, and it was bleeping loud, this could only mean one thing, and it put paid to any thought of further sleep.

"Stupid people, can't they go five minutes without injuring themselves?" She sighed, and pushed the button on her pager that informed the nurses on duty that she was alive and coming to help with the imminently arriving emergency.

* * *

SIX HOURS EARLIER

At ten minutes to midnight, his thoughts were clear and he was prepared for the honour about to be bestowed upon him. His entire life had been leading up to this point, this was the day that he was finally able to join the cause that he had supported for so long. He was the youngest person ever to join Voldemort in his quest for world domination.

Draco Malfoy was an intense and domineering young man, and nobody had ever stood between him and something that he wanted. His determination was unmatched, and he would never stop trying until he either succeeded or he died. Luckily for him, the second option had not occurred so far. It was these qualities that made him so perfect for what Voldemort had in mind for the next part of his plan. His last stand.

The ceremony was to take place in a clearing deep in an ancient, powerful forest on the outskirts of London. This charmed place had been the site of rituals and worship for thousands of years, and power from the ancients was buried deep in the old trees. It seeped up from the ground to fill the night air with a dreamy mysticism and a terrible sense of purpose.

On the dry and leaf littered ground of the clearing a small group of people waited for the time to be right. It was nearly midnight on the eve of Voldemort's birth, when the ritual would have the most potency. It was a clear night, and as he waited Draco looked up at the stars and wondered what, if anything they would make of that night's deeds.

It was a secret pleasure of Draco's to go out on clear nights, with a blanket onto the large expanse of lawn outside Malfoy Manor and just gaze at the stars. Somehow they always made him feel insignificant, and his problems just melted away as he spent hours with his head craned back to see the full expanse of sky.

This, however, was no night for day-dreaming, and Draco reluctantly dragged himself back to the task in hand. The ritual, that he had been preparing for, for so long was mere minutes away, and a sickening sense of both dread and anticipation gathered itself in the pit of his stomach. He looked around at the group of people that were around him, and wondered, not for the first time, what twisted sense of fate had lead him to be there that night, with those people.

His father was stood on his left, with an inner grin shining in his eyes. This must be the high point of his life, thought Draco, with disgust for his father rising like a tide through him. Ever since Draco could remember, his father had taken no notice of him, other than when berating or beating him. At least until Voldemort had expressed an interest in him that is, and then his father couldn't do enough for him. Anything for Voldemort's special favourite.

Five minutes to go now, and Draco pulled his mind once again to the ordeal that was to begin very shortly. What's wrong with me tonight? Draco mused as he pondered his uncharacteristic lack of focus. Pull yourself together. This is what you've been waiting for. DON'T RUIN IT NOW!.

"It is nearly time." Voldemort's distinctive nasal voice rang out, shattering the peaceful quiet of the clearing. "Tonight is the night that we've been waiting for, you faithful few, and tonight we shall be rewarded. This is the night that is the beginning of the end for all our enemies. Once I have joined myself with Draco, nobody will be able to stand in our way. Thos who have deserted us WILL be made to pay, and you shall reap the benefits."

A resounding cheer broke out in response to the stirring speech, and then the time was upon them.