The little boy sat up in bed, with his dark green blanket pulled up to his chin. He stared at his father expectantly. It was eight o’clock, and he had gone to bed without a fuss. He even got ready on his own. Now he wanted his reward—his favorite bedtime story.

His father stared down at his son’s hopeful eyes. “You really want to hear it again?� he asked.

“Yes,� the little boy told him. “I love the story of our Dark Lord.�

“It’s not a good story, my son. We lost.�

“But he’ll be back, and next time, we’ll win.�

The older man beamed at his son. “Right you are,� he agreed.

“So will you tell me the story again?�

The father smiled. “Yes, I will tell you again.�

The little boy settled in, and waited for his father to begin. As the familiar words poured from his father’s mouth, the boy closed his eyes, and listened intently.

“Once upon a time, there was a very powerful and intelligent wizard. He had spent his life watching the wizarding world—his world, live in hiding and secrecy. He watched as witches and wizards lived in fear of being discovered by their lesser counterparts, Muggles. And he simply could not understand. Why would wizards chose to live in fear of something that is lesser than them when they could simply dispose of it? If Muggles wanted to harm wizards, then wizards should be entitled to fight back.

As time went on, this wizard began to gather loyal followers. People who understood that this wizard was right—people like your mum and me. He called us Death Eaters, and we were proud to carry the name.

Unfortunately, he also developed some enemies. The type of people who thought Muggles should be spared, just so they could attack us again, like they have in the past. They developed a group of their own, The Order of the Phoenix. It was lead by a very crazy old wizard, Albus Dumbledore. He would sooner see the extinction of all the remaining pureblood families then harm a foolish useless Muggle.

The war waged on between the two sides. There was a lot of death. People were dying for what they believed in. Then a prophesy was made, declaring that a child would be born with the power to defeat our lord. Naturally, the Death Eaters were horrified, but our lord assured us that this child would be stopped.

The Dark Lord chose one of his followers to find all the children that would qualify under the prophesy. They were looking for a child who would be born at the end of July to parents who had thrice defied our lord, as was described in the prophesy. Unfortunately, our lord was unable to hear the entire prophesy, and I believe that is what caused him to meet his doom. He was far too intelligent a man to be defeated when he had all the facts.

It was discovered that there were only two children who fit the profile, Harry Potter, born the James and Lily Potter, and Neville Longbottom, born to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Using his great powers of deduction, our lord determined that the chosen child was Harry Potter.

Somehow, the Potters learnt that they had been identified as a danger to the Dark Lord. No one knows how they obtained this information. However, it is believed that someone within our own ranks turned spy for the Order. That person was clearly wrong, and I am certain that one day they will receive the punishment they so thoroughly deserve.

But back to the story; because someone had tipped off the Potters, they were able to go into hiding. They eluded our lord for over a year. They were hiding in the village town of Godric's Hollow, and using the Fidelius Charm to make themselves undetectable. It was not until the Potters decided to change their secret keeper that we were finally able to find them. You see, they changed their secret keeper to one of the Dark Lord’s most loyal followers. No one knows who it was, but it was he who led our master to the evil child, and its disrespectful parents.

Our lord went to Godric’s Hollow to dispose of the threat, and it was there that he met his doom. The most powerful wizard in the entire world was destroyed by a baby. It was truly a dark night for our kind.

No one knows exactly what went on inside that cottage. The Potter man was killed first, almost instantly, I believe. Rumor has it that our lord gave the Potter woman a chance to live, but I’ll never know why. Our lord surely had his reasons, but why he would want filth like that to live, I will never understand. But no matter, the Mudblood was too stupid to take his deal anyway. She chose death, simply to prove that she was the fool we all believed her to be.

Our lord had a clear shot at the baby. It should have worked fine. The child should have been killed. Our lord should have returned to us. We should have had a celebration to end all celebrations. But alas, something went dreadfully wrong. When our lord attempted to use the Killing Curse on the child it backfired, leaving him dead. Or at least, that’s what most people believe. I do not believe our lord is dead. He was too strong to die. He’s out there, and someday he will return to us. Someday, we will be able to continue with his work, and get vengeance on the one who took him away for so long.�

The father looked down at his son, hoping to find him ready for sleep, but if anything the child was more alert than before he told the story. He really was going to have to start refusing to tell it. It only seemed to make the boy hyper at bedtime.

“It’s time for sleep, now,� he said, in a firm but loving voice.

“Can I ask a question first?� the boy stared at him, with his large innocent eyes.

“What is it, my son?�

“When the Dark Lord returns, can I serve him? Can I be a Death Eater? I want to help our lord overcome the foolish wizards who want us to be prisoners to stupid Muggles.�

The father beamed. “Of course, you can. I know that you will be a great asset to our lord when your time comes.� He bent over his son, and kissed him softly on the forehead. “And on that day, I will be the proudest father in the world.�

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A/N: I got the idea for this story while I was watching The Philosopher’s Stone. I was at the part where Minerva tells Dumbledore that every child in their world will know Harry's name. That made me think about just how they would know his name. I thought parents telling their children stories of that night was the most logical way of passing his name along. Then I wondered what Death Eater would tell their children about the great Harry Potter, and Ta-Da! I just felt an urge to share how this story came to be. I hope you enjoyed reading it!