This chapter took a long time to write, and is a little longer than most. I didn't want to cut it down as it deals with a definite section of the story in itself.
He went to reach for his wand, but before he could put his hand in his pocket a gloved hand clasped him round the wrist with a pincer like grip, before spinning him round so his face was pressed up against the wall and his arm was twisted behind him.
"Move and I'll break it." Said the voice as he twisted Harry's arm a little further just to show that he could do.
"What interest would I be to you? You're obviously not going to mug me." Harry said as calmly as he could. "It's already been ten seconds and you haven't asked for my wallet. Do you work for Voldemort?"
"Yes." Came the reply.
"I recognise your voice."
"So you should. We have met before after all." Said the man as he loosened his grip on Harry a little. Harry could have broken out of the hold, but he knew this man didn't pose much of a threat to him, at least not on his own. Instead he merely cursed at the fact he hadn't anticipated this already.
"What do you want?" Harry asked
"That's a good question, and there are a few things, but the main thing I want to know Harry, is what do you want with Hermione?" the man asked.
"Nothing." He replied as suddenly the grip tightened again. Harry heard his shoulder click out of place as the tendons strained.
"You lie."
"Let me go and perhaps I can explain better. After all I know you can't kill me, and you won't get anything from breaking my arm.
"I'm not going to break your arm..." The man said softly as he whispered into Harry's ear. "But you are right, I can't kill you, and even if I could I don't know if I would."
"I think you would." Harry said curtly. "You lot eat death for breakfast, or so the name would suggest.
"mmm well I already had cereal." The man said, though he had a tone of uncertainty about him.
"Whatever, I know what you are, I have seen the mark on your arm."
Suddenly the man released his grip on Harry, who spun round and drew his wand, though he knew he would never use it against such a weak opponent.
"You know I have nothing against you Harry, except who you are. I wish things were different but they are not. You did a great job these last three years so why bother coming back now, why do you test my promises?"
"She is getting married."
"What has that to do with you?" The man asked as he removed his sunglasses and took his hat off. He had long black hair just as he had last time Harry had seen him, though there were a few streaks of grey that had obviously been missed by the die he undoubtedly used.
"She is my best friend and I promised her a long time ago I would go to her wedding."
"She doesn't expect you to keep that promise. I forbid you to go Harry. If you love her as I think you do, then you won't go."
"You claim to be a decent man, yet you threaten me with her life. That's just the way of a death eater, to threaten someone with the ones they care for."
"I love her." The man replied. "And I do what I must to protect her. If that means threatening to kill her to save her from what she would be subjected to because of you, then that's something I know I must do." He said with a raspy voice as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
"You must do nothing of the sort. For the last three years I have been working undercover. I have been, for the Government of Australia to bring about and execute without trial, all suspected Death Eaters. The only reason you forbid me from what was meant to be mine, the reason you feel the right to rob me of my life, is because of some stupid imagination of yours. The threat isn't very real anymore. Most death Eaters have been bought to justice." Harry shouted. A few muggles walking past the alley looked at them suspiciously, but none cared to involve themselves with such shifty figures.
"You haven't killed all have you though Harry." The man said with a sneer. "I'm one and you haven't killed me, and I bet I'm not the only one."
"You're right, you're not the only one," Harry replied. "But it doesn't matter because I didn't come here to stop her getting married. I came here so I could see her marry another man, and put my life behind me, which until now has always trailed me like a shadow. "I'm not the groom, you got what you wanted. You Won." He said sullenly, before turning and walking out onto the main street, leaving Mr Granger where he was standing.
He hated that man, if possible, more than he hated any other. Voldemort was a mass murdered, and he took pleasure in torturing and tearing families apart, yet Harry had never known him to threaten to kill his own flesh and blood. Harry would have to lie to Hermione again, something he hated doing. He would never mention today's meeting, just as he would never mention the meeting three years ago, on the day that Harry left his life behind."
The reason he had left England, the reason he had gone to live in Sydney, on the far side of the world. It was perhaps because Hermione broke his heart, but that was only the reason he could tell his friends. There was the other reason, the one he could never tell anyone, and a reason he tried never to even remember.
It had been three years ago, almost to the day that he had arranged to see Mr Granger. It had been arranged some time in advance, and even though Hermione let him down when she didn't come home, he knew what he still wanted, he wanted to marry her. Nothing would ever change his mind. He knew he wanted to marry her then, he knew he would in the future, and he certainly had for as long as he had known she loved him back.
Harry woke up on that morning, the morning of the day after their argument, and the morning of the day on which he would leave. He glanced across the bed to see an empty space besides him. He didn't know if Hermione had left early, or if she had even made it back in the first place. He tried not to think about it, and instead concentrated on the task at hand. He had got the morning off Quidditch practice and would be going to Diagon alley this morning to meet Mr Granger. He pulled himself out of bed before showering and breakfast. He still had a little while yet so he sat at the kitchen table with the sun shining in through the net curtains as he did the crossword.
After that he spent several minutes deciding what clothes to choose. He wanted to appear smart, and yet not like he had dressed up for the occasion. He wanted to look relatively Muggle, without trying to deny the wizard fashions. He had spoken to Mr Granger on several occasions, but Hermione had always been there, and without her Harry wasn't really sure there would be much of a common interest or grounds to cover during conversation. Still they were going to be discussing Hermione so he supposed it would go well enough.
Once he was fully ready, and after watching count down on television (and humming to the timer) he set out for Diagon alley. At this point in his life he didn't really have much of a disliking against magic. He didn't use it all the time, for magic reminded him of the battle against Voldemort, yet he still lived in his magical life, with Hermione and his friends, and so he wasn't yet running from it.
He took the floo network and managed to arrive five minutes later at Diagon alley, being held up only briefly by morning traffic. Mr Granger had insisted on meeting in Diagon alley, for he realised that to Harry being in a Muggle environment could be dangerous, and also because he did love the ice cream which was available here. Harry walked along the cobbled stone courtyard to where they were meant to meet. Several people greeted him on his way and he courteously replied with a smile and a hello, before carrying on his way.
The café was a small one, with metal tables outside, which at this time of year was ideal. It was to dark and fusty inside the leaky cauldron, whilst the gentle autumn weather meant the sun wasn't going to be burning the back of their necks and leave them squinting for the whole conversation. Harry cast a glance round and saw that Mr Granger wasn't there yet, which was a good thing. He took a seat at one of the table and ordered himself a glass of Coke Cola, He wasn't much a fan of coffee. Three minutes later Harry spotted the figured of Mr Granger approaching.
He was dressed as a Muggle would dress, but he was wearing a black cape, which diverted much of the attention he would otherwise be attracting. He had shoulder length black hair which he kept tied in a pony tail, and when he smiled at Harry he could see a set of dazzling white teeth which could belong only to a dentist or a celebrity (or a celebrity dentist).
"Sorry I'm late." Mr Granger said as he removed his cloak and hung it over the back of his chair.
"You're not late." Harry assured him. "I just made sure to be early."
"So how are you Harry? I haven't seen you since Easter?" Mr Granger began as they started with small talk. Neither of them broached the topic of why they were really there, and Harry wondered if Mr Granger suspected the truth, for he was an intelligent man.
"So Harry why was it you wanted to speak to me?" Mr Granger asked as he scratched one of his lower arms which was concealed under a long sleeve jumper.
"Well I was planning on asking Hermione to marry me, but I thought it would be best if I asked you first."
Well Harry that's rather noble of you." Mr Granger said without a smile. "But why do you ask me? If I said no you would go and do it anyway wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I suppose I would, but it would feel better knowing I have her family's blessings. I know how much Hermione cares about your opinions after all."
"Yes that is true, since her mother passed away she has been rather, caring… But tell me Harry why do you want to marry my daughter and why should I say yes?" He asked as he scratched his arm some more.
Harry hesitated for a moment, slightly unsure as to at what point exactly it had varied from his imagination. Still he tried his best to answer and keep things going smoothly.
"Um, I would like to marry her because I love her and she loves me and I think we would be happy together."
"Well i guess that sounds like a good reason." Mr granger said distractedly. "But I'm afraid Harry that I can't give you my permission to do so yet. I don't think now is a good time. After all you two haven't been together that long and there is no need to rush things is there. I'm sorry to say it but I think you should wait.
Harry was speechless as he listened to this. Sure him and Hermione hadn't been going out long but they had been best friends for years, and so it was like going out all that time, except without the physical aspect…
"Are you sure I couldn't change your mind at all?" Harry asked. "It's just I had it planned and…" He began before being cut off.
"No I'm afraid I can't allow it to happen." He said as he took a sip of his drink. At this point however something happened which killed off all conversation which was that as he raised his glass to his mouth, his sleeve fell down a little, revealing part of what appeared to be a tattoo. It was a skull with a snake coiled through it, and to most it meant nothing, but to Harry it was the very sign of evil itself.
"You're a death eater!" He exclaimed as he jumped up from his seat and reached for his wand. "What do you say in your defence?" Harry asked threateningly. Mr Granger looked mildly annoyed about the turn of events, but not scared.
"My defence? I will say Harry that if you want Hermione to live you won't lay a finger on me." There was a silence that followed this threat, which broke when Harry swore.
"You bastard!"
"No Harry that would be you. Now sit down and I will explain a thing or two."
Harry remained standing for several seconds, before sitting back down again. He didn't want to do what Mr. Granger was saying, but he felt his legs would give way beneath him. Hermione was so pure and innocent, like a child. She had never done anything wrong, yet how could she be the daughter of this, this scum? He wanted to see the scar just to make sure it was still there.
"Now Harry." Mr Granger said calmly as he leant back on his chair, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I don't feel the need to explain myself to you, After all you are the enemy. I will however be kind enough to tell you what you must do, and what should happen if you don't follow what I say. Do you understand."
"I understand what you say but not why you say it." Harry said as he looked round. He couldn't bear to look at this man anymore. It made him feel worse about Hermione. Something he never thought he could do.
"That's good enough. Now Harry what is going to happen is this. I don't want you to marry my daughter, so you aren't going to do that. I trust that you haven't asked her yet, otherwise you wouldn't have asked my permission."
"But…" Harry went to say, but Mr.Granger ploughed on, seemingly unaware of Harry's indignation.
"I don't however feel we shall stop there. What I think you will do Harry is this. After you have left here, you shall return straight home, you will pack up all your belongings and say goodbye to your life. You are to leave the country, and to cease all contact with my daughter. If she asks you why you left, then you will give her an indirect message, through Ron or someone else. I don't care what excuse you use for your leaving. You can probably come up with a more convincing one than I can. As long as it is not the real reason."
"What if I shouldn't?" Harry asked defiantly. This proposal was becoming worse and worse by the second.
"If you would be so polite as to not interrupt me, we would already have begun on that. What will happen, should you break any of the rules that I have laid down for you, then you will be killed, and failing that, as I'm sure we will, Hermione shall be killed. I know you do not want that to happen, and I'm sure you will agree with me that knowing she is safe is better than knowing she is dead. After all a quick death is better than a lot of things."
"Why don't I just tell her about you, about what you really are?" Harry spat as he held his drink so hard in his hand that the handle broke off.
"And what am i?" Mr Granger asked, so that Harry could say it.
"A Death Eater." Harry said, causing Mr.Granger to grin slyly.
"Well now I haven't forbidden you to tell her Harry." Mr Granger said with a smile. "You have forbidden yourself. Your conscious will render you unable to, I believe. And I do believe correctly don't I?"
Hermione worshipped her father. Since her mother had passed away some five years or more ago, her father had been all she had. Him and Harry.
"I would never do that to her." Harry said quietly. So quietly Mr Granger could hardly hear him."
"Of course you wouldn't." He said as he took on a patronisingly comforting voice. "The thought of it would kill her. After all if she was to find out, either she would come hunting for me, and one of us would die, or else I would be tried, and found guilty, and given a Dementors kiss, which from what I hear, would be no less bearable to her."
"I see I have no choice." Harry said as his brain raced. There must have been a way out. Surely he couldn't be blackmailed so simply. But no, there was no way out. Not one that he could see. After all he cared for Hermione and wanted her to have the best. When it came to either having her father die, or her boyfriend leave her, he knew which would hurt the most. He would have to leave. After all perhaps she could take comfort knowing he was safe, in the same way that he would. He doubted that would be the case though.
"Good. I think that about settles it." Mr granger said as he laid some money on the table and rose form his seat. "It was a pleasure speaking to you again Harry." He said sincerely. We went to leave, but as he walked past Harry, the later spoke.
"I have one question though. Do you not care for your daughter at all?"
For the first time that day Mr Granger had a real look of anger on his face.
"Of course I do. More than you will ever know. I just think she is better off without you." And with that he continued on his way. Harry was left sitting on his own at the table for the next forty five minutes, as he tried to think of some way out of what had been said to him. He didn't move, as he stared blankly into the air. (In fact he was so still that someone thought he was one of those street performers, and threw some money at him)
At the end of it all he came to the conclusion that he only had to choices. He could either leave, walk away from the woman he loved, or he could stay and risk what Mr granger had said. He wouldn't really have his own daughter killed would he? It wasn't something he could risk, no matter how low the chances were.
An hour later he was back at his home, with two suitcases packed, and on his way to the airport.
"You're next flight to Sydney please." He said as he shuddered involuntarily at the thought of it, despite the warm weather. "First class please."
"Will that be a return ticket?" The woman behind the counter asked.
"No, one way." He responded coldly. The woman glanced briefly into his eyes, causing her heart to beat madly in fear. He had a presence about him one like a caged animal… "It's all I will need."
He paid before marching off to the other side of the airport. No more Hermione, no more life.
"A one way ticket to hell." He said to no one, before disappearing from the face of the earth.
Back in the present day Harry had stormed off away from Mr Granger, and was now sitting on a park bench. He had walked for the best part of a mile, just so he could calm down a little, before finding another phone box and giving Ron a call. Ron had been in the bath at the time but he would come and pick Harry up shortly he said. That meant there would probably be a fair wait, knowing Ron's standards.
Although it was still early in the morning, just gone ten o'clock, Harry already felt tired. Perhaps it was the fact that he had seen Hermione naked, been caught on the phone by her fiancé, chucked out of the place he was staying at, or been threatened by a death Eater, but he was left with the conclusion that it had been a long morning and would probably be an even longer day. What he needed right now (besides Hermione) was some alcohol.
Normally he wasn't much of a man of it. Hunting Death Eaters demanded his full senses and as he learned from experience going after them when you cant pronounce your spells or walk in a straight line, isn't a good idea. However, today he felt in rather need of succour, and he knew how to do it, and who with.
"Fancy a drink?" Harry asked as Ron pulled up in the car park.
"Jesus Harry the day has only just started and already you want a drink?"
"It's been a bad day." Harry responded gloomily.
"All your days are bad Harry. How many bad things are there today?" Ron asked as he leant against the side of his car. Harry counted for a moment.
"Four."
"Four? Only you could manage so much this early in the day. Come on then let's have a drink." Ron said with a sigh. "As long as it's somewhere with food as well."
They agreed on the Milton Arms, which was where Harry and Ron had gone two days ago, on the night when he first got back. It was a "family pub" as it was called. Which meant it was open earlier in the day, and had a better selection of food. Although it was a bit of a drive away, especially threw the morning traffic neither of them minded. After about fifteen minutes of slow progress through the city centre Ron turned to Harry.
"You can start with your troubles now if you like. It sounds like we will be at it for a while, if your problems today are anything like your old ones."
"Well it doesn't sound bad…" Harry began, as he considered that indeed it hadn't been entirely unenjoyable, "But this morning I saw Mione naked."
"Ron snorted at this, before doubling over. It was a good job they were at some traffic lights for They would have had difficulty staying in the right lane.
"It's serious." Harry said sternly, causing Ron to stop laughing, though he did continue to smile for a while longer.
"I'm sure it is." He said as he stared at Harry. "How did it happen? You didn't go peeping did you?"
"No I did not." Harry said blushing. Although it was truthful he supposed what he had been doing the night before was nothing less than that.
He proceeded to tell the story to Ron, who found it highly amusing.
"She had been in the shower and everything Ron!" He said with a pained expression. Ron nodded grimly. He knew only to well. "Girls look better wetter." That was his motto.
"I still don't see why its much of a problem. I mean you have seen it all before."
"I know." Harry said. It was true. He had seen it all before, lots of time… in lots of places. But it wasn't the same.
"I know Ron but… It's different. That was a life time ago. I was a different person and it was ok for me to love her back then… I don't want old feelings coming back again…"
"So that's what the problem is. Feelings have come back again." Ron stated, rather than asked. They were still driving, which was good because it made Harry feel less the focus of attention. He needed a few strong drinks before he could talk freely. He didn't respond to Ron but then went onto the next two problems.
"It's all your stupid sisters fault." Harry said grimly. Ron smiled at this remark.
"I have been saying that for years but mum never believes me. Like I would set fire to my own bedroom, why would I want to do that for?"
They arrived at the pub a short while later, which was empty apart from a family and the staff. Most people that wanted to drink at this time of morning went to Smokey little pubs where they could be drunk and profane in peace. Harry quickly managed to drink enough to become thoroughly uncaring, whilst Ron ate a cooked breakfast and slowly drank his first alcoholic beverage of the day. Harry was on his fifth.
"You said there were four problems." Ron said as he raised a sausage to his mouth. "You have only told me three." Harry hesitated for a minute. He probably should have said that there were only three problems.
"I can't tell you about that." Harry said slowly. His brain hadn't yet been hit with the full force of what he had drunk, but it had began.
"You can tell me anything." Said Ron indignantly. "You know that Harry."
"No, I can't." Harry corrected him.
"There are some things about me I could never tell you. I have done things, and seen tings that I could never tell anyone, for they are so dark, so unspeakable. That should I tell those tales then everyone around me would leave." There was a profound silence that followed this. Ron knew Harry had some secrets, but he never cared to investigate them.
"Forgive me for saying so Harry, but it kind of already happened, only they didn't leave you, you left them."
"Well it's similar not the same Ron. At least if I was the one to leave I had a choice to come back."
"You still have the choice Harry." Ron said. "You can stay… Ginny doesn't have a boyfriend." Ron suggested, though he knew this wouldn't convince Harry to stay or even rouse him from his depression. Harry finished off another drink, before giving Ron a stare, and going for another round.
Back in a small Muggle village, was a house, neat in appearance, belonging to a Muggle man which we have already had the pleasure (or displeasure perhaps) of meeting. His name was Granger, Lucas Granger. He sat in his living room at the moment, with a glass of red wine in his hand. The television had been on for the last half hour, though if anyone were to ask him what was playing, he wouldn't be able to reply. His thoughts were else where today.
He had only found out about Harry's return to England today. It had been in a small article in the daily prophet. Apparently he had been seen yesterday in Diagon alley. Lucas was not a stupid man and realised what this meant. If Harry Potter was back in England then he sure as hell would have paid a visit to Hermione. If Lucas had found out about Harrys return, purely due to reading over breakfast, then there was no doubt in his mind as to whether the Death Eaters would know.
There weren't too many of them left these days. With Voldemort dead and Lucius in Azkaban. The one who seemed to be in charage of the rag tag band of murderers at the moment was Bellatrix. Whilst Voldemort would not return yet (though undoubtedly he would), his wishes were still being carried out. Harry's presence put his daughter into danger at the time, and no doubt still would.
If the Death Eaters met tonight, and they usually did on Tuesdays, then he could report to them on his encounter with Harry Potter, and assure them that he had no interest in Hermione what so ever. It was a strange situation, but one that had been the cause of so much thought and worry. It had caused Hermione so much pain, and yet she did not know it. The whole story had begun some years ago, five to be exact. Back when Harry and Hermione had just been friends, before there love had started, there relationship was already doomed.
Five years ago was when Hermione's mother had died, in her own home. It was a stormy afternoon in Autumn. There hadn't been many appointments at work that day, and so Lucas said that Michelle, his wife, could go home early.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay and help you clear up?" She asked at two o clock.
"No that's alright." Lucas replied with a smile. "It shouldn't take to long anyway. You go home and have a nice rest without having to worry about me."
So that was what she had done. Lucas always regretted it since, for he felt that perhaps if she had stayed, that everything would be different. That his wife would be alive, and his daughter would be married to the man she had once loved. Michelle had pulled on her coat, and set off from work. It was only a fifteen minute walk home, but by the time she stepped into the front door her clothes had soaked through. She turned on the gas fire before getting out of her wet clothes and slipping into her dressing gown.
It was still early in the day, yet she wasn't planning on going back out, and she certainly hadn't been planning on dying. The rain was pounding against the windows, so that even though the living room was warming up nicely she didn't feel warm. She walked over to the windows and drew the red curtains. Perhaps if she had done so slightly slower she would have seen the shadow at the far end of the garden, of a waiting Death Eater. She sat on the arm chair closet to the fire place, with her legs curled up underneath her, and a crime book in her hand. She enjoyed a good murder as much as the next person, as long as it was on paper.
An hour and a half later she got up from the chair, before pouring herself another mug of hot chocolate and putting the over to heat up. She also got the chocolate biscuits from the kitchen. They were her favourite. As she returned to her book, she had no idea that everything was falling into place, and that the final hour of her life had begun. There were four Death Eaters waiting patiently for her husband to return, so that they may begin their task.
Thirty minutes later Lucas arrived home and put the food in the oven to cook.
"The rain is really picking up out there." He said as he took off his coat and hung it by the radiator in the hall way. "I should have walked home earlier and made you do the last appointment. You know the woman, old one, what's her name, Figgs! She never shuts up about her stupid cats, even while I'm trying work."
Michelle laughed as she placed her book down on the coffee table. The clock showed that it was just gone half past five. Another way of looking at the time, would be the last fifteen minutes of her life.
"Well I offered to stay for a reason." She said innocently as she got up form the chair. You go get yourself out of those wet clothes and I will lay the table.
"Would you care to neglect the table and assist me?" Lucas asked as he raised an eyebrow suggestively. Michelle rolled her eyes.
"I saw a wonderful necklace in the jewellery shop on the way home though." She said as she ignored her husband. "I was thinking Hermione might like it. It's a pity I can't ask her, She says she is going to come home for Christmas this year though." She said brightly. "It seems we see her less and less these days." She didn't get to carry on though as at that moment there was a loud and hurried knock on the door.
"Who the devil could that be?" Lucas asked who paused half way up the stairs. The knocking didn't cease, in fact it became more frantic. "Ok I'm coming." Lucas grumbled as he made his way to the front door to answer what could only be described as rude knocking.
"Can I help you?" Lucas asked as he opened the door to someone dressed in a crimson cloak, who was absolutely soaked through. He was identified as a wizard, due to his attire, and he had wet hair which was clinging to his neck. Lucas had no way of knowing that this was a Death Eater.
"I work for the Ministry of Magic." He said hurriedly as he held up a badge which with a quick glance could be seen to show the words, "Ministry", "Auror" and "Employee." "I was on my way home from work when I was ambushed by three Death Eaters. They are the follower of an Evil dark lord." He explained, despite the fact the Grangers already knew.
Lucas didn't say anything, but cast the man a concerned look. He had a cut on his cheek which hadn't been noticeable upon first appraisal.
"I lost the Death Eaters a short while ago but I was wondering if you have a fireplace I could use to contact my colleges for back up." He asked as he drew some soggy parchment out of his pocket.
"Certainly, certainly. Will a gas fire place do?" Mr Granger asked.
"As long as it has flames." Replied the Death Eater with a smile as he followed Lucas into the living room. "Sorry for imposing on you." He said a minute later as he scribbled down something on the parchment. I wouldn't have done so unless I feel it necessary. You needn't worry, I feel we are quite safe." At that moment however as though to dispute what he had said, there was a knock on the door even more ferocious than the one from a minute ago.
"We know you're in there Felix, you can't hide!" Said a taunting voice followed by a cackle of laughter.
Lucas spun round to face the man who was in their house. "Quick, you have to leave." He said, concerned for his wife's safety as well as that of the stranger. "Apparate away!" Felix closed his eyes in concentration for a moment before opening them with a grin expression upon his face. "This house has a ward preventing apparition." Lucas vaguely recalled when Albus Dumbledore had visited and said something about protective spells.
"Is there no other way to leave then?" Lucas asked desperately as the pounding on the doopr became heavier. Pretty soon they would probably knock it right of its hinges. "Cant you go invisible and sneak out?" He asked hopefully.
"No, no no!" Felix replied like a mad man. One, who can see his own death in the near future, often takes on such a frame of thinking. "You must hide me, please!"
Lucas shot a look at his wife, who stood at the far end of the living room, before turning to Felix.
"Very well in here." He said as he pulled open the under stairs cupboard. It wasn't the best hiding place in the world by any means, but the pattern on the wall meant that the door blended in some what. No sooner had Felix been pushed into the cupboard than the door unlocked itself, and three men, all rather wet, were revealed.
Lucas jumped away from the door to under the stairs as though he had been burned.
"Er Felix doesn't live here." He said as he tried to take on his best air of innocence. He would have been rather convincing, had the people he was lying to not been Death Eaters.
"Fear Not Muggle, We know that he is, and that he is hiding. We have no arguments with you however, so if you show him to us we will leave you in peace so you may return to your dinner." Said a man, whom we know as Lucius Malfoy.
Lucas took a step back hesitantly as the three intimidating figured robed in black, advanced into the hall way. One of them had the decency to close the door behind him.
"How can I trust you?" he asked them as he stumbled on a pair of shoes. "Even if this Felix were here, how do I know that you would not kill me should I show him to you?"
"Do not worry about that." Replied the second Death Eater. If we had wanted you and your wife dead then you would be already. Here." He continued as he handed Lucas three wands.
"Now we are both equal. No magic for either of us. Won't you please tell us, as this man has committed a great crime against us."
"But aren't you criminals yourself?" Michelle asked as she spoke for the first time. She could see the wands in her husbands hand were very real.
"Yes, I'm afraid we are so, but are we not also humans? This man who works at the ministry of magic, He killed our college in his sleep."
Lucas shifted uneasily as he continued back into the living room. These men seemed honest enough, but the tales that Hermione had told him, came flooding to mind.
"Is that not the sort of thing to be expected though being…criminals and everything." Lucas ventured as his heart raced in his chest. Although he had the wands it was still three large men against him.
"Yes, we accept that, and should that have been the end of it then we would have no more to say on the matter. No grudge would be held. However what this man did was far worse than that. As he crept into the bedroom, where our friend was sleeping, and killed him, our poor friends wife awoke. She was a simple muggle, and could do no harm, and yet he needlessly killed her aswell. They had a twelve year old son, who thankfully was at school at the time. However, to kill a boys mother, so needlessly, is not something that we "Criminals" can tolerate. Do you understand?"
Lucas stood rooted to the spot, as though his feet were pointed to the floor, before replying softly. "He is in there." Lucas was not normally a man to hand over one of the good guys to one of the bad guys, but when the good guy, seemed more evil than the bad guys, and his wife was in danger, then he acted accordingly.
The Death Eaters turned to the cupboard under the stairs, where suddenly Felix sprung from, an expression of burning rage upon his face. The Death Eaters were taken back by this sudden appearance, and so were not immediately ready to deal with the situation. Not to mention their wands were still in Lucas' hand, whilst Felix had his ready to use.
"You filthy traitor." Felix screamed. "You dirty filthy scum, how could you?" There was a moment of guilt as Lucas considered the fate of this man, but it was removed almost instantly, as Felix jumped forward, opened his mouth and uttered two deadly words which he hadn't heard until that point.
"Avada Kedavra."
Lucas turned his head, as though in slow motion, and saw his wife's eyes widen, before she opened her mouth to say something. The words never escaped her lips, as by that point she was already dead. He body crumbled to the floor, lifeless, like a puppet cut from its strings. In the next instant the three Death Eaters had pounced on Felix, and had him stunned and binded. He was to be killed later.
"My wife…" Lucas managed to mutter in a rasp voice. "Although he had no real way of knowing, he knew she was dead, in the way that only a husband could."
"I'm afraid there is nothing that can be done for her." Said the third Death Eater who hadn't spoken up till that point. He hadn't been introduced, but looking into his eyes, Lucas knew that it was Voldemort. "And they say that we are the monsters. If only I had been faster, I could have saved her." Voldemort said in an amazing show of acting as he shook with what seemed to be suppressed rage.
Lucas would have replied, but words escaped him. He was like a man who had learned the true meaning of life. Everything he believed in had come crashing down around him, and now his brain was struggling to keep up with the cataclysmic changes that would follow. Voldemort spoke some more, in soft suggestive tones which Lucas only heard in his subconscious mind.
Voldemort and the other two Death Eaters went to make their leave, with Felix slung over Lucius' shoulder. It was at this moment, that Lucas said something, which although he didn't regret, he should have. He gave one more look at his wife, lying dead, on the floor, before uttering so quietly he barely heard himself.
"Let me join you."
And so that was how it was. Felix was a member of the Death Eaters, who had been wishing to retire, and was granted it on this condition. Lucas knew nothing of this of course. And so twenty four hours later he was initiated as the first ever muggle Death Eater.
"The ministry is corrupt you see." It had been explained to him. "Everyone simply accepts that it is us that are in the wrong, but they never consider the very foundations of magical society have become rotten, and we are trying to turn about this, to unite the magical world, to form a new Empire. Mainly he was just given jobs to tell all that he knew of Harry, and what he was up to. Hermione did talk about him rather a lot to her parents.
Then one day Voldemort had approached him with a question.
"Your daughter is good friends with Harry Potter isn't she?" He had asked.
"You know she is, that is how I know what little I do about his goings on, which you value so highly."
"Mmm indeed." The dark lord said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But she is just that isn't she? She is just his friend?"
"Why?" Lucas asked hesitantly. Although he never looked at the dark lord's eyes, finding them uncomfortable, they were particularly unpleasant now.
"Well it's just that if Harry had feelings of…love" He said with traceable amount of disgust. "For her, then perhaps we could execute them to our advantage."
"In one way." Lucas asked though gritted teeth. "I don't see it would make a difference.
"Oh I do." Voldemort said honestly. "You see friends come and go, they are nice, but they aren't essential though. Love on the other hand. Its something some people would literally die for, wouldn't you say."
"Are you suggesting." Lucas began before Voldemort suddenly interrupted, without his innocent air about him anymore."
"What I am saying, Lucas, is that I believe your daughter can be used to our advantage. Given that you help us I have left your daughter for now, but should she ever develop feelings for Harry Potter, and should he reciprocate them, then I'm afraid she would be a little to useful to pass up."
Lucas glowered at the dark lord for as long as his nerve could hold. He had realised this may one day happen, but thankfully it seemed the dark lord had imposed a limit he did not think himself lucky enough to have. As Long as Harry Potter didn't love his daughter, she could live.
"Very well." He stated. He knew what he must do.
"Splendid." Voldemort replied as he rose form his seat and shook Lucas' hand. The Dark Lord had very cold pale hands, like that of a corpse.
"I shall be waiting anxiously for the sound of wedding bells. Love is a disease my friend. Only when one truly loves, is he at his weakest. That is when I shall strike Harry Potter down."
"Will that be all?" Lucas asked stiffly. Harry had sounded quite nice, according to his daughter.
"Yes that will be all for now, except one final bit of advice before you leave, my friend."
"And what might that be?"
"That you welcome Harry Potter. A father is rather influential, and I don't want you scaring him away…"
Back in present day Lucas had finished his glass of red wine. He placed the glass down on the coffee table, before turning off the television, which was showing a gardening program. It was a good job Bellatrix was not quiet as sharp on the uptake as their late master.