Chapter 1: The Beginning

It only takes one bad day. One moment in time that erases all of your morals. All of your values. And turns you into something unrecognizable. There is an anger that spreads through you, like poison. And though a million things are running through your head—you still have to decide what to do with that anger. And you must do it before the darkness takes over. Or your life no longer belongs to you.

All it takes is one bad day.

Four years ago…

I come to. For a moment, everything is dark and blurry—but I can tell I am somewhere unfamiliar. There is a small flickering light above, only allowing me to see so much. I try to move my hands, and it is then I realize that my hands are chained together. I notice that my feet are barely touching the ground, I feel the aching in my arms. I've been here for some time.

My eyesight finally focuses, and from the sight in front of me—I remember exactly how I got here. An anger—a monstrous, untamed anger is ignited. I can feel it burning under my skin.

"Astoria!" I scream, but she doesn't answer. She sits in the chair across from where I am standing. I can't see her face, only her ragged blonde hair which shades her. Her red dress is torn in several places—I can see the purple stain of bruises on her skin. What did they do to her while I was unconscious?

"ASTORIA!" I scream again, this time louder. I can feel the room vibrate at the sound of my voice. I try to break the chains holding me back from her, but they are stronger than I am. I pull again, but they do not budge. But in this moment, I won't deny that I am helpless.

The next sound I hear is the voice of man. A man whose very existence brings nothing but plague and utter dismay. A man I once saw as a friend, but now he means nothing to me. He is dead to me. Yet the sound of his voice is as real as it's always been. The ghost who has come to haunt me.

Theodore Nott.

"Draco, Draco." He teases, stepping into the room as if he is Salazar himself. He is brave enough to walk in alone because I am chained to his wall. He knows if I get free I will kill him. But I can't get free. He's going to kill me.

"I wouldn't worry about her." He continues. "I would be more worried about you." He then proceeds to walk towards her, running his fingers through her hair. I immediately react, forgetting that I'm chained up.

"Don't touch her!" The sound of the chains echo through the room—making the moment sweeter for this man I hated. I watch him pull out his wand—thirteen inch, black walnut, dragon heartstring. He walks towards me, a childish glint in his eyes. He's been waiting for this moment.

"I told you what would happen, Malfoy." He says. "If you continued to interfere with my work. Potter, out of all people, got the message. But you…you just couldn't mind your fucking business."

The next sound was my agonizing screams. Nott cast the cruciatus curse—my skin felt like fire, I felt like a million needles were being rammed through my bones. My legs grew weak, but I couldn't fall. As much as I wanted to fight back, I couldn't. But even when the curse subsided, I still denied the fact that I was losing.

"So what is this? A temper tantrum, Nott?" I retort. I hoped that my words would anger him more, get him off his game. But he doesn't react, he only smiles wider.

"Even when you're at your losses, you still have to have the last word." He chuckles. "And that—is what makes this moment even greater than what it is."

The tip of his wand glowed a deadly green. I knew that this was the end. He was going to kill me. There was so much I wanted to say. To Nott. To Astoria. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for dragging her into this. I wanted to tell her to be strong when I'm gone. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. That I was fine leaving this world knowing that she had loved me for who I was. But she would never know.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the curse to strike. But as I heard the words leave his mouth, I still felt my heart beating with regret and fear. It all felt as real as if I was still alive. The weight of the world still weighed on my shoulders. And that's when I realized. I hadn't closed my eyes at all.

"NOOOOOOO!" I roared. There she sat, motionless. "ASTORIA! ASTORIAAAA!" But I know she won't answer me.

This time I can't feel my legs. My heart hurts—and it continues to shatter as I stare. He was supposed to kill me. I thought he was going to kill me. The tears burn my skin, but I cannot stop them. The anger in me boils to a new level. I cannot run to her. I cannot hold her for the last time. Here I am, chained to this wall—trapped in this room, with my dead wife.

"THEODORE!" I scream. "THEODORE!"

But he is gone. And so is she.

Present Day.

Masked Vigilante Strikes Again: Ollivander's Saved

Seamus Finnegan throws today's Prophet on my desk. He's grown fascinated with the so called "vigilante" and I seem to be the only one in the department who holds his same interest. We've been at it for the past couple years—ever since the vigilante made his first appearance in Diagon Alley. He saved Seamus during a hostage situation—I was knocked out cold in the lobby of Gringotts and had to hear the exciting story afterwards.

"Ollivander said it happened so quick," He says excitedly. "He forgot he was being robbed."

I picked up the prophet, skimming the contents. "He says they were trying to steal blueprints? Why not take the wands themselves?"

Seamus shrugs. "I dunno. But word is it's the same people who tried to pull a fast one on Grigorovitch."

"So they're going after wand makers?" I say, confused. "What benefit would they have doing that when could they could just force Ollivander or Gregorovitch to make them one?"

"Same question the boss asked."

I continue to read the paper, but something tells me to look up. And as I do, that something has my eyes locked on her. Hermione Granger. One of the top specialists for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. As usual, she walks with a sense of purpose—her hands full of file folders and loose sheets of parchment. And as usual, she doesn't notice me staring at her.

"She just broke things off with Weasley," I hear Seamus say. "This would be a perfect time—"

"No." I respond immediately. "I'm not…she needs her space."

"Oh, come on Draco. I've watched you miserably fancy her since forever, even more since she's moved to our floor. This is your chance."

I thought about it, and Seamus was right. This is the perfect time. But fate had other plans.

"Malfoy! Finnegan!" The words came from our boss. The head of the Auror Department. Harry Potter. There were years where I hated him, truly hated him. But after what happened with Astoria, we made amends. He was the only one who was there for me.

He opened the door to his office. "In here."

Seamus and I make our way towards Potter's office. It's an office I've been in many times—for multiple reasons. I wasn't always the best Auror in the department—I've had my set of mishaps. And when I became partners with Seamus, it got even worse. We weren't always the best of pals. I've broken his nose a few times—more than I care to remember.

We sat down in the chairs across from him, and I could tell that Potter had his hands full with something. His desk was covered in papers and crumbled up memos. If I had to guess, it had something to do with the Wand Shop robberies. No one knew exactly how to handle it. There hadn't been an attack on Ollivander's since the second wizarding war—ten years ago.

"You seem to have your work cut out for you, eh Potter?" says Seamus.

Harry shakes his head, and I can tell he's tired. "More than I can admit. There's too much going on at one time. The attacks on the wand shops, the random genetically engineered creatures that are popping up, and this damn vigilante."

So, that's why Granger is so busy. I think to myself. That's probably the reason Kingsley had her moved to our floor. The Minister probably thought these incidents were all connected.

"Is that why Granger's moved to our floor?" I ask. "The Minister thinks these events are all connected?"

"I moved Hermione down to our floor." Responds Harry. "Kingsley doesn't think the events are connected, but I have a…feeling that they are."

Seamus crosses his legs. "What sparked that feeling?"

At Seamus's question, I notice Harry's face transforms into a frown. Something deeper and darker than a frown. A nauseating feeling rises in my stomach—he is staring right at me. He's trying not to, but I don't think he can help it. I think all of this has something to do with me.

Harry pulls out a portfolio from out of the stack of parchment on his desk. That feeling a nausea hardens into a rock—I know that portfolio. It belongs to Theodore Nott—the man who killed my wife.

"A couple days ago, the guards at Azkaban discovered that Nott has been sending outside messages through an unknown source. The last message he sent out occurred on the same night Gregorovitch was attacked."

"And you think he has something to do with it?" Seamus asks.

The other wizard sighs. "I don't know what to think. Nott's been in Azkaban for the last four years—and I just can't help but think…"

I know what he's thinking. After he murdered Astoria, we caught Theodore Nott. Well, Harry and group of Aurors did. I wasn't allowed to join the party—for Nott's sake. I would've killed him. Even now, I still dream of walking into Azkaban and ending him. But those four years ago, after we caught Nott, the Vigilante appeared.

"You think his unknown source is the Vigilante?" I ask. As outrageous as it sounds, it's Potter's job to think of the outrageous. After everything he's been through, no feeling is a bad feeling. And no crazy idea is actually crazy. We live in a world where people use wands to fight instead of fists.

Seamus scoffs. Like I said, he is a hardcore Vigilante fan. "There's no way the Vigilante is working with Theodore Nott. He saved Gregorovitch."

"Because maybe Nott wanted him to," I respond, feeding into Harry's suspicions. "Gregorovitch used to make wands for Nott's grandfather—who would then pass those wands down to his sons, who would pass it down to theirs."

"So what? Nott got word that some blokes were going to attack Gregorovitch and he sends the Vigilante? That's barmy."

"Nothing is barmy, Finnegan." Harry says. "But this is a start—"

"Nott's a criminal!" Seamus argues.

I cross my arms. "So is the Vigilante."

"Draco, you can't honestly believe—"

"He assaulted an Auror last week, Seamus. Almost killed him." I sound more disappointed than serious. As if the Vigilante's actions are my actions. "He has no regard for magical law enforcement, and that makes him no better than Nott or anyone else we've put in Azkaban."

I look at Seamus, and he gives me a cryptic look. He wants to chew a new hole in my you-no-where, but he stays silent. He knows there is always a method to my madness—even if he hates it. But nonetheless, he doesn't argue back.

"Malfoy's right." Harry says, flipping through another stack of parchment. "I can't deny, Seamus, that the Vigilante is doing some good—but he's operating as if he's judge, jury, and executioner. That's what the Ministry is for."

I nod, agreeing and disagreeing at the same time. During my years at Hogwarts, my father worked at the Ministry. Though everyone believed the Ministry was doing the best for the wizarding community, everyone had their own agenda. Everyone—no matter their position—played judge, jury, and executioner. Just like the Ministry, the Vigilante has his own agenda. The Vigilante does the things Potter can't—goes to places that we can't. I can tell that Potter supports his actions, but he has to follow the rules—something he hasn't done in a long time.

"Okay," Seamus finally let go of his Vigilante rant. "What do you need us for?"

Harry looks up from his parchment. "I want you two on this case—working with Hermione. Kingsley won't let me open a full investigation, but that doesn't mean I can't already have my foot in the door."

I smirk. I guess it would be against Potter's nature if he didn't at least break one rule. "And you need us to be your keys?"

Potter chuckles. "More like crowbars."

I leave work late. I gather as much information as I can about the Vigilante and what is known about Nott's outside source. The parchment that the guards found was blank—meaning that it was an encrypted message. I know what will happen if I share this information with Potter. He'll think it's enchanted, like Voldemort's diary. Or he might think it unlocks with some special phrase like the Marauder's Map. Though they would be possibilities, Nott isn't that simple—he uses his magic in different ways. I should know.

"Leaving late as well?"

I look up from my files and it feels like the world has gone dark and a light has lit on the just the two of us. I shake my head and the light comes back on. But she is still standing there, her eyebrow furrowed—her arms full of books and parchment. I get a grip on myself. It's 9:45pm—I'm late.

"Yeah," I say, gathering up my files as well. "I'm actually supposed to meeting Seamus at the Manor."

I get up to leave, and like I expected—she follows me. Not that I mind, this is the first time we've spoken since Astoria—and I guess her first time since what happened with Weasley. I'm curious to ask, but I won't.

"To work on the case?" She asks, curious as well.

"Uh no." Yes. I lie. It should have felt natural, but it felt so wrong. To lie to her, but I'm already late and there are too many questions that I don't have answers to.

"Seamus bought some Muggle Picture Box in London, we're supposed to be enchanting it to watch the Quidditch game tonight." I smirk. "Don't worry, Granger, it isn't against the law."

I catch her smile, and I hate myself for not staying to talk more. I hate myself for not sparking any other interesting conversations- something that would lead to me asking her to dinner. Or inviting her over to work on the case. But I made a promise to someone—and I don't want to hurt her.

"Catch you tomorrow, yeah?" I finally say.

She smirks. "You know where to find me."

Where did Hermione Granger go after that? I didn't stick around to check. I headed towards the floo, where I pick my destination. Malfoy Manor. I can already feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins—as if this is the first time. I take a deep breath, remembering my past mistakes and focusing on tonight's mission.

As the green flames disappear, Seamus is waiting for me down in the dungeons. I take no time to look around the Manor, it hasn't been the same in a while. It's empty and lifeless—I never walk around it anymore. I stay hidden in the dungeons, where I am literally imprisoned by my thoughts and regrets. It is to remind me of my promise.

I reach the final steps and I can see the glow from Muggle television I bought from that pawn shop in Surrey. Yes, I lied to Granger about the television, but what good would have came out of it if I told her the truth? Seamus is half-blood, so making him the accused buyer made it all more practical for her to believe.

"Is it up?" I ask, stepping into the dungeons. For a moment, I stop and stare at the room. It isn't the cold and miserable dungeon it used to be—I've changed some things since my parents moved to Paris and left me the estate. For starters, I got rid of all the dungeons. It gave me more room for my other hobbies. And it gave Seamus the perfect idea to expand his office space.

"Almost." My partner replies. He flicks his wand and the television glows a bright blue. And then goes black, and then pops back on. Another flick, and the one television turns into four. What I am looking at now, is unbelievable.

"It's the whole map of-"

"Diagon Alley." I say through my admiration. What I am looking at now, is complete surveillance on every shop, pub, and street in Diagon Alley. This is a huge upgrade from the enchanted maps me and Seamus used to use. Muggle technology finally has its breakthrough in the wizarding world.

"And that's not all." Seamus says. "Watch this. Show me Gringotts Bank, Main Lobby."

Like a switch being flicked, the televisions switch to Gringotts's main lobby. I pat Seamus on his back—my way of commending him of his work. He takes his usual position in his chair, admiring his new setup, while I begin to get dressed. That is when Seamus begins our next conversation.

"So, are you going to tell me why you made the Vigilante seem like the anti-Christ in Potter's office?"

I pull on my boots. "You know why, Seamus. Potter needs to think we're like everyone else."

"Yeah," He says, but I know my answer doesn't satisfy him. "But really? He has no regard for magical law enforcement…he's no better than Nott…blah blah blah."

"You remember what happened last week? The Vigilante almost became enemy number one."

Seamus rolls his eyes. "It was one Auror, Draco. And it was Finch-Fletchley. He deserved it."

"No, he didn't." I tighten my gloves and conjure my hair black. "The Vigilante isn't supposed to be a menace, but we can't ignore his faults. He has to be better."

"What happened to stopping petty thefts and raiding Death Eater hideouts? I miss those days."

I laugh. "Those days ended a long time ago." I grabbed my final piece, placing it over my head. The only thing you can see now are my eyes. And even if my mask is removed, I made my hair black—remember?

Seamus hands me my "other" wand. "Our source from the bank says that the Nott's family vault is number 7618."

"Which is the deepest part of the bank," I nod. "And the most heavily guarded."

"I'll be watching from the screens, but once you get inside the vault—you're on your own."

I smirk, accepting the challenge. Whatever it took to keep Nott behind bars and to stop whatever this was from becoming something worse. Right now, I am now longer Draco Malfoy, a Class A Auror for the Ministry of Magic. I am something else.

"Nothing the Vigilante can't handle."

I step back into the floo, focusing all of my energy on the picture of Gringotts's Main Lobby. Before I disappear in the crowd of blue and red flames I hear Seamus's next words.

"And don't kill anyone!"

Hello Everyone. No, I have not abandoned Taken—I'm just taking time off to work up some new ideas. Taken Book 3 will continue shortly. But for now, enjoy!

~TheeStoryTeller