Violent Deliverance

Chapter One:

"Violent, you're following Snape," said Lucius from his position at the head of the table. "Aim to kill."

I was sitting on Lucius Malfoy's left, between him and Draco, and listening intently to the next item on the list of Barbaric Things I Never Want to Tell My Children About. This time, it was capturing Harry Potter and possibly torturing him also. But that basically went without saying.

"Whatever," I muttered. But Draco's father ignored me. As always.

I was sick of being ignored. I was sick of always being tired. I was sick of always feeling alone. I was sick of it all. And now, with this plan hanging over my head, I actually felt physically nauseous.

"When are we leaving?" I heard someone ask.

"In about fifteen minutes," replied Lucius, an evil grin lighting his features. "So I suggest you all get ready."

I stood up first and stormed out of the enormous dining hall. Yes, the Malfoys called their spacious eating area a 'dining hall'. So posh. It seemed I was doing a lot of storming these days. According to Draco (my sort-of depending-on-my-mood boyfriend), I enjoyed the tension it released. I showed him a different way to relieve tension...

Kidding! I'm no Pansy. I was totally talking about my flying skills. Yeah, I could have made the house team, if I could stand to be within a ten meter radius of Harry Pooper without dying from exposure to nuclear material. And yes, I classify Potter's body odour as nuclear material. Can you imagine sharing a changing room with The Boy Who Smells? I made my way to the broom cupboard in the third hall (yeah, they have that many that they have to number them) and wrenched the door open.

"Good evening, Violent," I turned and smiled at the source of the intrusion. Severus Snape was standing a meter away from me, shrouded in black. Surprise, surprise.

"Why, good evening, professor!" I replied with false gusto. He picked up on my sarcasm, but said nothing and simply reached past me for a broom. "Can I help you?"

Snape held up what appeared to be a silver sheet of metal. It reflected the flickering light in the hall and made my eyes flicker with the movement. "You left in such a hurry, you forgot your mask."

He handed me what was not a sheet of silver metal, but a silver mask, pounded into the imprint of a skull. Cool. Bitch Violent to Traitor Violent to Goth Violent. What next?

I slipped it into the pocket of my ebony robe. I nodded my thanks to him and he handed me the broom he had selected. A sleek looking Nimbus Two Thousand and Five. I noticed that he didn't take one himself. Of course, Snape was way too cool to fly on a common broom stick...

"Are you ready?" asked Snape.

I shot him The Look. Yeah, I'd come to label it. It's a mixture between a glare and scowl and I'm told it's quite frightening.

Snape said nothing, except he indicated that I was to follow him. Was I ready? He had asked. Answer is no. I was not ready. I doubt I would ever be ready for this.

I pulled the mask over my face, hiding once again.

~xox~

"To the left!" my greasy haired partner shouted. I leaned my weight in the direction Snape told me, following on the tail of Harry Potter's broom.

The night was alight with curses and jets of light. There were yells of confusion and screams of pain as the bursts of magic hit its victims. I could see people falling from their brooms, plummeting like shot pigeons to the ground.

"There!" shrieked Snape. He was pointing at a figure, barely metres ahead of me. I could barely see; the light in the sky was blinding.

I manage to make out two figures on brooms: Potter and Professor Lupin.

No. Please. No more death...

"Kill Lupin, Violent!" screamed Snape, the distress evident in the deep lines in his pallid face.

"No!" I shouted back, my voice carrying on the wind. "There's no need!"

Snape growled his frustration and raised his wand. I shut my eyes, not able to bear another murder.

"Sectumsempra!" he cried.

That wasn't a killing spell, I thought, my hope rising once more.

Please escape, Potter. I can't kill you.

I heard a yell of pain, and the duo of Potter and Lupin began a steep descent towards the ground. I pulled back, though Snape seemed intent on going faster. His business, I reminded myself.

This is like a repeat of my entire summer. I murdered someone last month. A young wizard, couldn't have been more than thirty. Voldemort sent me, along with Bellatrix, for some target practise .It was self-defence, too. Bellatrix mysteriously 'forgot' to restrain him and the man attempted to disarm me. In truth, I had only tried to crucio him, but the spell didn't work – damn my magical retardation – and came out as a killing curse. He was a ministry worker, and the Dark Lord needed him disposed of. I act like it's no big deal, especially around the others, but I'm disgusted. I don't want to kill more people. But I know that I'll probably have to.

I don't want this.

~xox~

"You killed George Weasley!" I screamed at him as I leapt off my broom on a deserted street in the middle of the night in Surrey, London. "You're a psychopath!"

Severus Snape flew, yes, I said flew, to the ground, surveying me with distaste and mild disgust.

"Don't look at me like that," I snapped.

"You need to make it look real," he said silkily. It sounded like a threat.

"What? By murdering my schoolmates? Sorry, I'm just not that real."

Snape eyed me as I stalked off down the deserted street. He followed, keeping on my heels, his black cloak all but blending into the shadow of the night. The glinting silver mask that twirled from his fingertips was the only source of colour I could detect, other than the pallid skin of his face and hands.

"If you are not believable," he murmured softly. "Then the Dark Lord will kill you."

I rolled my eyes and walked faster. "Gee, because I haven't wanted that all summer."

Snape cursed. I smiled dully. "Your new-found suicidal tendencies need to be put aside. You can't think like that."

I laughed out loud. "Serious? Every choice I make will end in me dying. Every choice I don't make ends in me dying. On top of that, everyone around me, even you, keeps telling me that I'm going to be murdered sooner rather than later if I don't follow the rules. And just think of how many people want me dead, hm. I'm liking my chances. Excuse me if a peaceful, calm death sounded like a pretty good idea after the one person who could protect me – Dumbledore - got killed. By you, I might add."

I'm not sure I was really trying to kill myself that night. I just... stepped off the roof of the tower at Malfoy Manor. I would have introduced myself to the well-manicured lawn, had Lucius not seen me, er, jump, and magically broke my fall. Bastard.

But really. I hadn't even thought about death, or the ease of suicide. I just wanted to know what it felt like to fall. To just focus on the air rushing past me.

Draco was furious. If his mother hadn't pulled him off, he would have throttled me to death. No kidding.

"Violent..."

"Yeah, I know, alright. I know what you all expect me to do. It's just... I can't kill anyone, okay? I can't hurt people like you can, just for the sake of playing a part," I explained as the hook nosed man fell into step beside me. "It's not right."

"Go home, Violent. I'll deal with the others. Well, the ones that saw your strange behaviour, anyway."

I shook my head. "Not going back there," I said forcefully. Malfoy Manor was not a happy place at the moment. Lucius was out of prison, Narcissa was hiding from her husband in the library and Draco was in a strop, dealing with his daddy-issues. And Miriam-Rose, my used-to-be-sweet half sister, had been introduced to the art of clubbing the house elves with her new Morgana doll. I suspect Draco taught her that.

Snape's face darkened, he straightened, visibly preparing for an argument. "Oh? And where are you going then? Seeing as you have to be at Kings Cross to get on the Hogwarts Express at precisely eleven o'clock in six day's time."

I shrugged. "I'll make the train, don't worry."

"Where are you going? Violent?" He pulled me back with a rough hand on my shoulder. I snarled and peeled his claw-like hand off my cloak. I released his hand with a low, guttural growl.

"I have to speak to Professor Lupin."

Snape's eyes widened. 'No. You can't –"

I groaned and turned back to face him. "I'm good at Occlumency, Snape. I have been since I was eleven. How the bloody hell do you think I survived so long, huh? I've met with Voldemort three times since you murdered Dumbledore and he still hasn't killed me. I think I can keep the secret, and I hope that you can, Severus. I need to see Lupin."

"But, we haven't planned or anything," said Snape, back peddling. "We need to work out what to do. Albus –"

"Is dead. And I have tried to plan with you but you keep brushing me off, Severus."

"Violent, you need to wait. I need you to wait."

I sighed and shook my head. "I can't wait forever Severus. I can't wait for you to rediscover your morals – or your balls - and I can't wait for you to help me. I can't wait. I'm going to see Lupin."

"Where? They're not using the old safe house anymore."

"I'll figure it out."

Snape's earnest expression turned into the sneer. At least I was used to it. "How? What spell will you use, Violent? You're practically a squib."

"Fuck off, Severus. I said I'd figure it out, okay? Now leave me alone."

He swore and stormed off. Had I not turned and kept walking, I would have seen him leap into the air in a cloud of black smoke and robes.

~xox~

Yeah. A wedding of Weasels is not the occasion I would willingly choose to crash. Except that's exactly what I did.

Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. The Veela and the Carrot-top; adorable. Or vomit-worthy.

I spent most of the week cooped up in a gothic muggle tavern, waiting until the set date to re-emerge as 'Cousin Madeleine', a distant Delacour relative. I'm not lying when I say the little inn was gothic. The pattern on my bedspread was a bunch of nooses and the people all wore black. Black clothes, black hair and black makeup. Their piercings were many and varied and I got to inspect some guy's tattoo; a picture of a man bleeding to death quite painfully.

And I thought I was fucked up.

You might ask how someone as magically retarded as myself could get into a top security wedding. Well, I didn't screw the bouncer, for starters. I simply transfigured my face into that of a twenty-year-old buxom blonde woman and stole someone's invitation. Simple as. McGonagall would be so proud, excluding the fact that I was now a traitor with a price on my head.

I ignored the happy wedding attendees and sought only to find Remus Lupin. I didn't quite know what I was going to say to him, or how I was going to get him to listen to me without calling in the aurors. In fact, I was pretty sure he'd freak out when I removed my disguise and showed myself to him. I don't think Professor Lupin saw me as his favourite student. Not by a long shot. But then again, he loved Harry more than Dumbledore, so I didn't like him so much either.

The ceremony was dull, the dress was ... white, the groom was ugly. I was bored out of my brain.

I swear, if I ever get married – cough unlikely cough – I would so do something to liven up the atmosphere. Like, blow up something. Make the celebrant cry... or better yet, make the groom cry.

Finally, after a good ten minutes of searching following the tedious vows, my eyes landed on Lupin and his pink haired, werewolf-loving fiancé standing at the back of the marquee. I started to make my way over to them. Everyone was starting to leave their seats. I hoped it wouldn't be conspicuous if I just walked down the aisle and dragged him off.

Yeah. I was going to be relying on physical strength rather than magical skill. Because, er, I had little in the latter. Mentally pumping myself up, I stood and began to walk towards my sandy haired guardian. The woman called Nymphadora Tonks saw me first and nudged her fiancé. Lupin looked at me.

"Mr Lupin," I said, trying to cover my voice. I hadn't counted on being recognised and hadn't charmed my voice. Not that I was capable of it anyway. "Might I have a quick word in private?"

Lupin frowned. "Uh, who are you?"

"Mademoiselle François-Delacour. But you may call me Madeleine."

I have to say, I was extremely proud of the French accent I put on. A week's worth of practising in front of the bathroom mirror had honed it to almost perfection.

"About?"

Suspicious much? Oh well, I suppose he did have good reason. We had been picking off Order members all through summer.

"Oh... nothing in particular. I have, er, a message to deliver."

"From?"

I almost, almost rolled my eyes. Wasn't I making him curious enough to follow me? Could he just quit with the one-word questions? For, like, a minute?

"Someone you would be extremely interested to hear from. And no doubt surprised also. Please, I really do not have much time."

The pink haired woman whispered something. It sounded negative. I threw her a glare, just for good measure.

Damn, she didn't see...

"Alright," said Lupin after a few moments hesitation. "But just over there, okay?"

I beamed at him, surprised at my own ability to create such a wide, convincing smile after... well after the summer from hell. "Thanks!"

He led me out of the marquee, to the fringe of the garden. I could feel the watchful gaze of his somewhat annoying fiancé on my back as we left her there.

"So, who's the message from?"

I hesitated. Here we go. The point of no return. "Would you mind throwing up a muffliato or something? It is extremely private."

He shrugged and performed a non-verbal spell. Phew, glad he didn't ask why I couldn't do it myself.

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm not Madeleine Delacour. I used to be a student of yours. Violent Faithe."

Lupin's open, kind face, twisted into a frown. "Yes, I remember you."

I still look like a z-cup blonde though? Wow, maybe Lupin goes for hookers...

Sighing inwardly, I blurted out, "You're my guardian."

Lupin froze. "You're Callista's kid?"

I nodded.

He sandy haired werewolf swore. "I got a letter. I'm so sorry, Violent."

I wondered if he had a clue who my dad was. Then he'd really be sorry.

"Whatever. Anyway, I –"

Pain.

Left arm.

Fire.

Agony.

My right hand reached for my Mark, my fingernails scrabbling at it, trying desperately to ease the sudden burst of pain.

In my head rang the words, The ministry has fallen.

"Shit," I moaned. It wasn't meant to be this soon. The plan had been to take down Scrimgeour on Thursday. Fuck!

"What is it?" asked Lupin in genuine concern. I don't think he noticed me cradling my left arm. Had he been switched on, it would have been a dead giveaway.

I took a deep breath. "I don't have time. Voldemort just took the ministry. Is Potter here? Yes? Get him out. Now. Evacuate. They're coming."

"What the hell, Violent?" he demanded. "Slow down."

Gasping in fear, I muttered to myself, "Can't be seen here... Get out, get out."

"Why can't you be seen here? Are you really a –"

"Death Eater? Yep. I have to go. Can I write you another time and meet up? I have a message from Dumbledore."

Lupin's eyes widened still further. "But –"

"Yeah, he's dead, trust me, I know. I may be a traitor, but I can still be useful, Remus."

He nodded. "Write me. Now, get out, quick."

"I'm off. Thank you. Please don't tell anyone. You have a traitor amongst you as well."

"Who?"

"I haven't been told. Also –"

Suddenly there was havoc in the main garden. A patronus appeared, apparently delivered a message (I already knew that it would be giving the news about the ministry) and there was mass-panic. People where running everywhere.

My breath ragged, I continued quickly, trying to pass on most of the important information, "Also, Hogwarts is going to be different. Snape's going to be Headmaster, The Dark Lord just decided. I have to go."

And that was it. I turned around and bolted from the garden. On the way, I grabbed one of the emergency port-keys that were being handed out for evacuation purposes. Shit, they hadn't left anything to chance.

The familiar feeling of losing half your body in a swirl of confusion and uncertainty overwhelmed me once more. I landed in a pile of dirt in...

I looked around, trying to find a street sign, the barest hint of information as to where I was.

Sighing, I turned and began meandering aimlessly down the street.

Fuck, that went well.

I groaned and reached into my pocket for the fake galleon I kept there. Although outwardly, Snape and I despised the Mudblood, the communication system for their little DA club was pretty useful. Snape agreed that we could use it – after mumbling and grumbling – to contact each other. I tapped my wand against the smooth golden surface and felt it heat up in my hand. Somewhere, Snape's was doing the same thing.

We had modified Granger's design, so that Snape could apparate directly to me, considering I had never taken my test. I probably should learn, eh? Actually, I didn't want the disappointment of not being able to apparate – yet another item to add to the list of Things I Cannot Do and Have No Hope of Achieving. It's getting pretty long.

I felt a rush of air beside me as Snape apparated.

"Ahh, the prodigal returns..."

I grinned. "Prodigal? I haven't come back just yet."

"Are you going to the Malfoy's? The Carrows are there for dinner."

My less-than-satisfactory grin fell into a frown. "In that case... just take me to Kings Cross. It's only a few hours to morning anyway. The train leaves at eleven."

"And your belongings?"

"What belongings?" I responded with a grimace. "Narcissa burned all my clothes. Draco will bring my stuff."

Snape shrugged, grabbing my arm, side-along apparating me to Kings Cross Station. I thanked him and he turned to leave. He turned back around though, just before he disapparated.

"And by the way, Violent," he sneered. "You look like a gothic prostitute in that guise."

Pop. He disapparated. What a bitch. He calls me a whore and runs away. Classy.

I sighed and began wandering aimlessly along the empty platforms. It's not like I was in a hurry. I was silently panicking over the fact that I had never bothered to teach myself how to return to my regular looks. Sigh. Oh well, Draco could fix me up in a few hours when he gets here. Snape would no doubt mention that I look like a skank, just for kicks.

I sat down on an empty bench between platforms nine and ten and hoped that my rather provocative new form garnered no more attention than I strictly wanted.

~xox~

I woke to the sound of a train whistle and the rush of muggles hurrying to work. A gentle arm was shaking my shoulder. I stared blearily until the pale, pointed face I knew so well came into focus.

"Rise and shine, Violent," he grinned down at me. "The sun is out, the birds are chirping –"

"Fuck off..." I grumbled. My sleeping patterns were all screwed up. Usually I woke at dawn every morning. Lately I had been sleeping in, just so I didn't have to face people.

"Snape said you looked like a stripper on some sort of narcotics, what, with that crazed look you always have in your eyes," he sniggered. "I hadn't counted on him being right."

"Leave me alone," I moaned. "Wait, I take that back. You can fix the spell. I don't know how."

He shrugged. "Sure, but only on the platform, okay?"

I rolled my makeup-smudged eyes. "Well, duh. Muggles, remember?"

He smiled. "No need to worry about ministry laws anymore, Violent. My dad pretty much owns it now."

"Brag, much?" I muttered as he led me through the stone wall that led to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. "Did you bring my things?"

"What's left of them. Yeah, they're already loaded on the train. Here," he said, pushing me towards the bathrooms on the far left. "We can switch you around in there."

I leaned against the dirty – like I cared – white tiled wall as Draco flicked his wand at me. I felt a shivery, chill feeling run up my spin and I raised my hands to double check. Yep, long, deathly straight blue-black hair, long fingered pale hands, teeth a tad smaller. Back to me. Except...

"Draco Malfoy, you return my tits their normal size right now!"

He groaned and swished his wand. No, not that wand; the wooden one. Heh. Oh yeah, and over the summer I had a spiffing competition of Best Dirty Jokes with Rodolphus. I won, of course. And the habit had stayed...

We exited the bathroom and pushed our way through the somewhat smaller crowd of pulsing students and their families. Unlike every other year, the atmosphere on the platform today was tense. Parents were worried, now that Dumbledore had been killed, that the Ministry had fallen, that their children were no longer safe.

It happened as I was thinking this; the tugging of the sleeve, and the voice of a young child. "Mummy, aren't they the people who killed Professor Dumblydore?"

My guts constricted, Draco flinched beside me. Suddenly the cry of "Death Eater scum!" was travelling over the platform. Someone threw a rock at me. It glanced painfully off my cheekbone. Draco clasped my elbow and jolted me forward and up the steps of the train. He pushed me along and shoved me into an empty compartment. Well, it wasn't empty, but he kicked the First Years out.

"Ignore them," he said forcefully, sitting down beside me. He reached across and rubbed the blood off my face with his sleeve. I hadn't realised that the rock had made me bleed. I probably would have been worried about scarring or whatever, but I knew I was unlikely to live long enough to thoroughly enjoy my looks anyway, so what the hell.

I had forgotten about what people would say to me at school. I had spent the entire summer stressing about returning, that when the day actually came, I completely forgot. I sighed. And that was nothing to what my schoolmates (well, my used-to-be schoolmates) would say when they found me.

"Just ignore them," Draco repeated, sensing my distress.

I wish it were that simple...

AN: GAH!!! Check it! It's the sequel! I've been talking about it and getting your hopes up forEVER and now it's finally here!

Yes, feel free to congratulate me... haha

Hmm interesting things are set to happen at Hogwarts this year... Whose side is Snape really on? Poor Teagan? What will she think of Violent as a traitor, after a whole summer to brood over the loss of her now-evil (?) best friend? Not to mention what every other student, excluding the Slytherins, thinks of her now. Oh, and you might not remember this from the books but the Carrows are teachers at Hogwarts this year. What fun for poor Violent!

I'm so excited. Seriously, I think I might be a sadist. If you knew all the horrible decisions and scenes I have planned for her...

xxx Please review!!