Disclaimer – Anything you recognise probably, in fact almost certainly, does not belong to me. However the plot and the character Hazel do. Unfortunately for me, her name does not.
Authors Note – This is a Draco Malfloy and the Dark Side centred story. Therefore Harry, Hermione and Ron will probably not make any appearances, and might not even be mentioned (although that's stretching it a tad). The pairing will be Draco/New Character. If any of this is not to your liking I say give it a try at least, you never know you might enjoy it.
Summary – On what seems like an ordinary Muggle-murdering mission, Draco Malfloy is tackled by an intriguing prospect. Read on my fellow readers, read on.
Tackled by an Intriguing Prospect.
Chapter One – Sea of Hooded Black
The windows shattered and the oak door caved in on its hinges, wood splintering as it hit the floor. Waves of the black sea poured in from the new openings, mixing with the colours. Some spots of black just appeared between the colours, one minute nothing and then suddenly black.
It was then that the screaming started. High-pitched, shrill, chilling screams. The screams of terror, the screams of death. The colours fell in heaps on the ground, collapsing in a sea of blues, whites, reds and greens as black washed over them. Bookcases toppled and books lay scattered as panic overtook.
The colour red lay still, one beady eye following the movements of a black as it strode, surveying its damage. It stopped, surveying its Kingdom, surveying its death.
The frantic child didn't see the tall black pole - tears blurred its vision. It ran straight into the black monsters leg, tumbling to the ground. The black hood shot down and if the face was visible the colour red was sure it would wear a look of disgust. It held up its hand, which gripped what could only be described as, well, a wand.
Red acted quickly. In a lightening flash she pulled herself from the ground and rammed into black. The force took red and black crashing into a wall, the colours mixing brutally. Black slammed against it first and its hood slipped slightly, revealing a lock of silvery hair. So strange and pure a colour to see in this hate.
Red and blacks eyes locked through his mask, grey on hazel. Something snapped and something connected. Hands tugged red backwards roughly but she fought. Those eyes meant something to her…
"Are you ok?" another black shape whispered to the silvery lock monster.
"Fine" he shot in a voice full of contempt. His eyes had not yet left red's hazel ones.
"Shall we take care of the mudblood" She knew it was directed at her, yet it meant nothing. If she kept looking into those eyes she would survive.
"No" he said thoughtfully. Then as if he needed to justify this to himself he added, "She interests me"
"She is a common mudblood Mal-"
"Are you questioning my decision" his voice rose in a dangerous tone. Red involuntary pulled back. The black on either side squeezed tighter, as if it gave them pleasure to leave bruising hand-marks on her bare arms.
"No, no" the black bowed as low as he could without brushing the floor.
"Give her here" he muttered, holding out his arm. She was thrust into it and he pulled her in tight towards his chest. She struggled against it but his hold was tight, crushing her to him. There was a pop and she shut her eyes tight, expecting heaven when she opened them. But she was dropped and she hit cold, stone floor, face first. She tasted blood.
"Turn over" the voice was cold. She didn't.
"Turn over" louder now.
"Turn over!" he roared grabbing her shoulder and throwing her onto her back. She gazed up into the white mask wondering what was behind it.
"Who or what are you?" he said, wonder appearing for the briefest of seconds in those eyes.
Red didn't know what to answer, "I'm, I'm Hazel," she said uncertainly.
"And you are a mudblood?" he said sitting down on a chair that appeared from no-where.
"I don't know what you mean" her voice came out pitifully small.
"Then you are." He sat still, contemplating her.
"A question in return then" she said, her face going white as she said it.
He jumped out of his thought and his body tensed in surprise. "Why not" he said, shrugging slightly, "What would you like to know?" he drawled.
"What, what are you?"
"Me. Well I'm a wizard and a Death Eater. Although that will mean nothing to you of course."
"Well explain it then" the bravery came from no-where.
He gave a small laugh, "That would take a lot of explaining, it is a story many years old containing many years itself"
"Well I guess I'm not going anywhere soon so why don't you tell me"
He laughed that dangerous laugh again, "I like your manner Hazel, your bravery. What made you stop me killing that mudblood spawn?"
"He was an innocent child" she whispered, "He had done nothing. What do you mean by mudblood?"
"A person of no magical descent" he replied shortly.
"What is wrong with that? It's not like they-"
"They are impure and un-worthy of magical training"
"Magical training?"
He huffed "I forget how much you muggle toys bore me. And how little you know of the worlds-"
"A toy" she shrieked, "You will not use me for any toy, I, I would rather die than be some perverted toy for some sick-"
His arm lashed out and smashed across her face sending her crashing into the stone again. She lay there trying not to whimper.
"You would do well to remember who has the power in this situation, Hazel" he spat out her name as if it defiled his mouth.
She lay, trying to stop the tears from falling; a man had never hit her before. It was considered disgusting for a man to raise his hand to a woman in her world, but obviously not so in his.
She heard creaking as he uncurled himself form the chair, stretching like a lithe cat. She raised her head slightly. And looked up at him. He too, stared down at her.
"I think I should at least be granted a name," she whispered.
His arms reached up into the air and Hazel dropped back to the floor waiting for the blow that never came. After a few moments she dared to look up and looked straight into the face behind the mask.
Underneath that brutal, unforgiving mask had been the most fragile and ethereal face Hazel had ever seen. He was tall and thin, although maybe the size of those flowing black robes hid his bulk. His skin was pale, almost translucent and those grey eyes where surrounded by locks of silver-blond hair. His hair was long and floppy, framing his face like a halo of silver. Even his lips where pale, as if blood dared not go there. He looked dead, like a cold corpse that had awoken.
He sneered a smile at her, "I am Draco Malfloy. Powerful wizard and my Master's strongest servant"
With a swish of the cloak and another pop he left her alone to brood. Neither words of a goodbye nor any explanation as to what would happen to her left his lips. Although that fact was clear in her mind, at some point she would die. This man, no, boy would kill her without any second thought when he became bored with her.
She wanted to understand what had happened. One minute she was reading in the library, bothering no one. Then those black-robed and white masked people had crashed into her life, killing as they walked. She had tried to save the life of that child, blind bravery that had been. She doubted it was a successful attempt. She doubted anyone in that library had survived.
Expect her. She had interested that Draco in some way. Something about him interested her too. She wanted to understand him, wanted to understand this world he talked of. The world of wizarding she so easily believed in.
She studied her surroundings now. His presence had not allowed her to previously. She was a prisoner. The thought pushed itself steadily into her mind. She was caged.
Her cell was small and smelt strongly of mould. The three walls around her where made of a dull grey stone and the wall facing her was made of criss-crossing metal bars. It housed a grate next to the floor, perhaps for meals to be slid through. She noticed with a sudden panic that there was no door. There was no way to get in or out of this cell. She panicked, the thought of just being left here to slowly die racing through her brain. She threw herself at the bars of her prison screaming. No words came out, just an animal-like howl. She tore at the bars, sharp edges cutting into her flesh but she didn't notice the pain. Blind panic soothed it.
More bars rattled as she tore at her own as if she thought she could pull them down.
"Child, child" a soft voice called, "Child stop"
It compelled her to and she stared into the murky cage opposite. The lighting was so dull she could only just make out a ragged shape near the bars.
"Child" he said, "Be calm. It's not that bad yet. You still have life."
"But I'm trapped, caged" she hissed.
"But your not dead" he replied, "And you've been brought here. That's always a good sign-although that isn't really the right phrase"
"Where is here?" she said. Her hands began to shake with pain and she stared at the deep gashes she had caused herself.
"Where is here?" he choked out, "You mean you have never heard of the famous "Malfloy Dungeons"?"
"No" she replied then added uncertainly, "I'm a, a mudblood"
He gave a harsh gasp and coughed "No child. No your not"
"Well I thought that's what you wizards called-"
"No" he cut in, his voice hard. "That's the most sickening way to describe a person like yourself. You are a muggle, a person of no magical power. Just a muggle"
"That's not offensive?" she ventured.
"No" he replied, "And I heard Master Malfloy call you one. And if you stood up to him then you're braver than most wizards"
"How do you mean?" she said, gently sitting on the floor before her legs collapsed from under her.
"You know nothing of our world do you?" She shook her head.
"Maybe I should start with Voldemort. Or maybe I should start with Hogwarts. Or perhaps the Malfloys…" he tailed off.
"Just start at the beginning," she said softly.
"Well many, many years ago" he began, then shook his head, "Well there rose up a great Dark Wizard who named himself Lord Voldemort. He began to collect followers to him, those who sort great power or what they believed, respect. Those days were dark and many wizards fought bravely to protect the good. But Voldemort became stronger and he became bored. There was no one to challenge his power, no one to fight him. And so he created a prophecy, a powerful prophecy. He said that on the day when all planets were aligned a boy would be born with the power to destroy him. He wanted someone worthy of a duel. He didn't expect his prophecy to come true so soon though. He wanted to have conquered the world before it did. But unfortunately for him, nine months later, that boy was born. Too the amazing wizards The Potters. Voldemort did not want this. So he decided to get rid of this baby while he could, hoping to get rid of his powerful father in the process. Now, there is a curse, you know what I mean by that?" (She nodded, she had read books about magic before but she had never believed in it until now) "The Killing curse. There is no way to block it; no getting away from it once it has been cast. No one had ever survived it. And then Harry happened. Voldemort murdered his parents with that very curse and yet, when he turned his wand upon the sleeping Harry, the curse bounced back. Voldemort was near destroyed and he fled. Days became lighter and people rejoiced. All this because of Voldemorts arrogance and one little baby, Harry Potter" he stopped briefly, as if regaining his strength.
"You understand so far?" he asked. She could feel his piercing eyes even if she could not see them.
"Yes" she croaked, tears hid behind her eyes, waiting to fall for Harry.
"And so Harry grew up, became a excellent wizard and a loyal, courageous person. But in his fourth year at Hogwarts. A school for magic" he added for her "Voldemort managed to regain his power. And for five long years we have been battling him again." He sighed. "Harry is still fighting, although his burden weighs on his heart."
The tears feel freely now. She, in her nineteen years of life had never heard such a story. It frightened her.
"Why, why are you here?" she choked out.
"I was caught, fighting to protect Harry in his seventh year of school"
"If you are a wizard then why did they not, well er…"
"Kill me?" he added helpfully, "Because Lucius, Draco's father as much as he despised me, could not kill his and his sons headmaster. Maybe they thought I'd be more helpful alive. Maybe they thought I would turn against my friends and give the Dark Side knowledge. Now I think they have just forgotten I even lie here"
She pulled herself closer to the bars, in the hope of seeing this man's face. He seemed to sense that too and moved closer himself. Through her blurry tears she saw his kindly eyes, the twinkle she felt should have been there long gone. He had a tangled and matted beard, nearly reaching his ankles. His hair was the same, the bright colour it had once been now a dull grey. He was all bones and skin and his tattered blue robe hung off his frame. She smiled at him.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Albus Dumbledore" he replied.