So I spent ages trying to find a story in which a child was a death eater attending Hogwarts (excluding Draco obviously…) and I couldn't find any :( although I would've rather read one, I'm going to have a go at writing my own one… I don't know how far it will go, it depends on how much you guys like and review it etc... So...onwards.

Young Erik de Cancariis looked up in anticipation at the peeling gold letters that were over the door of the shabby shop, reading Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. After a quick glance at the window display he finally made his way cautiously into the little shop, ignoring the tinkling bell which rang somewhere in the depths of the shop. Erik brushed himself off and with a deep breathe, took in his surroundings. It was exactly like his Godfather had described, dirty, untidy and not worth his time. However, this was the place where every young Wizard and Witch got their first wand, and Erik was not about to be that exception. Well, that wasn't the complete truth; Erik had a wand. Not any ordinary wand either, it was his father's wand, 14inches, Hippogriff feather, mahogany. But as every good Wizard knew, there is nothing better than your very own wand, that has chosen you, and that's why Erik had been sent here.

Impatiently he thumped a pale fist onto the dusty desk and rolled his eyes over the piles of boxes which contained Wands to be sold, which seemed to be sorted in no obvious order for easy access. Erik was incredibly particular about this type of thing and liked to order everything he owned, especially his books, into alphabetical order, date of publishing and Authors initials, therefore staring at these boxes created the almost unbeatable urge to scurry around the desk and begin arranging the boxes. However before he could a soft voice greeted him, capturing his attention.

'Afternoon, Sir.' Erik replied and stood up straight, placing both of his arms by his side, looking somewhat like he was in the middle of an army drill. The Wizard looked incredibly kind, but gave him the heebie jeebies none the less.

The withered figure of an elderly gentleman was standing before him, his silvery eyes boring into Erik's dark black ones, as if he was looking deep inside him. 'Yes, yes. I was wondering when you'd finally decide to get a wand of your very own, Master Cancariis.' He spoke gently as he took tiny baby steps towards the 13 year old wizard who stood awkwardly looking up at him.

'Yup.' Erik answered, knowing clearly it wasn't a question of any sorts. He stuck out his left arm and bit his lip in aggravation. 'Can you get this over and done with? I have packing to do.'

'Packing, hmm?' The old Wizard mused out loud and pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his black trouser pocket.

'Yes. I'm starting school.' He hissed as the Wand Maker made an attempt at pulling up his sleeve, but before he could he whipped it away. 'That's not necessary, just find me a wand!' Erik rubbed his arm accusingly as if Ollivanders touch had burnt him. The wand maker looked incredibly surprised, but said nothing.

Wand number 34. Erik let out a breathe of exasperation as yet another wooden wand was placed in his hold, and nothing happened. They'd been at this for well over an hour, and he was longing to get back home and read up on Dragons, his favourite subject. His Godfather had bought him the latest book in the Dangerous Dragons of East Bulgaria series, complete with moving images, frighteningly real holograms and cards that Erik had been collecting since the age of 6.

'Hmmm,' Mr Ollivander put a long finger to his lips and looked Erik up and down. 'You appear to be a very hard customer.'

'Not to worry, I'll go somewhere else.' Erik grunted and placed the final wand onto the desk and edged towards the door.

'No, No! …Wait there, I think I have the perfect Wand for you.' The Wand Maker scuttled off deep into the heart of the shop, only his head bobbing up and down was visible as he rummaged loudly through a cardboard box of Wands.

Within minutes he returned, holding a black box on the top of his turned up palms, treating it as if it was solid gold. Erik liked the look of this.

'Try this, Mr de Cancariis.'

Erik received the box and rested it on his right knee carefully as he opened it up. The sight that met him was…breath-taking. It wasn't the Wand parsay that was so amazing, but the inside of the box. It rested on a small bit of golden silky material which had been lovingly placed over a generous amount of padding. However what had attracted Erik's attention was the tiny image of a dragon that was on the inside of the lid. It had been delicately engraved and the lines were perfect. Erik ran a finger over it gently and began to run a nail inside the scales when a wrinkled hand slammed down forcefully on his.

'Be careful. This wand was given to me as a …present. I'm not entirely sure what…qualities that image beholds. Magic will never surprise, young Cancariis.'

Erik nodded silently, still captivated entirely by the beautiful image. It was only the shop door slamming behind him that brought him out of the trance. He blinked rapidly and looked around, only to meet the eyes of a bushy haired, bucktoothed Witch about his age. She'd brought with her into the shop, an invisible air of knowledge and she seemed to carry herself well, as if she felt herself slightly more important than the average Witch. Much like he did.

'Mr Ollivander, I was wondering if you could do a quick repair on my wand, Ronald was at it again – oh, who are you?' She paused only to look him up and down, and scowl.

Erik found he couldn't talk, so instead of looking a fool he decided to return to assessing every inch his of the wand in front of him. He clutched the wand out of its box, which he snapped shut and slipped into the pocket of his long blue travelling robes. With one swish of the wand he felt completely taken over by the power of the instrument that he held between his fingers. A green aura glowed around him momentarily before it disappeared into thin air, leaving both the unfamiliar Witch and the Wand Maker staring at Erik wide eyed and open mouthed.

'12 inches. Dragon heartstring. Elderwood…' The old Wizard blinked and looked back and forth from Erik to the Witch. '…Brilliant things. Truly, brilliant things.'

Erik raised an eyebrow and turned to the Witch who was still staring at him, her hands loosely holding onto her hips, taking on the pose of a mother.

'What?' he snorted and put the Wand back into the box, which he returned to his pocket. 'Mr Ollivander, put that on my tab. My Godfather will be in here later, he'll pay.'

Before he could receive a reply Erik swept out of the shop at such a speed that he disrupted the dust that seemed to cover every surface of the shop, making the Witch sneeze. However, he didn't notice she was following him until he turned a corner and felt the presence behind him.

'What do you want?' He snapped, not even bothering to turn around.

'Do you go to Hogwarts? I don't know you.' The girl questioned, she was extremely forward.

'I'll be joining in September.' Erik replied gruffly, wondering why he'd given the Witch an answer.

'Oh… My names Hermione Granger. What's yours?'

'Erik de Cancariis.' Yet again with the answering, what was up with him?

'So, why are you joining so late? You do know it's our second year? You're a year late.' She pressed, falling into step with him.

For some reason Hermione's probing didn't seem to bother Erik, normally he would've swatted her away like a bug and told her to leave him be, but her company felt sort of…nice. He scrunched his nose and glanced to his left to take in his new female acquaintance. She was looking back at him.

'You're very pale. Your hairs jet black, long-ish. Your eyes. They look empty, slightly void of emotion… in that shop you didn't treat Mr Ollivander with any respect, nor me. Do you know who Severus Snape is?' Hermione asked, leaning towards Erik unconsciously. Her serious face was what pushed Erik over the edge. The first time he'd laughed with a child of his age, in a long time. He absolutely roared.

'You're suggesting – you think – you - !' He couldn't contain himself, or finish his sentence.

'It was only an assumption. You didn't have to be so rude.' She sniffed and veered off to the left, obviously leaving him.

'No wait!' Erik sobered immediately and grabbed frantically for her arm. 'Can't we talk…longer?' His voice was quiet, weak. He tried to ignore how desperate and childlike he sounded. 'I mean- don't worry.' He muttered.

He was just about to leave when she replied.

'I'd love to.'

The duo sat in The Three Broomsticks sipping goblets of butterbeer, chatting away. They had been for the last 2 hours.

'So, let me get this straight. You're joining Hogwarts because you don't want to be home schooled by an incredibly wise, powerful Wizard? You'd rather be around lots of…dunderheads that don't always want to learn?'

Dunderheads. Ha-ha. He wondered if she'd picked up that word from Severus Snape. Oh.

'Snape. He's a family friend.' He blurted, snorting a little of his butterbeer by accident.

'What?' Hermione replied, he'd clearly interrupted her train of thought.

'Earlier you…assumed... I..' He mumbled and looked away embarrassed.

'Oh I see. I wasn't aware he had any friends though…' She answered rubbing her temple in thought; Erik had to stifle another explosion of laugher with the palm of his hand.

'And yeah, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid. But home tutoring can get quite lonely. Plus my teacher is really harsh.' Erik scratched the back of his neck nervously, wondering why he'd told Hermione that, and why he'd actually requested her company in the first place. But there was something about her that made him feel comfortable, safe. Something he wasn't used to feeling. It was like he could share his darkest secrets with her and…However, he couldn't finish his thought, Hermione's amber eyes were resting on him, bringing out an unfamiliar reddish tinge to his cheeks.

'Before you tell me anything else, let me tell you about me.' She grinned, and flew into a detailed account of her life with a great deal of gusto.

To his surprise Erik's short attention span held up long enough for him to listen, and take in every little detail of Hermione's life. She was a brilliant Witch. Maybe a little Know-It-All, but definitely brilliant.

'Wow.' He breathed as she finally finished, flicking her hair back and gesturing to Rosmerta to bring her the bill. Erik got the impression she was in her element, teaching others and talking about herself. He also got the impression that she wasn't given the time to talk about herself much either, he'd probably find out why soon.

Soon? What was he on about? He couldn't retain friendships even if he liked, and he wasn't about to get close to this Witch. She was a Gryffindor after all. His inner monologue continued as Hermione nattered to Rosmerta and ended up buying another butterbeer instead of paying the bill.

'Erik?' Her voice snapped him out of it.

'Yes?'

'Tell me about you.'

'Oh me...uhmm...Okay…'

He twiddled his thumbs and ran his fingers through his curly black locks repeatedly before he found a sufficient way to start off.

'I live with my Godfather Markos de Cancariis. I have done since I was 2 years old. My mother and father passed away when I was about one, but they'd put me in the care of him well before they died, as if they knew what was coming… I travelled with him up to the age I am now, living a life of a free Wizard. It wasn't until I met some of my cousins that I finally realized I was missing out. I've lived all around the world, learning the darkest magic…the most interesting, helpful magic… with Markos as my mentor and my teacher. My favourite country was Egypt… I used to love laying in the sand looking up at the starry night sky… some of my dearest memories are those of me whispering incantations which pulled the stars into patterns… but we couldn't stay long, my Godfather got himself into trouble everywhere he went. I've been collecting things from every destination and every city I've lived in, but my favourite are books, I-' He was about to tell her about his Dragon obsession but was interrupted by her loud squeal.

'You love books? Oh Merlin! The gods have blessed me!'

Erik just stared.

'Oh. I'm sorry!' She blushed deeply and hid her head into her red Muggle jumper.

'No, no it's okay… I love books too.' He said meekly, not knowing whether to pat her hand reassuringly or just continue to stare at her. But she answered that for him. Hermione peeked out from her jumper and smiled.

'What type of books?' Her interest was greater than her embarrassment.

'Oh…everything and anything. I've got my own library…it's so vast. But I have a large amount of books on Dragons I er…like them a lot.' He was about to try and wrap his tongue around the L word, but decided against it. She'd squealed again, but this time a lot quieter.

'That's amazing! Tell me more!' She said literally hanging out of her seat. However, her enthusiasm was warming to him. It felt strangely nice 'Okay so. Yeah. I travel. I've been flying since I could walk… that's how we travelled mostly, by broom. But sometimes things got dangerous…but I'd been prepared. Against most of the rules I was taught to apparate when I was 5. I couldn't do it at first, quite a mess. One time I ended up in Sydney when I had been instructed to go to Moscow.' He chuckled to himself, and was surprised that Hermione joined in.

'You can apparate? I thought only… no don't worry.'

He'd said too much.

'Go on?'

'I thought only followers of…You-Know-Who could do that…well, that's what I heard.'

'You really are pretty clever, Witch. But that's incorrect.' He responded, his black eyes twinkling. 'I guess I'm an exception then. However, anyone can apparate. I believe he was the first one to do it though, and taught the skill to his followers.' He answered, smiling.

Good save Erik, good save.

'Oh.' She paused for moment thinking, and then smiled. Probably finding no fault in his answer, for now.

'Anything else?' She pressed him to keep talking. It was quite invigorating to be found interesting for once.

Oh yeah. And I'm a Death Eater. He so wanted to add just to see her response, but he was enjoying himself too much.

'I don't know…maybe if you asked, it would be easier for me. I don't often talk about myself.' He answered meekly, finally realizing the situation he was in. He was sat with a Witch he'd known barely 3 hours, chatting as if he had the freedom to do so. His Godfather would be furious.

'What house do you think you'll be in? Hermione questioned him brightly, finishing off her third goblet of butterbeer with a satisfied sigh of contentment.

'Slytherin. No doubt.' Erik grinned slyly, showing a set of perfect white pearls. This seemed to unnerve Hermione slightly, which created an unusual pang of regret in his stomach. 'I'm sorry…I just, I know I will be.'

'But you seem so good Erik, so…wonderful.' She told him as if she felt she was complimenting him, but her words were like insults. He didn't want to be good. He couldn't be good, and he most certainly was not wonderful. He was a bad Wizard. A Very bad Wizard.

I hope that's not too much information for you all to hold. Hope you enjoyed, review if you did :) And check out my two other HP stories which are on the go; A New Life and Summer Lessons. If anyone's having trouble picturing (or just wants an idea) of what Erik looks like…I actually based him on Akaya kirihara from The Prince of Tennis. So just search him up :)

Peace out