A/N: Hey peeps! :D So this is a story I started writing in my notebook aaages ago, so I decided to fix it up and put it up here. I like this story, because it's focused on a dark theme that's not only Moldy Voldy and his Dumb-Eejit cronies. xD I hope you enjoy this first chapter! It still needs some editing, but I thought I'd see the response I get first before actually fixing it up much. x) Enjoy!

Predator and Prey

Summary:

Her past is a secret, her present kept in the dark,

Hardly anyone knows of her sufferings, of the demons in her life.

Then it comes back to haunt her;

Suddenly, she finds herself being hunted.

Crymson Shayd has hidden behind a thick veil for five and a half years.

But what happens when it begins to crack?

Chapter One: The hunt begins

Christmas Eve, 1976. A night she'll never forget… when the hunt began.

It was a cold night. There was no snow, but the biting air was enough to numb your skin and make your movements stiff. Still, it was a beautiful night for many. Lights decorated both the interiors and exteriors of houses, flashing red and green and blue. Santa Clause figures perched on windowsills and rooftops, for the benefit of children. And joyous voices could be heard all around as people wished each other a Merry Christmas and sang carols at the tops of their voices.

One lone figure, however, was not feeling the festive mood. She was a teenager of about seventeen. Her light, honey-coloured hair was partially covered by a warm woolly beanie. She was clutching her think jacket around her, pitch-black eyes peering around the lonely street almost suspiciously.

Crymson Shayd was feeling oddly unsettled. She had been looking forward to this day for a while, and had been perfectly cheery in the morning, but now she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Admittedly, Crymson hadn't ever walked back to her Aunt's house this late alone, but she had her wand and could defend herself fairly well. It was all very strange; everything had been normal when she'd left the house earlier in the day. Her seven-year-old cousin had been zooming all around the small house with hyper energy that only a child could have – literally; he'd received a hover broomstick for his birthday the month before, and was attached to it. His mother had been cooking pancakes in the kitchen, and his father sitting in his study. Crymson couldn't think what could have gone wrong.

Unless… an unbidden thought crept into her mind, but Crymson brushed it off irritably. It's Christmas time! She told herself sternly. This is no time for dark thoughts. But, still, she couldn't stop herself from rushing over to her Aunt's house anxiously when she saw the lights turned off, nor stem the increasingly speedy train of thoughts from flowing into her mind.

"Aunt Vessa?" she called, opening the front door a little. It was silent and cold. Crymson shivered involuntarily as she stepped inside, pulling out her wand as she did so. "Uncle Allan? Michael?"

But even as she called, Crymson knew there would not be a reply. She whispered "Lumos" to light her wandtip and inched forward, her initial fear and anxiety disappearing in a wave of adrenalin and Gryffindor boldness. She held her wand high, sweeping it from left to right, taking in the damage done to the small hallway. She swallowed and moved onto the living room, fearing the worst. She stepped in and gasped at the sight.

Furniture broken and torn, the beautiful chandelier now scattered all over the floor in the form of tiny diamonds and crystals, the grandfather clock in the corner destroyed, and in the middle of all the mess…

"Aunty!" The sudden cry shattered the silence as Crymson threw herself down next to her Aunt Vessa, panic rising in her chest as she gazed at the once-beautiful face, which was now bloodied and inscrutable. Her arms were stretched out, a wand still loosely clutched in one hand. So she'd put up a fight… thought Crymson, staring painstakingly at her Aunt's face as though it would wake her up. Her throat was dry, and so were her eyes. Over her grief, she felt a wall of anger course through her veins, driving her to her feet. A thought flashed through her mind suddenly, subconsciously; How could he do this? Then she was straight away shocked into silence at the thought. It was him… he must've done it, to get at me…

Frantically, Crymson's eyes flitted across the ground, searching for a clue, a sign, anything. She knew, at least, that it wasn't the Death Eaters, since there was no Dark Mark, but for all she knew, he could've joined them and she wouldn't have found out…

Finally, she spotted something – a slip of parchment on the wall opposite her. She crossed the room, took it off and read it:

Crymson

I must say, you made a wise move going to live with the blood traitor Vessa – it meant I could get rid of her and her filthy Mudblood husband before I got you. Very selfish of you, wasn't it? Moving in with someone I would have no trouble killing, to protect yourself – so much for all that Gryffindor courage and boldness, eh?

And don't worry; I've got the little bugger with me. He's safe… for now. And he won't be in any immediate danger any time soon… as long as you agree to what we discussed before you ran away.

One word to anyone and the kid's dead. And I'll know if you say anything or show anyone this note. So you better watch what you do, if you care about his life, that is.

You can't run forever.

You've got no place to hide.

I'll get you.

SS

Crymson felt a shudder run down her spine as she reached the end and stared at the 'double S' trademark sign of Scorgum Shayd – two 'S's intertwined like snakes. She subconsciously rubbed her temple, where a scar in the same shape was hidden, and raked her eyes over the note once more. White-hot anger bubbled up inside her at the first few lines. Anger at her so-called father for attacking them, but mostly anger at herself for placing them in danger. She should've known he'd hunt her down. He'll strike down anyone who stands in the way effortlessly… She was the one who chose Aunt Vessa's place as a safe house and didn't think of the consequences.

Crymson wavered a little when she re-read the second paragraph. 'He's safe… for now'. She grimaced at the thought of little Michael in Scorgum's hands. Sure, he was a tough little bugger, but he's still a kid…

She took a deep, steadying breath, folded the note and placed it in her pocket. She wanted to keep it on her – not because it was valuable – far from it – but because she wanted a constant reminder of the consequences of her actions, and of Scorgum holding Michael captive – not that she'd need a reminder of that… She believed that if she hadn't come to live here, he wouldn't have killed them – Aunt Vessa and Uncle Allan – nor would he have taken Michael hostage. It's all my fault.

Shaking these dismal thoughts from her head, Crymson turned to take one last look at her Aunt. She couldn't stay. She'd figured out a rough plan – she would send a message to the Auror Department with a brief explanation of what happened so they could take the bodies away, and then get the hell out of there. Only after quickly seeing where Uncle Allan's body is.

Stepping nimbly over the shards of chandelier on the floor, Crymson reached for the door to the study. She swallowed and pushed it open, looking inside nervously. There was no blood this time, just the cold, still body of Vessa's husband on the carpeted floor. She knelt beside him, checking for a pulse, just in case. But there was nothing. Sighing, Crymson got up and looked around. On the desk she found a parchment and quill, so she jotted down a short anonymous note for the Aurors. She's send it with Herriwyn, her owl. Then Crymson spotted a money pouch in the open drawer full of Muggle and wizard money. Knowing that she would be needing it, she carefully placed the bag inside her pocket.

Ten minutes later, having sent the letter with Herriwyn, Crymson was making her way up the street, keeping in the shadows. Exiting the grim house into the brightly-lit town outside, with ringing voices all around, had been a bit of a shock, but she shook it off and continued up. She'd decided to stay a night in the local Muggle hotel up on the main street, then find a way to get back to Hogwarts early.

By the time Crymson reached the main street, it was well past midnight and much quieter. She was walking more speedily now, immersed in her thoughts, when she collided with something big and hard.

"OY – Watch where you're going!" cried a familiar-sounding voice.

Rubbing her head, Crymson looked up from the ground and gasped. "Sirius?" She got to her feet, gaping at him disbelievingly.

"Merlin! Crymson?" he said, surprised.

"What're you doing here?" they both asked each other at the same time.

Sirius Black was one of Crymson's fellow sixth-year Gryffindor at Hogwarts. He was part of the group that called themselves the Marauders, along with James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, and the four boys were good friends with Crymson and her friends – Lily Evans, Ranessa Melroy and Selene D'etre. Crymson was fond of all the Marauders; they were brilliant, funny and, most of the time, fun to hang around. (Not that she'd tell them all that, they'll get even more conceited.)

"Doesn't matter," shrugged Crymson, getting over her shock and ready to go again as she stood up. "I need to go anyway…"

"Wait a sec," said Sirius, frowning slightly. "Where're you going to at this time? It's dangerous to be alone… haven't you heard about the recent attacks?"

"What, more attacks?" she said wearily. "Death Eaters?" She hadn't seen the Daily Prophet for a while, so she wasn't too well informed about the attacks over the holidays.

"You mean you didn't hear about them?" Sirius asked incredulously, walking beside her as they continued up the street. Crymson shook her head. He continued, "Well, one of them was a family with four kids who were all killed because their dad refused to join up. Then there was the one about this 20-year-old guy and his sister who got in a duel with a few Death Eaters at night for insulting them – both got cursed pretty severely, they're at St. Mungo's now. And this morning there was something in the Prophet about the cousin of that Ravenclaw in our year – Riley Goldstein – she was out at night alone and didn't come back. They've searched everywhere, it's like she disappeared. The family's blood traitors, so the Aurors reckon she got kidnapped or something…" He trailed off, staring into the distance.

Crymson was silent. She didn't like hearing about these attacks, but they were becoming more frequent by the week. Hardly anywhere was safe now. And there goes the idea of the hotel, she thought grimly. She had enough on her plate being hunted down by Scorgum, now she had to watch out for Death Eaters too. Supposing he isn't one. Then she remembered something. "Hey Sirius," she glanced at him sideways, then continued somewhat hesitantly, "I thought… isn't, um, your family into that stuff?"

He scowled and muttered darkly, "If by 'my family' you mean that worthless scum, then yeah. Why?"

She hesitated, not wanting to give anything out, but then determined that she'd be better off knowing, even if it meant spilling a few secrets. "You don't happen to know any of the Death Eater's names, do you?" She stopped walking and faced him.

Sirius looked at the ground thoughtfully. "Some of them… anyone in particular you're looking for?"

Crymson nodded briefly, looking up the street at a few lit-up buildings. "Yeah. His name's Scorgum. Ring any bells?" She was taking a big risk telling him, and she knew it, but if he was a Death Eater…

Sirius gazed off into the distance and thought for a couple of moments, going over the name. Then he tuned back to her and said slowly, "Yeah, I remember him. Scorgum… tall guy, bulked up, got these dark eyes and creepy evil grin?"

Crymson let out a breath, her stomach twisting at the description. "Yeah, that's him," she said in a low voice. She was silent for a moment, Sirius watching her curiously.

"Do you know him or something?"

She glanced up, surprised, having momentarily forgotten he was there, and nodded briefly. "I guess you can say that… So he's definitely a Death Eater, then?"

Sirius nodded, scrunching up his nose in distaste. "He only joined recently, as far as I know. I don't know his full name – I've only heard him being called Scorgum… And, damn, he's creepy as hell. Crossed his path once and I almost got blasted to bits… I think he's become good pals with my father. Hell."

The teenage girl closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself, not wanting to raise questions from Sirius. She should've known from before that he'd eventually join them. With their help, he'd be able to track her down easier. She opened her eyes and looked up at Sirius, who was looking at her oddly. "No chance you can get any more info on him, is there?" She asked, starting to walk up again.

Sirius gave a short bark-like laugh as he fell into step beside her. "No chance in hell. " He paused for a second, and then said briefly, "I ran away."

Crymson's gaze flitted to his face for a moment. "You ran away?" she repeated in a peculiar voice. He nodded, grinning crookedly, though there was no humour in it.

"Well, yeah, why else would I be here? Well, actually, I was going to James' house before I ran into you. It's around here somewhere…" he glanced around doubtfully at the ordinary-looking houses.

Crymson's eyebrows had flown up in surprise. "Really? James lives here? Cool!"

"Hah, yeah, it would be cool… if I could remember where exactly his house is…" he rubbed his right forearm subconsciously. "Heck, if I knew you lived here too, I would've gone to your house first to get directions… but you don't know where he lives." He sighed and shifted, turning to look at the dark homes on the opposite end of the street. Crymson stayed quiet as he tried to remember, but then broke the silence.

"Don't you go to his house often?" she queried. Sirius looked around at her and his mouth twised into a wry smile.

"Yeah, but I always go via Floo, and I don't know his full address anyway..." he said, rubbing his left forearm subconsciously as he thought. Crymson stayed silent as he tried to figure out a way to contact his friend. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "I got it!"

Crymson was about to ask "Got what?" when Sirius pulled out his wand and murmured "Expecto Patronum" so that his large, silver, hound-like dog patronus appeared. He muttered a few things to it and it faded away down the street, its silver trail disappearing quickly. Crymson stared after it.

"What did you just do?"

He glanced at her curious-amazed expression and smirked. "Sent Prongs a message via Patronus - Trade secret." he added, when she opened her mouth to ask how. She huffed good-naturedly and crossed her arms as they awaited James' reply. The pair walked on a bit, not wanting to stay immobile in the cold. Sirius rubed his forearm again and, watching him, Crymson realised he was limping slightly.

"What's wrong with your leg?" she queried, startling him out of his silence. He glanced down and Crymson noticed him trying to make his stride more equal.

"Nothing, it's fine. Just a little injury," he shrugged nonchalantly, though Crymson was left a little skeptical. Luckily for him, he was saved any further interrogation by the form of James' patronus - a nimble silver stag. Crymson watched in awe as it reached them and opened its mouth, speaking in James' voice.

"Hey Padfoot. Listen, my dad said not to give you my address 'cause of safety precautions, but meet me at Regians Park in five."

With one glance at each other, I led the way to Regians Park, mind reeling from the events of the night.

A/N: Soo... like it? Hate it? Neutral opinion? Click that looovvely button under this and give me your opinion. ;) Muchly appreciated.

Anyway, sorry the beginning chapter's so sad-ish and dark, but it's pretty much the general theme of the story (mixe in with humour and romance, of course!). Next chappie includes James, and we learn something else about Crym. Stay tuned for our next thrilling.. chapter! xD

Cheers,

Izzy xo c: