Born Again to the Darkness
By TC Manning
Based on the characters and world of J.K. Rowling
Prologue
The three hooded figures landed gracefully onto the cobblestone of the alley way in downtown London, black wisps of smoke lightly hovering over the ground from where they stood. The first one, standing with an authoritative figure over the other two, turned to face them. His hair was silver and slicked back behind his head, coming down to the bottom of his neck and he stood taller eye level with one of the men and was slightly shorter than the large, blonde headed death eater.
"The ministry is now ours, The Dark Lord himself killed Rufus in his own office chair. With the taboo curse set on the Dark Lord's name it shouldn't be too hard to weasel out the members of the Order" the man they called, Yaxley, explained.
The man's eyes drifted to a small café across the street. The view inside the café wasn't at all clear but two individuals did sit at a table within the shop, the same place the taboo had been just triggered at. The biggest of the group turned to Yaxley and asked, "Do we know which of the Order member's are inside?"
Yaxley rolled his eyes "Does it honestly matter, Rowle. Just you and Dolohov get inside and take care of them" he did a double take back at them before leaving "change out of your robes before you do so as well, you'll lose the element of surprise" and with that final bit of information he was gone, headed back to the Ministry of Magic to help sort out the politics.
The two men stood and looked at each other as they observed the café from across the street. A young waitress walked up to the two and asked them something, soon leaving to the back to get whatever the two ordered. It was odd to Dolohov. Whomever these Order members were they sure seemed to be taking the attack on the Wedding and the fall of the Ministry rather well, sparing just enough time for tea. He scratched at the whiskers that spread across his face from days of unrest and no sleep. He finally spotted a trash collector truck moving down the street toward them. Looking to Rowle he motioned his head sideways and Rowle nodded, getting the idea almost immediately. As they began to remove their black robes and places them gingerly on the ground, the truck approached and stopped. Rowle tilted his head to the side as he made eye contact with one of the workers and as he did so he kicked over the trashcan next to him, spreading the contents across the ground.
"Hey, what's your problem?" the jump-suited man asked as he approached the much larger Rowle. "Hey you big oaf I'm talking to yah" the man prodded Rowle's chest with his index finger. Rowle smiled and then grabbed the man's hand bending it backwards with a snap. The man yelped in pain as he was brought to his knees. The yelp was loud enough for the driver of the truck to hear as he entered the alleyways within seconds wearing the same blue jumpsuit. The driver was barely able to get a word out before Dolohov spoke, Dolens Terminus, and a purple bolt of light shot from the tip of his wand, colliding with the chest of the man. In a very painful matter of seconds his heart ruptured and he died. The man still held by Rowle looked on in horror unable to comprehend what had just happened but before he could even think about asking one of his captors a green light engulfed his body, lighting up Rowle's smiling face.
Dolohov looked to Rowle and once again made a silent gesture towards the truck itself and after the two fit into the blue jumpsuits they carried the bodies and dumped them into the back of the truck. With wands clutched in their hands but underneath their sleeves they walked across the street towards the café where the two Order members sat. The door chimed as they entered, the florescent lights flooding over their faces. Immediately Dolohov regretted not going in with wands at the ready, they would surely be seen. But as they continued towards the counter at the back of the café and stopped, no hostile moves were taken. He was surprised he wasn't spotted immediately. His dark eyes glanced into the mirror behind the counter and watched over the two sitting there. Dolohov immediately recognized both of them from the battle two years before at the Ministry of Magic. Both were the Potter boy's friends Granger and Weasley. Rowle saw them as well and a low growl came from his throat "The mud blood is mine" he hissed and with a nod the two turned.
Two non-verbal curses shot towards the table the two sat at, but an invisible force dragged both down. Dolohov's eyes widened, as he understood what was happening. There had not been only those two; Harry Potter was hidden behind something. Dolohov reprimanded himself for being as stupid as not thinking the Potter boy would be there. "Potter's here!" cursed Dolohov but in an instant Rowle was hit by the invisible force of a spell shot directly from nowhere, the word Stupefy heard audibly from the vacant area. Dolohov went into panic mode, a mode he never went into but in a moment such as this, where he was so close to catching Harry Potter and his band of misfits he wasn't thinking clearly. His right arm flipped to the right sending a violent Expulso spell towards the invisible area, which impacted on a table. The explosion knocked whatever Potter had on him off sending both Potter and the object into a wall hard as fire erupted from the table. Without a second though his arm went from far right, swinging across the area to the red headed boy. His wand snapped in his wrist and an invisible rope swung around the red head taking him down. A smile pressed over Dolohov's face as he went to swing his own curse he invented when he first became a death eater, the same one he used on the man outside, towards the mudblood but she was quick and Dolohov knew he had been beat as soon as the words Potrificus Totalus left her lips.
Antonin Dolohov lay stiff as a board unable to move even the slightest inch of muscle as he watched on as the girl helped her friends up and approach him. The red headed boy was the first to move forward and the words that left his mouth made Dolohov laugh in his mind because he couldn't out loud.
"Give me one good reason, I shouldn't off yah right now!" the red headed boy threatened.
"Ron, don't" the girl pleaded.
"Suppose he did in Mad Eye, what would you say then?" the red headed boy named Ron snapped back, his wand pointed directly at the pointed nose of Dolohov.
Antonin wanted to speak, desperately at this time he wanted to say he was the one who killed Alastar "Mad Eye" Moody in the skies of England. That the coward Mundungus Fletcher left Mad Eye there helpless. It wasn't even a curse that killed the so called "most powerful Auror ever to live." It was a Stupefy sent from Antonin's wand that collided with Moody's head as he was distracted by the dissaperation of Mundungus and all it took was a little push off the broom, which sent Moody to his death. Dolohov took sick pleasure in remembering that vision. Alastar Moody falling at top speed and colliding with the ground, not leaving anything but scraps of bone and flesh to scrape off the fields below. As Dolohov basked in his newest triumph he snapped back to reality but only because he felt something tugging at his brain.
He looked towards the girl as her wand lit up and a silvery blue light swirled around into his head. He felt his brain rearranging itself, his memories shifting, bits of his life, not being shredded, but being disorganized. A bright light flashed over his eyes and he once again looked upon the three. The red head, still sweaty and out of breathe, a rather tall teenager with shabby dark hair and green eyes with a weird scar on his forehead, and a rather cute girl. He tried to move so he could ask for help up but he felt as if a great weight was holding him down. He tried to speak but nothing came out of his mouth. For the first time in his life, Antonin felt fear.
"Let's go" the green eyed boy said as he turned to walk away along with the girl. The red head stayed however and walked up to Dolohov and leaning down he whispered in his ear "I will kill you one day for what you did to my aunt and uncle. The Prewetts," and with a swift kick downward Antonin Dolohov was sent into blackness.