Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that you recognize. Harry Potter & Company belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Blood Red Love

By Ciara Scarborough

Chapter 1

Naomi Brooks waited uneasily in between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station. She was waiting to pick up her younger sister Camilla, who was returning home for the summer after her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The two sisters were incredibly close, especially since Camilla was almost five years younger than her sister and spent most of the year away at school. Naomi herself was not a witch, (her sister being the only known witch in their family) but she never resented her sister for what she was. She didn't, however, enjoy waiting for her sister to come through a seemingly solid brick wall; the sight always unnerved her, and she couldn't help feeling conspicuous waiting in between platforms. But there wasn't much she could do about that, as 'muggles' as her sister now called non-magic folk, couldn't pass through the 'barrier' with out a witch or wizard. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her sister to arrive and the people around her slowly filed onto their respective platforms, leaving her to stand alone. Or so she thought.

Naomi awoke to the feeling of hard cold stone beneath her. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. She laid still on the floor, slowly remembering the events that had lead to her capture.

As she had been waiting for her sister someone had grabbed her and dragged her into a dark corner at the station, making sure to have one hand securely clamped over her mouth at all times. She struggled fiercely, but failed to escape. Her attacker had hissed some strange incantation so quietly that it was almost under his breath. That was all she could remember.

I must have blacked out, she thought to herself. Slowly she regained the usage of her eyelids and was able to open her eyes and discover that she was lying on the floor of what seemed to be a jail cell in some type of dungeon. The walls, ceiling and floor were all made out of roughly cut stone blocks and the only opening to be seen was the wrought iron door at the far end of the cell. Through it she could see that there were other cells like hers lining the wall across from her. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching, and if she wasn't already paralyzed, she would have been with fear.

From where she was laying she could see the feet of a figure in a cloak and a figure that resembled some sort of guard. They stopped at the door of the cell across from hers and Naomi heard the guard opening the door. The cloaked figure entered and, for the first time, she realized that there was a woman in the cell across from her. The woman tried to scramble into the nearest corner, but she wasn't fast enough. The cloaked figure dove at her and pinned her to the floor. He then bent over the woman, who let out a blood curdling scream, and bit into her neck. The woman continued to scream for a few more seconds, and then her body went limp. Naomi closed her eyes, wishing that she hadn't seen what she just had. How long she laid there, with her eyes closed tight and the image of the figure in the cloak bent over the woman etched in her mind, she did not know, but eventually, thankfully, the footsteps left the cell and slowly began to fade.

Naomi awoke to the sound of footsteps walking towards her cell again. She quickly assessed her ability to move and realized that, although she had regained movement to more of her body, she could still only move her head and neck. As the footsteps got louder, Naomi tried not to panic. She was terrified to find that the feet, which belonged to the guard and someone who resembled the cloaked figure from before, stopped outside of her door.

"This is the one," said the guard as he fumbled with what sounded like a large set of keys. "She was brought in this morning; put up quite a fight too. You should've seen Marshall, he was really beat up," continued the guard, opening the door when he successfully found the right key.

"You are free to go," the silky voice of the cloaked figure hissed. There was a pause, and then the guard's feet slowly left the cell. Naomi lay completely helpless on the floor in front of her attacker, and silently prayed that whatever cruel torture that he was going to inflicted upon her would be over quickly. Her attacker bent down slowly and pulled a vile of green colored liquid out of her cloak and poured it down her throat.

As he tilted the vile to her lips, Naomi studied her attacker's appearance. His eyes were the strangest color she had ever seen; they were red. She had read about rare albino people having red eyes, but she was certain that this man was not an albino. He had the type of skin that was just dark enough to look naturally tanned all year round and red hair cut military style. He was wearing a black cloak, but what interested Naomi the most were his eyes, and the depth that lay just beyond them.

The potion soon took effect, and she regained control over the functioning of her body. As soon as she regained the use of her limbs, instinct took over and she flew to her feet. The cloaked figured slowly raised to his. He was standing so close to her that Naomi couldn't help but feel the warm heat that radiated from his body. She stood her ground, mainly because she didn't want to show that she was afraid and give her opponent the upper hand, but a part of her also welcomed the warmth that his body produced after having laid on the cold stone floor for so long.

"You are a fighter, or so I have heard," the cloaked figure stated. "But I warn you, you would be better off not fighting me." With that, he went to grab Naomi's arm, but he was unsuccessful, as she pushed his arm away with a swat. Her attacker pulled a wand from his cloak and with a casual flick, had pinned her arms to her sides. She tried to pull them apart, but an invisible force was holding them there.

Within an instant, Naomi found herself pinned between the stone wall of her cell and the cloaked figure; she could see fire behind his eyes. "I warned you not to fight me," his warm breath hissed in her ear.

"Excuse me sir, but you father would like to see you," interrupted the guard, who had returned without either Naomi's or the cloaked figure's notice.

"Fine, take her to my room." He said, pushing Naomi towards the guard. But before he did, he hissed in her ear, "I shall deal with you later. And if I were you, I would work on my attitude." He then pushed past both her and the guard, who now had a firm hand, clamped around her arm, and stomped down the long stone corridor.