A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile but I wasn't feeling great and I've been busy with physio and homework. I'm back now though.

I'm not sure if I should keep the pairings in the book (R/Hr and H/G) or switch it to H/Hr. Please review and tell me what you think. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Just some random characters.

Summary: Harry Potter, new Auror but no stranger to the Dark Arts has to battle the remaining Death Eaters and save his sister or rather soon to be sister-in-law.

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Harry's excitement was short lived however as a Death Eater entered. "Stand up, quickly. I haven't got all day." If Harry's excitement must have been transferred when the Death Eater entered as he seemed excited about something himself. "Let's go!" He said to them, a little rougher now. The Death Eater - after opening the door that he had closed behind him when he walked in to get them up - directed them down a long ornately decorated hall with prods from his wand at their backs.

While he was busy muttering to himself about blood traitors and unworthy mudbloods, Harry looked around him, wanting to know the house as well as he could when he planned their escape. The walls were painted a dark blood red with gold flowers painted on the bottom half, their stems also gold. Dividing the top from the bottom of the wall was a long line of dark wood. If Harry had to say what wood it was, he would have said oak. The walls were adorned with paintings and tapestries depicting battle scenes. Most of them were bloody and Harry realized with a jolt that someone had used real blood for the blood in each of the scenes. He tore his attention from the paintings and looked up. The ceiling was high up and every few yards was a gold chandelier, the lit candles flickering as if a light wind was passing through. They went down a flight of stairs and Harry saw that this floor was decorated in the Slytherin colours, although he couldn't imagine why any floor in this house would be decorated anywhere close to Gryffindor if there were Death Eaters here.

"In here," said the Death Eater. "You don't want to keep Deimos waiting. He always knows." With that, Harry and Hermione entered the room. The walls were painted red on the top, the same blood red as the floor above, but with dark panelling on the bottom half of the wall. All the furniture in the room - which included a couch, several side tables, a crackling fireplace, a large ornate desk with snakes decorating the sides and a chair to match with snakes for armrests (uh, wooden snakes), a bookcase that took up the entire wall to their left, and a green plant in a corner - was oak and very highly polished. There were also lamps all around the room, each with a snake or two depicted somewhere on it.

"Welcome," said a voice and Harry spun on the spot, hand going reflexively to where he usually kept his wand. Remembering that it had been taken, Harry let his hand drop. Hermione had grabbed onto his left shirt sleeve and was clutching it, terrified. A tall man with dark black hair turned on the spot to face them and Hermione gasped beside him. Harry himself was trying not to give away his shock. The man's face, while it may have been handsome once, was nowhere near that now. It was covered in scars and what looked like melted skin. As if he had been in a fire. "Please, sit down."

Harry didn't move and neither did Hermione. She seemed to be following his lead and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. He didn't want her tortured anymore than she had been. "No thank you." Harry said finally, ice in his voice.

"Very well. Now, Harry Potter," the man apparently called Deimos walked to one of the tables and poured himself a glass of what looked like brandy. Suddenly he started laughing. "The great and noble Harry Potter. How pleased I am to finally meet you face to face. I admit that while the Dark Lord hunted you and planned for you demise, I was very curious about you. I wondered how you kept evading the Dark Lord when anyone he wanted dead was usually dead the next day." He took a sip of brandy and looked at Harry who felt as though he was being x-rayed. Quickly, he closed his mind, relaxed and used occlumency. Deimos looked slightly taken aback for a moment and then continued, "When I heard about the prophecy finally, I was stunned."

"How did you hear of the prophecy?" Harry interrupted. "No one, even today, has heard the full prophecy except for six people."

The man grinned. "Oh, I heard it all right. I was one of the Dark Lord's secrets. You see, I was a wizard in an orphanage just like the Dark Lord was once. One day, when we were on a trip, He found me. He told me what I was, for of course, I had no idea. I didn't believe him at first but then he showed me some of the things he could do. Simple things at the time but I thought they were fantastic. Then he told me that he was looking for boys like me. Boys who would do well with power, boys who already had a large amount of power even before eleven. You may be surprised, but many wizards and witches before and at the age of eleven do not have a strong power. Sure, they may have control over the power they do have, but they haven't done anything extraordinary. The Dark Lord told me that I was one of these select few boys. He took me under his wing, took me from the orphanage, which I hated so it didn't matter and taught me how to use the power. When I got my Hogwarts letter, he didn't let me go. Instead, he taught me everything I needed to know and more." Deimos smiled easily and sat down on the chair.

"That doesn't explain how you know the prophecy," said Hermione.

"True, true. It doesn't. I have a friend down in the Department of Mysteries. Or had a friend down there, I should say. The Dark Lord did not introduce me to many people. He wanted a secret weapon and here I was, ready, loyal and waiting. Strong in the Dark Arts, powerful and, best of all, I knew my place. I followed orders strictly not to be seen and so I was not. I went down to the Department of Mysteries and met someone. A Professor Trelawney who had been trying to find out if her great-great-great grandmother had any prophecies left there. I talked to her and got her talking about being a seer and I looked into her mind, saw what she did not remember and came here."

"If this is true, why didn't you tell Voldemort the full contents of the prophecy?" Harry asked.

Deimos looked at them in surprise and possibly anger for a second and finally said, "I did."

Harry and Hermione frowned and looked at each other. "But he didn't know, he didn't know any of the end."

"Of course he did. He knew everything. Oh, and by the way, my name is Deimos. That way, you have a name to curse when you scream." He pointed his wand at the door and there was a bang followed closely by a squeal.

"So you just come in here, talk to us, brag to us about how there's someone to step up for Voldemort and then torture us?"

"Of course not. No, this time you're going to die. And I will have accomplished something my mentor never did." Hermione gripped Harry's arm now instead of just the sleeve, she had obviously thought that they were going to get out of there alive. Harry had had doubts since the door had shut behind them.

"You can't do this!" Hermione finally said in sheer desperation.

"Can't I? I know you've been involved in this for a long time as well and I thought you were the smart one. Tell me, when did you start thinking the world was full of good people again? Of people who wouldn't do this? Did you not realize perhaps that Death Eaters still roamed the world, lost without their beloved master, waiting for someone to lead them again? Good bye mudblood." And with that, he walked out of the room, Atticus Flynn entering has soon as he straightened up from his bow.