A/N: Thank you, my reviewers! I love you all! And I will try not to space out the paragraphs so much in this chapter J
Any helpful comments are welcome! Please review! Don't read the whole thing and then not let me know what you think of it!
Disclaimer: ::: blah blah blah:::
As it was not safe for even the Death Eaters to know who she was, or what she was doing rooming in the fortress of the Dark Lord himself, Azera stalked the halls of the dank prison in disguise. She would don the cloak of the standard Death Eater or servant, always keeping her face hidden, but her ears stayed open for news from the world outside. It would be useful to know these things when she departed from the fortress to begin her mission. The unusual sword was always burning in the back of her mind, serving for some strange purpose of revenge. When Potter's death befell him, more than one enemy would defeat him.
The Malfoys were always frequent guests in the house of the Dark Lord, and Azera took to watching the younger one, Draco, in secret. She knew some things about him- he hated Potter, he was good with women, and he would be in the same year as her when she left the confines of the court and went to Hogwarts. It was all the more important to keep her face hidden from him, and although he noticed her figure and her mysterious aura, he was never allowed to come close. The game of cat and mouse that they frequently resorted to play tired both of them after a while, and Azera took greater measures to hide her person from prying Malfoy eyes. There would be time enough for them when this was completed.
Azera took to practicing with the sword in the confines of her room, leaving her favorite dagger to grow dusty in its place on the small dresser table that she was provided with. She found the antique weapon too bulky for her taste, but it was manageable enough to get the job done. She polished the blade late the night before she left to go to Diagon Alley for her robes and books and things. She had received a letter in the mail from a Minerva McGonagall welcoming her to Hogwarts and telling her the supplies that she would need. It was Azera's gathering that the deputy headmistress would get in her way, and she vowed to keep her distance from this woman.
It took Azera ten minutes to pack up all her belongings into a small bag and depart eagerly from the fortress with the Dark Lord's blessing. The sky was overcast and gray as she hopped onto her broom and swung an Invisibility Cloak around her body and her belongings. As she kicked off, she glanced back. Marcus was standing at one of the ground floor windows, as if he had been watching her.
Diagon Alley came into view after a day's worth of flying, and next to it, the more familiar Knockturn Alley. Azera strode past the alley entrance without a look back, as if she did this every day. Being a good actress came in handy when you were an assassin.
As Azera already had all the money that she would ever need in her pocket, she strode into Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. After an uncomfortable few moments of every inch of her body being measured, the robes were delivered and Azera gratefully exited the shop. She was even more grateful that she wouldn't have to go through getting a new wand. Part of having a job like Azera's was keeping things secret, and although she highly doubted to Madame Malkin would remember her measurements by the evening, it was always safer not to have many people knowing your physical attributes.
After flipping through all the textbooks that she would need for the coming year, Azera found that she had already learned and committed to memory most of the lessons in all of the books. She had had tutelage from some of the best Death Eater teachers for most of her life and had been practically forced to memorize lists of potions and their uses, spells and their defenses, and astronomy? Azera could point out every constellation in her hemisphere and make some decent predictions from their locations, too. It looked like the schoolwork would be a breeze, which was all the better since Azera needed to concentrate fully on the task at hand.
Azera paid a night's worth of sickles at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron and threw her purchases on the creaky bed in her room. She took a shower in the cold, brackish water that poured in abundance out of a rusty faucet and then packed her suitcase with her books and her robes. She tossed her favorite Muggle outfit onto the spindly chair that stood in front of the window so that she could dress quickly tomorrow. It was her good luck outfit. She had worn it when she disposed of a traitor Death Eater that was on the run. It was easy to get men to come to you when you were sitting outside a nightclub in a short skirt, stilettos, and a v-neck halter-top, and this one had been no different. This wizard had asked for a kiss, she had grabbed his hand and led him into a nearby alleyway, and before he could touch her the tip of her thestral heartstring wand was pointed at his chest. 'Goodbye,' she had said, sending a stream of strong green light directly into his heart. She lit the body on fire and burned it there in the alleyway.
That had been her first mission. Now she was a vet assassin, and she always wore this outfit when she was undertaking a mission. She planned on making a bit of a stir at Hogwarts. Why go in quietly when you can go in with a bang?
The next morning she stood on Platform 9 ¾ pulling her robes on over her clothes. She didn't bother clasping them as she bent down to grab her suitcase handle. Her wand brushed against the strip of bare abdomen that was showing between her skirt and her shirt and she was reminded of what she had to do. Azera wished this to be quick and easy, so she could show the world that she could defeat the only foe that the Dark Lord had not been able to overcome. Harry Potter was just a child compared to the hardened assassin that had been born the day before him. He would be no problem.
She found an empty compartment on the train and sat down in the corner, watching people mill around on the platform. The drizzle turned into a downpour as the door to Azera's compartment slid open. Three males stood outside the door. Azera immediately identified one as the Malfoy that she had been briefly chased by at the fortress and gave him a sultry smile. The other two she classified as worthless goons, and she was right- their mouths hung open when they saw her, a girl that they had never seen before in a halter top and a miniskirt, no less, with her robes open over her clothes, sitting in the corner of their favorite compartment. Draco kept his cool, and then some, as he slid into the seat next to her.
"I'm
Draco Malfoy," he said, his eyes glinting at the sight of new prey. One of the
trolls cleared their throat. "These are Crabbe and Goyle," he said in a bored
tone, waving his hands in the general direction of his practically drooling
companions. "And you are…?"
"Azera Ceallach," she answered smoothly, shaking Draco's extended hand. She had decided on a surname before, picking the Celtic word for 'warrior maid.' Her thoughts were diverted momentarily by Draco's touch- he clasped both hands over hers and pulled her slightly closer. Slowly he entwined the fingers of his hand with hers.
"A pleasure," he said, grinning. The grin overshadowed a brief flash of emotion in his eyes, which Azera read as Is she pureblood? But the question plaguing Draco's mind was overcome by his obvious want of her. He just didn't care at the moment about her blood.
"The pleasure's all mine," she said, almost honestly, clasping his hands and then letting them go. "I'll see you later," she said promisingly. "I have to go, unfortunately," she whispered. "See you around."
Draco was looking the most peaked that he had looked since he saw her in his compartment as she stepped outside, rather pleased with herself. She was going to have fun here at Hogwarts- she could tell.