"Never Fight a Fair Fight."

Author Notes and Disclaimer:

I own only the original characters and the plot. Any relation or similarity with other characters and ideas are pure coincidence. All else is owned by people like J.K. Rowling and let's face it; I'm to poor to have to deal with that kind of a problem. The Harry Potter universe belongs to her, and I am just a fan trying to show my appreciation to her for giving us all a universe like this to play in.

This story was created in response Raven Dragonclaw's Dark Challenge on her Yahoo Groups list. (You are a servant of the Dark Lord Voldemort, loyal to his ideals and whims. Describe the trials of being a Death Eater. Must include humor - whether wacky or dry)

If you haven't read her stories I suggest you do, they are great. Also, she offered some help and advice with this story, and I just want to say thank you.

Lastly, since this is my first attempt at writing a story, I hope you the reader enjoy it. Please review and let me know what you think.

"Well Fuck."

Somehow, this one statement sums up my current situation. Here I am, one of only two Death Eaters still standing after a really bad raid on a muggle town. Me. Me, and someone I wish was actually dead like the other 3 people he brought. But no, here I am next to an idiot, facing four Aurors and suddenly realizing that I might have to use my single trump card to save myself.

Now, the irony of this situation is that I hate killing. In fact, I don't even think that muggles are that bad. Don't get me wrong, magic makes us individually superior, but the technology they have created can be down right scary. In fact, I use muggle gadgets every day. Always have. Ink pens and notebooks were apparently never seen before at Hogwarts. How then am I a death eater, you ask? Well that's a long story. Seeing as time has seemingly stopped as my compatriot fires the killing curse at the oncoming Aurors and I duck for cover in hopes of surviving this night, time is something I seem to have in abundance.

So, how did a muggle raised, technology loving, American-born, half-blood, and Ravenclaw-sorted Hogwarts Alumni become a servant of one of the most feared dark lords of all time. Simple. I love books. Always have. The rarer and more illegal the book, the more I loved reading it.

Maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Marie C. Smith. Yes, Smith. I am a researcher for the Ministry of Magic studying the creation and improvement of wards. You know, those spells that keep people from apparating, portkeying, accessing places they shouldn't, or muggles from seeing our world. Yes, that's my chosen field of study. Legal field, at any rate. Secretly, I am one of maybe half a dozen people on the planet studying how to create anti-magic wards, one of the most illegal types of ward due to the fact they prevent magic from working. Why are they so illegal you ask? Because they turn the most powerful of wizards into mere muggles. Nifty, huh?

Now, as for why I am a Death Eater, perhaps I should explain about my life. I am the daughter of a British wizard and an American muggle girl. Father died when I was two, and mother did her best to take care of me. When I turned eleven, I received one of those fabled Hogwarts acceptance letters. Now why would I be accepted to a British school rather than an American one? Because dear old dad went there, so I did too. The fact that Mom had just been arrested for breaking and entering and I needed to disappear before they could question me about my involvement also impacted my desire to change continents. What? I'm a Death Eater. You think we just wake up and decide to break the law?

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, I was sorted into Ravenclaw and thus the next day was introduced to the Library. Now to clarify a point, not all of my housemates were book-loving, always studying know-it-alls. Truth be told, most weren't. We just all wanted to learn. Me, however, had my nose in any book I could find for the next seven years. This didn't mean I had the best grades though. In reality, I just aimed for passing on all my test and papers, and spent the rest of time doing reading. During my fourth year, I began collecting books instead of reading them. Basically, I discovered three very important things about myself. One, I am damn good at sneaking around unseen by using invisibility and hiding spells; two, I found out how to break the copy write charms on the books in the library; and three, I enjoyed using a duplication charm to basically steal a copy of every book in the school. Me, the believed rule-abiding coward that never got in a fight in her life, was a thief. And a damn good one, in my opinion. Better than Mom anyway.

This is where things went downhill. I started to read all about the dark arts. They were forbidden and thus just demanded that I read them. I got fairly decent grades on the only tests I took seriously, my O.W.L.s, and N.E.W.T.s, and got a research job where I was somewhat happy. A little blackmail to get some clearance to read some of the more restricted material on the subject and I became quite content at my job.

This was until I was approached by a gentleman – well, a man – who offered me an opportunity unlike any other. He saw that I had no regard for laws when it came to what I read and practiced at home, and told me he would help me get every book I could possibly want for any project I chose. The only catch, I had to become a Death Eater. I figured, what the hell. Even Dark Lords need researchers to come up with newer and better ways of doing things. As long as I didn't have to go out and kill people or fight off dozens of Aurors, I had no problem with it. Makes my current situation seem almost funny now that I think of it.

Like I said, I hate killing and don't have any problems with muggles. But I'm also an opportunist and later discovered that in a pinch I'd be willing to do anything. Hell, I learned that I could do a lot when generally pissed off.

That's when it happened. I began seeing the faults muggles have. The prejudices, the hatred amongst themselves, the fact they couldn't do magic, etc. Still though, they make nifty gadgets that I still to this day use. In fact, that kind of became a major point for me. Unlike most Death Eaters who just wanted to rid the world of them, I knew what they could do.

My first Death Eater meeting happened about a week after I was recruited. To say it went well would be an understatement. Hell, to say it went bad would be an understatement. Apparently one of the higher up Death Eaters recognized me and pointed out both my parentage and upbringing. Several insults and even curses later I discovered that apparently I wasn't liked. By the end of the 'Initiation' I discovered that the feeling was mutual. I think I mentioned earlier that I don't like the idea of killing. Well, suffice it to say that that rule didn't mean I wouldn't have problems hurting people. After that night, I definitely wouldn't have a problem if they were purebloods with big mouths and dragon-sized egos.

By the next meeting I had learned my lesson. As mother always said, "Never fight a fair fight. If you have to fight, cheat." When the 'Initiation' started up again I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled my wand out and challenged the idiot bastard who had started the whole mess the last time to a duel. After all, he had hit me with the Cruciatus curse and I wanted to get even.

Now, I'm not the most powerful witch on the planet. In fact, I'm down towards the bottom. Seeing a short, petite blonde who was always seen as weak challenge one of the middle level death eaters, who was also masquerading as an Auror, to a fight kind of got everyone's attention. Hoping to make an example of me, he accepted.

Like I said, Mom told me never to fight a fair fight. So after we bowed and he stepped into a position preparing to cast a powerful dark curse I did something no one expected. I cheated. To be specific I pulled out a sawed-off 12-gauge shotgun and fired it into him. I fired a second shell afterwards just in case my aim was off on the first one. Turns out drawing a gun and drawing a wand take the same amount of time. Firing said gun, however, takes considerably less time than saying a spell.

Oddly enough, no one stopped me when I turned, declared myself the winner, and walked back out. The next day I was told, "Welcome to the Death Eaters," and given my first job. I was also asked not to come back to any meetings unless specifically summoned. Turns out, no one could figure out what I did, and most didn't want to tempt Fate.

This brings me back to the present. Apparently all Death Eaters must participate in raids. Something about ensuring loyalty due to all of us being guilty of crimes we don't want others to know about. You know, I-won't-tell-on-you-because-you-can-tell-on-me type thing. Today's assignment, attack some pointless random street in South London. Some relatively defenseless house near a wizarding family that apparently has some information Voldemort wants to scare them into giving him. By the way, if you can't tell by now, yes, I say his name. He's my boss for Christ's sake. That and I just don't get the whole He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named superstition. And Dark Lord, really. Just say his damn name.

Oh, remember me saying that the house was supposedly defenseless. Turns out it was a safe house being used by the London muggle police. Someone definitely needs to do more research before sending us on missions. Fortunately, there were only two police officers. Me being me, made sure I wasn't one of the first two in the door. To be honest I was the second to last, followed by our little group's leader. Several shouts, guns firing, and flashes of green light later we had two dead cops, and three dead civilians. Two of our group were now dead, thus reaffirming my position about why I never go first, and I looted the place for anything worthwhile as my other two companions took out their frustrations on the surviving muggle. Some guy, I didn't care really. I do what I am told, and in return I get to research what I want.

As we were about to leave we, or rather I, felt several wards go up around us. Good thing about studying the things, I know what they feel like. One quick expletive about not being able to apparate later we made a dash out the back of the house and towards a neighboring street. When we got there I realized two things: one, we weren't alone, and two, the Death Eater on my right had just gone down never to return.

Now here we are, time returns to normal and I land behind a wall to use for cover. Saying a quick prayer, I look up to notice that the Aurors are almost where I am, and one of them looks dead, as well as my other companion. So much for using the idiot as a shield.

Damn. I don't have any other choice. Either I get arrested, or I have to use the one thing I had been saving just in case I came up against someone like Dumbledore. Well, it should only take a year or two to replace it. Maybe I can make it better, improvements, you know.

Shit! They noticed me. It's now or never.

I pull out a medallion and whisper the words to activate the project I have spent the better part of ten years making. "Ashes to ashes." I feel the surge as the magic is released, and it cuts off any other magic in a 20-foot radius.

Smiling, I hear the Aurors trying to figure out why their shields fell and they can't use their wands. I know what happened. For the next five minutes, all magic within 20 feet of me doesn't exist. Granted the drain from my little toy will leave me weak and near helpless for the next few days, but right now it's worth it. For five minutes they get to be unarmed muggles, and I am still my mother's daughter. After all, she's currently serving a life sentence for gunning down two police officers in L.A. after robbing a convenience store.

Pulling out a 9 mm semi-automatic in one hand, and my sawed-off 12-gauge in the other I stand up. Like mother, like daughter.

"Here's to you Mom."

Please review and let me know what you think.