I own nothing but the plot. Characters are property of JK Rowling. Thanks.
Prologue
The younger man took a step toward the elder, and forced a sly grin onto his face. The elder returned a toothless smile in return. Somehow he felt that he recognized the man in front of him, as if they met only in passing. Blinking away the thought, he turned his eyes upward and opened his mouth to speak. The elder hushed him quickly with a forceful kiss. The younger of the two let out a soft moan–a moan of disgust. He knew he shouldn't be here. He had been in this type of situation before, but something was very different this time. He did not feel safe.
"I can't stay here," he said after pulling away from the elder's embrace. "Thanks anyway." What else should he say? He owed no one an explanation. The elder grunted a reply that wasn't heard. Once the younger man's back was turned, he heard the rustling of clothing behind him. He quickly looked over his shoulder in time to see a flash.
"CRUCIO!" yelled the elder. The younger man let out a strangled scream as he felt his body contort and twist. He writhed on the floor, pleading for his life. He cared less if he was killed at that point, as long as the pain ended. The curse was then lifted after only a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity of excruciating torture. The elder had stated another curse, but the younger man didn't hear it. He felt himself stand, but couldn't remember deciding to do so. His eyes closed once he felt a set of chapped and grimy hands on his neck, trailing slowly down his torso, and began to lift his shirt. His mind was racing, and it wasn't until his belt buckle was being undone that he realized he had been placed under the Imperius curse.
"No!" yelled the younger man, fighting against the curse. When it was finally lifted, he became light-headed and stumbled backwards. Another curse was shot at him, but he missed it as he fell to the floor. Reaching into his own pocket, the younger man grabbed his wand and held it out in front of him. "Immobulus!"
The elder rocked slowly back and forth with his hand extended into the air, balancing on one foot in a running stance. The younger man scrambled to his feet, retrieving his shirt from the floor as he stood. He hastily put it back on, and then stared at the figure before him. He had several options. Should he leave? Or should he place a series of curses upon this man, destroying him within an inch of his life and ignoring his pleas as the elder had done to him? The decision really wasn't difficult . . . once he figured out who this man was. His eyes widened with realization, and he backed up several steps, as if the man would break out of the curse.
And then he did it. The younger man delivered one blow to the elder's head. The elder hit the ground with a thud. Taking several steps forward, he stared down at the man on the ground. A pathetic mass laid before him, a man who did not deserve to live. Raising his foot into the air, he delivered another blow. Through the tough exterior of his boot, he felt the crunching of bones.
Again.
Rage surged through his veins, stronger than the pureblood ancestry of even the most powerful wizarding family. The man was surely dead, but the younger man wasn't convinced.
Again.
His foot fell with more force than the first time. The skull had cracked, and blood was spattering onto the grubby wooden floor. He felt his heart jump as he remembered the pain he endured only moments earlier.
Again.
Any reminder of whom this man could be through his facial features was now destroyed. His face was a muddled mess of blood and bone.
Again, and again.
The number of times the younger man's boot had crushed through the elder's skull had tripled before he finally stepped back and caught his breath. He leaned against the wall as tears flowed freely from his eyes. He didn't bother wiping them. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out all the money he had–one galleon, seven sickles, and twelve knuts. Enough for a new pair of boots, although clearly not a very good pair.
He glanced one last time at the disfigured face of the elder who lay on the ground. The younger man then wiped his eyes, and stepped over the body. Without looking back, he opened the front door, and walked out, shutting it behind him.
There you have it! Please read and review! :) I promise, it'll all make sense in a few chapters.
