The dark figure sat alone in the back of the Unholy Tavern his silver eyes piercing the dark setting, eyes which held a gaze that could burn through flesh. He was waiting for someone, any onlooker could see that. His impatient shuffling and the constant drumming of his fingers made it so. Finally the man lifted his gaze to the doors and instantly they flung open and another figure clad in a wet heavy black cloak entered.

"Aye sir! What'll it be I get ye?" asked the bartender to the rain soaked figure.

"Strong ale," murmured the figure, slender blacked gloved hands reached into the cloak tossing out two silver coins onto the counter.

The man at the table slowed the drumming of his fingers. Then stopped. Slowly he raised his hand and in a quick gesture beckoned to the new arrival. The figure took notice and sat in front of the man.

"You made it," said the man, "took you long enough. I was here for nearly an hour."

"It's not easy finding the place," said the figure, who finally drew back her hood. Surprisingly it was a woman. Her skin was a pale crisp white and her hair was coal black. She acknowledged the men in the room who were starring at her with cold fusion. "Of all places why here?"

"Because," replied the man simply.

She raised her eyebrow questioningly but said nothing. The bartender came by with the ale and quickly left. More silence between them finally broken by her.

"You had a request for me? It must've been important since you spent nearly a year locating me in order to deliver this message. I want to know what it is."

The man was about to reply but she quickly silenced him, "First you must show me who you are. I don't like talking to hoods."

The man slowly lifted back his hood. Revealing a once handsome, now scarred face. His hair was blonde almost white and his eyes were cold hard silver. He had two long scars on his right cheek, giving him an aged look though he was still quite young.

"Ah. I wondered what happened to the infamous Death Eater known as Dragon. I'm surprised a persona of your prestige needs someone like me. What can I offer you great sir?" smiled the woman; there was a hint of mockery in her seductive yet icy voice.

"Don't you dare mock me woman!" he snapped, "These cursed scars are the only thing left of something that nearly destroyed me. You act as if you know things; you are a fool to speak that way!"

She stared at him curiously but remained silent, this left room for him to continue in a calmer tone, "You're an assassin, a mercenary. I want you to assassinate someone for me. Someone who might prove to be your greatest challenge yet."

Her eyebrows once again raised in intrigue, "And that is?"

"Harry Potter."

Her reaction was something he never would've expected, she turned deathly white and her eyes looked shocked.

"Assassinate him!"

"Yes."

She took two deep breaths and replied, "He is a hero, a man of greatness. I'm not refusing you on the contrary I think I'll accept it. But why? Other then the reason that he killed your master."

The man smiled a cold scornful smile and said, "Simply because he was my enemy. Throughout school and during the war. He ruined me and my family. He should pay. I know a very simple answer but it's more complex then that. But who cares for my reasons? Your task is simple. Kill him or at the least, cripple him enough for him to understand."

The woman placed her head on her hand, "What you're asking is simple. But hundreds of assassins tried to get to him and they all failed. Why do you think I can, do your job?"

"You're the Black Widow. The best." He stood up, "I'll pay you one hundred thousand galleons when you bring me his head. If you cripple him then your pay is half the total sum. I must be going."

She stood up also. Lifting her hood over her head, "Where can I find you?"

"You know where." CRACK! The man disapparated. She sighed and slipped out of the tavern.

On the table at the back of the room was a mug full of ale.