Hi all, here is the second chapter of this fic, like i said in the previous chapter this does jump around a bit so this chapter starts in seventh year.

Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just Nataylia.

Please Read and Review.

Also there might be some issues with the timing and the years so please keep that in mind.

Face-To-Faceless

Chapter 2-Losing My Religion

It's 7th year at Hogwarts, the clouds of war have gathered and the world is on the brink of madness. Lily Evans and James Potter are making decisions this year and so are Nataylia and Antonin. At the end of this year the world and their lives will never be the same.

By the time 1977 had come around the world as the students of Hogwarts had known it had as Sirius Black had confessed one day in potions, 'Gone to Shit'. It was something that not even the students of Slytherin house could disagree with that. It seemed the whole school was discussing the actions of the Death Eaters a group who moved with a single purpose…death…they worked for the man calling himself Lord Voldemort. Of course if you read the Prophet that was all subjection because nobody had ever seen him before. But the men and woman in masks with skulls burned into their skin were very easily identifiable and in the case of Evan Rosier very easily arrested.

"Idiot" Antonin Dolohov said with scorn curling around his lips one summer day, cigarette clamped between teeth in the shade of a beech tree. He was sat there leaning against a tree eyes on the lake. It was usually the place where Potter lusted after that (admittedly good looking) mudblood Evans. But Potter and Evans and their annoying little love story had come to pass at Christmas and now the two of them were together and Antonin was watching from the shade of the beech tree a young woman who was of far better blood (and far better looks though he would never admit it) dump her bag on the grass, kick off her boots and socks and then dip her feet into the edge of the lake her dark hair flying loose from it's messy plait and giving her a rumpled appearance that was just doing things to him.

Nataylia Greengrass hiked her skirt up a little bit more around her slim hips and Antonin caught a look of the creamy skin of her knee and the supple skin of her upper thigh before he was rudely interrupted by the slow and supremely irritable drawl of Lucius Malfoy.

"Of course his father got him off well enough"

That was true but Antonin was not going to give Lucius the satisfaction of telling him that. Janus Rosier had not been impressed to find his son in the clink after murdering an entire street of muggles and torturing the two idiotic wizards who had tried to stop him. Fortunately the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a right easy buy off and after a considerable amount of money had changed hands Evan had been banished off to France to spread the Dark Lord's bidding overseas and to get out of trouble.

"Apparently" Lucius continued apparently either unaware or uncaring that Antonin was trying to see the face of that stupid Ravenclaw seventh year asking Greengrass a question (so he could hex it into oblivion), "He was furious"

With a difficulty that he most certainly did not want to name Antonin dragged his eyes of Nataylia and onto Lucius. There was only one 'He' in anyone's vocabulary nowadays. He raised an eyebrow and Lucius continued without being asked.

"He called Evan too him, you know Evan is now one of them and apparently he was furious. He wanted to keep the actions of the Death Eaters in secret and now of course the Auror's have figured out how they are communicating. The torture was said to be…impressive."

"Shit"

"Indeed my friend."

There was a pause as Antonin took that in and then shook his head. It was Rosier's fault he was sure. He was always so puffed up and delighting in the fact that when he became of age three months ago he had gotten the mark. And he was stupid enough to get caught. He thought but he didn't say it (certainly not to a gossip like Malfoy) that he would ensure that he was never taken alive. When they came for him, whatever side it was on—and he knew what side he would be on in the end—he was going to make damn sure that he was killed. Azkaban was not something that he wanted to face in the near future.

"You should go" he said finally. He was not in the mood to deal with Malfoy and without even knowing he knew the very thing that would distract him.

"Narcissa's just finished her runes lesson hasn't she?"

Malfoy with a wink disappeared. Antonin waited until he was gone before he let his face fall leaning backwards against the tree. He was hungry to get started, eager almost to get the mark on his arm and the wand in his hand. There had never been a cause more than this, something he wanted more than this and it was more than the desire to crush mudbloods and muggles and filth under his boot.

He couldn't be his father, forgotten and gossiped about and treated like he was some kind of social mockery in the Pure-Blood world. He couldn't be a footnote on the page of wizarding history. He had to go down as something other than a student forgotten by everyone. It was half believe and half glory and arrogance thrown in and he had come to realise that the hard way as many youths do when they transition from teenagers to young adults.

And now he realised that he wanted someone with him when he did this. When he burned the world down in the service of something greater. And he wanted the one woman who had confounded him since he was fifteen at his side. He wanted Nataylia Greengrass.

He was pulled out of his musing by a shadow that fell over him and he looked up to see the woman herself standing in front of him. He stared upwards and she looked downwards and Antonin had a sudden premonition where he realised that he looking up at her, happy to do so and would do it for the rest of his life.

"Antonin" she drawled.

"Nataylia" he replied.

Her beautiful face was cold and pointed and almost a mask but then as he stared at her with an expression that was almost feral he knew she seemed to break a little. She had been doing that lately getting that strange soft look on her face when she looked at him. She dumped her bag and sat down and he could see she was still barefoot on the grass and her toenails were painted black.

"He's asked me again" she said finally. "Formally this time. And I want to say yes but the second I do everything is going to change. I never wanted to be in a war. I hear Bellatrix speaking sometimes and the way she talks about…well…it's like she's in love with him, like she'd go to Azkaban for him in a heartbeat. And it's disturbing because…well…you know Bellatrix, love is hardly a word that you would say is in her vocabulary. And…"

She turned to look at him here her lip folded beneath her teeth and Antonin had a sudden urge to pull that lip out from under her teeth and suck on it with his own. It was strange the impulsive urges that he was getting that he was finding so unnerving. He had never felt like this for anyone and had never really wanted to. All of his life he had been prepared to enter the service of the Dark Lord and he had always assumed that he would do it alone.

"What has your father said?" he asked finally. She rolled her eyes. "Father wants me too of course" she said with an indulgence in her tone. "And if I was being honest I would rather it be me than Cyrus. Cyrus will say no and nobody in the family needs that. And…and I do believe in the world that he is trying to build. I do think the mudbloods need to be stopped and the muggles need to know that we exist. I do think that there needs to be a better world. And Dumbledore for all his talk is an old man. And he doesn't want to change the status quo. I do. I want to go down in history as something other—"

"Other than a footnote" he continued for her. He wanted to say that he knew how she felt, that he felt it with her and that this dark swirling void of emotion that he didn't want to name was all for her and that since she had been fifteen and they had been young and arrogant and craving attention he had wanted her.

She looked at him and Antonin was sure he could have drowned in her eyes right there and then. He didn't even care about how soppy that made him or how disgustingly like Malfoy he was acting at the minute.

There was a crashing and a laughing and then James Potter came crashing through rudely interrupting their meeting hand in hand with Lily Evans. Antonin felt his lip curl.

"Don't worry" Nataylia said with a curl of her own lip that was magnificent and for Antonin at least slightly arousing.

"We were just going"

She walked past both of them her head held high and Antonin snarled.

"Dolohov" she called and he got to his feet eyeing James Potter who was eyeing him back both of them desperate for a fight and yet neither one of them wanting to go down as the man that made the first move.

He had just got to the outer area of the grounds before he heard a snort.

"Merlin she's all but tamed him, never thought a cold, unfeeling death eater wannabe would do that"

He snarled turning around wand in hand but Nataylia was pulling him backwards with that same blazing expression she had, had etched on her face when they had been in that compartment two years ago and the world had been sleeping and now it was awake and primed for war. She dragged him backwards until they were in the empty classroom of the transfiguration corridor.

"How dare he" he seethed uncaring that she had locked the door and was placing charms over them so nobody could enter or hear them—which with his rage was probably a good thing—and was suddenly perched on the desk watching him with that feral look, that blazingly dark look that made him want to bring her James Potter's head on a stick. He had no idea how he had developed feelings for such a complicated woman but he had and he wanted nothing more but her and for the two of them to bring the world to it's knees in the service of Lord Voldemort.

"How dare he!" he shouted and with a bang the shutters came down on the window bathing them in some kind of darkness and Nataylia watching him waved her wand her expression smooth as porcelain in the dim lights she had created.

"Ignore him" she said finally. "When you have that mark everything will change. He's a nobody Dolohov, a nobody whose best friend is a blood traitor and who is shacking up with a mudblood since when did you care about the little people like that?"

"When they insult you"

It came out before he could stop himself and she knew it because her eyebrows raised. For a second she stared at him and then she seemed to come to a decision that he didn't know and didn't know how to stop. He wanted to tell her everything and then hand her the knife to gut him with afterwards.

"Well then" she said her voice smooth. "I guess then we'll have to make chaos together then. And fuck the world and the Dark Lord and the mudbloods and all of it. Let's go create carnage together"

There was a pause as Antonin stared at her and she cracked a laugh tilting back her head so that the pale skin of her neck was exposed and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to sink his teeth into the soft exposed flesh of her throat and to mark her as his as much as the mark going on her arm would make her the Dark Lord's. And as much as he was the Dark Lord's servant he was too much this woman's who had looked at him with distain and told him she was better than him and had made him believe it. He had fallen for her then and as the storm of the world ripped apart above them he wanted her.

"Good grief Antonin" she said finally as if she could read all of that through his expression—actually she probably could—"Are you fucking blind?"

And with that he launched himself at her yanking her downwards so that his mouth was on top of hers and they were moulding their lips together so utterly desperate that he didn't care that he had staggered onto the nearest desk and her legs were around his waist.

He didn't care they were in a classroom and she ripped off his shirt and dug her nails into his skin. He didn't care that anyone could walk by or that James Potter was telling all of his friends that Antonin Dolohov had walked away from a fight when her shirt came off and he saw creamy pale flesh frame with a black lace bra and when he entered her he cared for nothing but her, nothing but the woman in his arms who was moaning like a whore and swearing his name.

Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all but this woman in his arms, this feeling that he was chasing, the high he always wanted.

Nothing.

Nobody.

No one.

Not even Lord Voldemort.

And there it is, let me know what you think, i am back at work but hopefully i will update sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-It's the start of the war and Antonin's already gotten his mark. Nataylia gets a taste of Death Eater life before she must make the decision on weather or not to get hers.