QLFC Season 10 Round 10: I'll take a gamble with luck

Main prompt: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory- Write about a character trying to correct their flaws

Interpretation approved by Mods: Discovering that what you perceived is a flaw isn't actually a flaw at all".

Additional prompt:

1. [Word] Abject

2. [Song] A hazy shade of winter

Word count: 2970

Warning: Death, terrorism, mass slaughter,

Antonin Dolohov had broken out of Azkaban a few days ago. He had never thought he would finally see the world outside the walls of the impenetrable prison fortress, but... here he was, fifteen years later. It had taken a long time, but he was finally free! It had been silly of him to think he had forgotten how to kill. It had been too easy to slaughter the everyone in the hospital and some Aurors who had been foolish enough to try to apprehend him.

"The world is still so full of overconfident fools," he chuckled darkly. "They sent the young Aurors who were still wet behind their ears to stop me? They should've sent members of the Order. They dare to look down on me just because I've been locked away for fifteen years?"

"I'm sure no one dares look down on you," Corban Yaxley replied dryly as he looked down on the wizard who was sitting on the pier. "You're a Death Eater and the gifted apprentice of a legendary charms master."

"That is in the past. Don't bring it up again, Corban," Dolohov warned softly as he stared at the setting sun. "I don't need a master who... doubted and abandoned me."

"Did he really abandon you?" Corban asked casually as he shrugged carelessly. "Even today, the Order still doesn't know the truth about the Prewetts. You know, Flitwick hasn't helped the Order actively since you were thrown out and conde-."

"It doesn't matter!" Dolohov interrupted sharply. "That is all in the past. Leave it buried. Get us some food; I'm hungry."

"Get it yourself," Yaxley sneered. "If you can slaughter hundreds of people on your own, you can get your own food."

"I don't have any money," Dolohov replied coolly. "Unless you want me to kill them and leave you with even more paperwork to do at the Ministry, I suggest you get the food."

"You're lucky that you're my best friend," Corban said as he walked away. "Anyway, I just thought you should know that he still thinks about you."

"It doesn't matter," Dolohov whispered as he listened to the retreating steps of his closest friend. He had just broken out of Azkaban and he had returned to killing. The Dark Lord had wanted to show the world that his forces had returned, so it was futile to resist him. Dolohov, without waiting for any orders or instructions, had viciously massacred the hospital.

Dolohov stared at his hands. Once upon a time, he had fought for the Order, defended the weak and defenseless, and killed the enemies of the Order... but he was the only one who was loyal and truly defending its honor. Now, he was the Death Eater who killed everyone without discrimination to their blood status. If they were not useful to the Dark Lord, Dolohov would kill them. He spared none of them. He had no patience to be compassionate or sympathetic towards the powerless and insignificant. The weak and feeble had no place in the world that the Dark Lord envisioned.

"Are you lonely?"

Dolohov blinked and turned slowly to see a child sitting beside him. A child who definitely looked too young to be wandering alone. Concern twinkled brightly in the innocent brown eyes.

"I'm not," Dolohov answered softly as he looked away and hid his hands in his pockets.

"I'm Sarah!" the child exclaimed proudly as she sat beside Dolohov. "Are you waiting for someone?"

Dolohov looked at Sarah and sighed. The girl sat too close to him, and he wondered if she could sense the cloak of death surrounding him. "I'm... Tony," Dolohov lied as he rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the water. "Yes, I'm waiting for someone."

"Me too!" she exclaimed as she opened her small satchel and retrieved a sealed cookie. "Why don't we share this while we wait?"

Dolohov glanced at her as she struggled to break the cookie in half. Cookie crumbs fell over her dress when she finally succeeded. She handed him one half of the cookie. "Who are you waiting for?" she asked as she ate her cookie.

"My father - I mean, my professor. My mentor," Dolohov answered softly before he shook his head and chuckled bitterly. What was he thinking? The part-Dwarf was his past and had no place in his present or future. There was absolutely no chance the man would ever want him back, especially since they now fought on opposite sides of the war.

He, like the rest of them, would never learn the truth. He would never forgive me for the crime I did not commit. What a pity.

Dolohov sighed and bit into the cookie. "I suppose I'm just waiting for the only person who truly appreciates my existence—the most insufferable man who is unfortunately my closest friend," he laughed mirthlessly. "What about you? Who are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for a family and a home," she answered happily as she stared at the sky. Her youthful face glowed with an innocence only found in children. Her eyes sparkled with hope. "I want a dad who is like Harry Potter and fights evil!"

Dolohov looked at her silently. Once upon a time, he had the same dream – to fight for the weak. His compassion and moral compass demanded he shield the weak and defenseless. His honor demanded he do that… but what good was honor and compassion if it made it easier to be stabbed in the back? Compassion made him weak; it was the chink in his armor, and they twisted the knife through that flaw. He had been devoted to the code of the Order… he was a defender and protector.

It's in the past! It doesn't matter. What's done cannot be undone.

Dolohov clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. It was true. He would show them. He would make them pay the price for spitting on his honor. If they could not appreciate his compassion and mercy, he would make them tremble before his ruthlessness.

"That's why Antonin Dolohov, the Death Eater, is feared," he muttered under his breath. "The one who kills without discrimination. The one who spares no one. Compassion... it was what made me weak. It was the reason I was disgraced and betrayed."

This one is useless! Kill her! She is unworthy to live in the new world that the Dark Lord is creating.

Dolohov glanced at the girl. He should really kill her. There was no reason for him to let her live... except her eyes intrigued him, and for that, he would let her live for just a while longer. "Where are your parents?" he asked.

"Mommy and Daddy left early," she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes. "But I'm a big girl now. I can... I can..." Her voice faltered as her tears fell. Her tiny hands clenched and trembled as her voice broke. "I can... take care of myself. I'm not... I'm alone!" She sobbed, her words choked by her tears.

Before he fully comprehended what he was doing, Dolohov had wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She grasped fistfuls of his clothing and sobbed. He remained silent as he listened to her tears. He should have known that there was an abyssal despair hidden within her large, innocent eyes... for he had seen that type of eyes in a young man once upon a time.

There was a young, sympathetic man who had a lot of hopes and ideas to make society a better and safer place. He had always been quick to rescue and defend the weak and defenseless. He had been compassionate toward the miseries of others and taken upon himself to defend them. He had been loyal to his allies, and was always the first at the scene to assist them...but he was so foolish to believe everyone in the Order of the Phoenix shared his same camaraderie and loyalty to the code of honor of the Order.

When it happened, he had murdered the Prewetts only because they had turned against the Order and joined the Death Eaters. They were traitors, but they were celebrated as heroes. When the Order were expected to be impartial and righteous, they had been quick to denounce him for murdering the nephews of one of the most powerful and richest supporters of the Order. The Order had thrown him out, sworn to kill him. His compassion and loyalty were forgotten and ignored, and he became the Betrayed. He fought for them only to be stabbed and maligned by them. In his abject misery and rage, the young man decided he would never be loyal and sympathetic to the plight of others. He would never be compassionate and defend the weak. He would never play hero again. He would stand alone. He would be loyal only to himself. He would never allow a "righteous" trait to be a chink his armor.

"You only need yourself, Sarah. Trust only yourself," Dolohov whispered as the intense feelings of the past resurfaced like a torrent. He had been so foolish to believe he had locked and forgotten his rage at being wrongfully denied. Perhaps...that was what made his time in Azkaban more tortuous. To hear the traitors being celebrated as unfortunate heroes who died too early while he was denounced and punished severely for killing them.

"That sounds so lonely," she said sadly as she looked up at him. "Are you crying?" she asked. "Don't cry, Tony."

Dolohov touched his face and felt the wetness on his cheeks. He sighed loudly. It had been a long time since he felt his tears. When was the last time he cried? The day he was hunted out of the Order, and he had crossed paths with... Dolohov sighed loudly. He was not a child. He should not be crying over the past. He was a feared wizard. In a world that was ruled by strength, he had nothing to fear. There was nothing that could hurt him. He was being childishly foolish to allow grievances of the past to haunt him. "I'm not crying," he denied as he looked at her. "Tell me more about your dreams. What is the future you see?"

"I don't know," Sarah said, her eyes twinkling. "But I hope to watch a Quidditch game." Sarah grinned at him and her eyes twinkled happily. "Do you like Quidditch?"

"I guess I used to play it when I was younger," Dolohov answered with a small fond smile. "I played Beater for one team. My best friend played Seeker for another team. He flew very well."

It was a long time ago, when they were still naive kids studying in Hogwarts. They were just simple boys who had aspired to be professional Quidditch players with a side passion for preserving nature. Yaxley had wanted to grow his own garden – given his natural talent for growing any magical plant. Dolohov had wanted to succeed his professor and care for the magical beasts. They were simple boys with simple dreams. Dolohov scratched his head as he wondered where it all went wrong. When did they lose their innocence? When did he become the merciless Death Eater who disregarded life? When did he enjoy slaughtering senselessly?

"Do I really enjoy killing?" Dolohov whispered as he stared at the hands that had viciously and heartlessly reaped lives away.

"You're too nice to be a killer," Sarah grinned as she looked at him.

"I'm Antonin Dolohov," Dolohov protested, blurting out his true identity as he stared at her confused.

"No way! You're Tony!" she laughed as she began nodding off. "You're not the scary wizard. The scary bad man kills anyone who stands in his way. He wouldn't sit here and share a cookie with me or comfort me. Thank you for being kind to me."

Dolohov stared at her in surprise before looking away. He felt confused and strangely conflicted. It was true. He would have killed her for even approaching him. He would have killed her as soon as he heard her approach him. Dolohov rubbed his face. "I'm kind?" he sighed heavily.

"No, you're self-centered," Yaxley chuckled as he crouched beside Dolohov. "Made a new friend?"

"No," Dolohov denied coolly.

"So, you let any child lean on you? What makes this one so special?" Yaxley smirked knowingly.

Dolohov remained silent as he looked away from Yaxley to glance at Sarah and then, to stare moodily at the water. "When did it all go wrong for us?" he muttered.

"Are you being sentimental?" Yaxley taunted. "Have you forgotten what they did to you? Have you forgiven them for denouncing you for a crime you didn't commit?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Dolohov sneered. "I was just thinking we should catch a Quidditch game for old times' sake."

"Of all the good things you could do," Yaxley chuckled as he shook his head. "You want to catch a Quidditch match?" He glanced at the girl sleeping beside Dolohov. "What do you intend to do with her? Just kill her quickly. She's too young to survive the war. She'll just suffer if she even survives this war."

Perhaps, I will give you a chance.

"I'm going to Hogsmeade Town," Dolohov suddenly declared. He stood up and scooped the child in his arms, adjusting his hood.

"Are you going to feed her her last supper? You're doing a lot for an insignificant existence that has no remarkable consequence to the war," Yaxley mocked as he fixed his hood and followed Dolohov to apparate to Hogsmeade Town.

Dolohov remained silent as they sneaked around the town. Finally, Dolohov entered an inn with a hanging sign of a bleeding wild boar. They entered the full but quiet tavern. Most of the patrons were hooded. After all, this was the rendezvous for most of the despicable and nefarious wizards. Dolohov shielded the child from their prying eyes as he made it to the brightly lit bar counter. Yaxley leaned on it and looked at all the patrons with a challenging smirk that promised pain for anyone bold enough to approach them. Beside him, Dolohov slammed a fist on the counter and the sound echoed in the quiet tavern.

"Oi! That's mahogany!" Aberforth Dumbledore snarled as he stormed toward the rude hooded wizard. "What do you want?"

Dolohov pulled the top of his hood down so that Aberforth couldn't see his eyes. "Do you have a room available?" he asked coldly.

If Yaxley was surprised by the request, he did not show it.

"We don't serve rude customers, so shoo!" Aberforth dismissed Dolohov sternly.

Yaxley sighed, turned, and dropped a large wallet on the counter. "One room... for a few nights," he drawled charmingly as he raised his head just enough for Aberforth to recognise him. "You can even sell information to anyone that I passed by."

Aberforth looked at Yaxley warily and then glanced at the hooded wizard. There was no doubt in his mind that the hooded wizard was also a Death Eater. "Fine, we will prepare a room for you," he said as he took the large wallet from Yaxley and set a key on the counter.

Instead of taking the key, Dolohov set the sleeping child on the counter. "The room is for her," he informed curtly. "Get her to an orphanage or something. We will pay for all expenses." Yaxley sighed heavily and dropped another large wallet onto the counter.

Aberforth looked from the two Dark wizards to the child and frowned. "You're telling me, you want to send this kid somewhere safe?" he asked incredulously. Yaxley smiled charmingly. Yaxley was not known to kill for fun, but that did not mean Yaxley did not kill. There was no doubt the hooded wizard was more dangerous than Yaxley. "Fine, I'll arrange for it."

The Dark wizards turned away, but Dolohov stopped momentarily to look over his shoulder. "If the short professor still comes here in the afternoons, tell him to stop coming. His apprentice will never return," Dolohov said softly. "The boy is walking his own path; the professor no longer needs to worry about the boy. The boy... I will be fine."

Aberforth stared dazedly as they left. He knew of only one short professor who visited the inn regularly – Filius Flitwick. Flitwick only had one apprentice… Aberforth stared wide-eyed. The Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov, who had just entered the inn to deposit a child and demand arrangements to keep it safe? Aberforth blinked rapidly. What in Merlin's name was happening?

Once they were outside, Dolohov stared at the inn and muttered, "We will see if luck favors Sarah."

"She better be worth the gold I paid," Yaxley grumbled as he turned toward the castle. "Do you want to visit? We're always welcome for visits."

Dolohov glared at the castle. He had been chased out of the castle after he killed the Prewetts. He had been condemned and attacked as they chased him to avenge the Prewetts. He swallowed thickly. "No, not today," he said softly as he walked away. "They will no longer have power over me. Antonin Dolohov, the member of the Order of the Phoenix, was not betrayed because of his compassion and loyalty. He was betrayed because he trusted the wrong people."

"Should I expect your kill count to drop significantly now?" Yaxley asked slyly as amusement danced in his eyes.

"Even the weak have dreams and hopes," Dolohov said, his lips curling slightly. "I wish to see whether fate favors their aspirations or the Dark Lord's desires."

"Interesting," said Yaxley, chuckling. "We shall see how the landscape of this war changes with your change of heart."