Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Notes: This work will be mostly about sexual themes on the darker side, such as domination and manipulation. If you don't like such themes, you shouldn't read them. And lemons, lots and lots of lemons. This story will contain dark themes like killing and rituals.

Running through the narrow corridor, I kept my back against the wall as I dodged spells and took down the men who stood in my way. "Sanguinem mittere!" "Zipped!" "Os ruptor!" (bone-breaker)! The spells whizzed past me, but I was quick on my feet, narrowly escaping each one.

Their reluctance to use powerful spells in such a tight space was surprising. They were afraid that the house might collapse and damage their precious products. Malfoy's tight leash on them was evident, as even in a fight for their lives, they subconsciously followed his orders. I couldn't decide if their loyalty was commendable or their stupidity was appalling. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

"Bomba.."

As one of the wizard tried to cast a spell at me, his partner stopped him. But before he could react, I pulled the trigger, and a bullet lodged into his head. "F*ck!" His partner shielded himself just in time as I fired at his feet. I narrowly dodged the spell that he sent back at me and finished him off.

The wall next to me shook violently as the explosive spell hit the walls, and I could hear the angry shouts of the wizards outside. "Bombarda!" they yelled, determined to break through the walls and get to me. "Kill the bastard!" "Avada Kedavra!" Their voices were laced with greed, and I could hear them planning how to take my belongings and make a fortune for themselves. I guess even they figured that Lucius would just kill them in anger, so they were going to pull a runner after killing me. Suddenly, I sensed danger.

I scrambled to find cover behind the wall, but it was no use. The wall blew up, and I was sent flying across the room. I was already at my limit, but I managed to throw my gun in the way of the killing curse, watching it get destroyed in the process. They were bewildered by my move, seeing 'a muggle' outsmarting their unblockable curse shocked them.

Their shock was short-lived, as I swiftly took them out with my pistol. The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the room as I fired round after round, taking them down one by one. I stepped over the bodies and walked towards the stairs, where I could hear some voices. Throwing my last grenade on the second story, I took a breather by the stairs while chugging down a numbing potion.

Breathing heavily, I took a moment to assess the situation. My clothes were tattered, and I was covered in bruises and cuts. The corridor was a mess, with broken furniture and debris littering the floor. The smoke was thick, making it difficult to breathe, and my eyes were still watering. Blood was dripping down my clothes.

"Focus"

I steadied myself and made my way upstairs with a pistol in hand.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I was immediately greeted by thick smoke. My eyes watered, and I could barely see anything in front of me. I could only make out a single door leading against the wall. I leaned towards the door, kicked it in, and crouched, ready to roll in. I could hear the sound of a spell being cast, and I braced myself for impact. I barely dodged the cutting curse that nicked my ear, feeling the heat of the curse as it flew past me. Just as I finished rolling, I shot the assailant, watching him fall to the ground.

As I surveyed my surroundings and honed in on my sense of hearing, the only sound that reached my ears was the rhythmic crackling of the fire. I knew I was finally alone. However, just as my body began to unwind, the pain that had been lying in wait pounced on me from all directions. I could feel the remnants of magic seeping from my wounds as my blood dripped down and pooled on the ground below me. The pain was almost unbearable.

The realization hit me like a truck. All the preaching about not using magic went down the drain when my blood started dripping everywhere. "Fuck." They could easily collect my blood, track me, or even worse, find my location.

As I lay there, I contemplated how this entire process sounded easy in my head, a former mercenary coming in guns blazing and taking out a wizard. But the reality was far from it. Once the wizards increased in number and became more cautious, it became a fight for survival. I knew that only my physical enhancement ritual had saved me. My enhanced reflexes and agility allowed me to stay ahead of their spells and keep moving. My key to success was their initial disdain for my supposed mugglerly, my enchanted guns, and my magical sense that helped me anticipate and dodge incoming spells. However, their increasing caution and number ultimately caught up with me.

I had originally thought that I would not get injured, and therefore never took into account that my blood would be spilled. Now, I have to use magic to erase my blood and then think of ways to mask my magical signature.

Pushing myself up, I looked over in the room and spotted containers and different packages. Figuring out that they were some esoteric artifacts, I extended my magical sense to feel the runes or wards around them, studying them carefully. Despite the exhaustion and pain, I knew that I had to press on and complete my mission. Maybe these artifacts could provide a solution for me.

Taking my wand out

I began casting cleaning and healing spells on myself to remove the grime and dirt from my wounds and patch myself up. However, I soon realized that I wasn't healing as quickly as I had expected. I had assumed that the ritual would enhance my healing, but it didn't seem to be working. Although these injuries would typically take less than two or three days to heal on their own, I had been hoping for an instant recovery. Still, beggars can't be choosers.

After tending to my injuries, I walked over to the artifacts and scanned them. Some were rare, but mostly just generic cursed objects intended to harm or be used as family collections or for study purposes. Malfoy mostly used these artifacts to transfer all over Europe, fulfilling favors, catering to friendships, and selling them. Most of them were from long-lost arctect, dead families, or stolen.

Vanishing my blood from the floor, I went downstairs to check other rooms while also vanishing any blood spots I saw, whether they were from the bodies around them or my dropped blood. Opening the next room, I started gathering all the artifacts I could find. After finding most of the artifacts, I started breaking the runes that made them inflammable and cast an "Agni" spell on them.

This mission was a total dud. I had a close call with death, found out I was not as invincible without magic and wasted all the artifacts I could have used in the future. Now, I had to burn them to mask my magical signature.

I still had one last stop before heading home or even canceling that trip in case the Aurors were already on the case to find the culprits.

Daily Prophet

Terrorist Attack on Britain Soil

Malfoy Family attacked. Is Dark Lord Back to exact Revenge?

(By Robert Huggins)

The year has been nothing short of eventful for our nation, with the Azkaban Breakout and the Famous Case of Barty Crouch Jr. But just when the dust seemed to settle, tragedy struck. Lord Malfoy, a prominent and respected member of our community, was targeted in a terrorist attack that claimed the lives of several innocent individuals. The attackers, believed to be followers of You-Know-Who, targeted Lord Malfoy due to his unwavering stance against the Dark Forces.

In response to this heinous act, Minister Fudge has promised the nation that the perpetrators will be brought to justice. The Daily Prophet stands firmly with Lord Malfoy during this difficult time and hopes that justice will be served swiftly. Our thoughts and support are with Lord Malfoy and the victims' families affected by this senseless violence.

(Sirius POV)

Throwing the newspaper away, I snorted at the mention of "stance against Dark Forces." However, a grin split across my face as I imagined Malfoy's morning would be, although I couldn't imagine it being any better than mine.

"Mmmphhh!" a muffled moan came from beneath the table. As I enjoyed a morning blow job from the crazy witch, I exhaled a little. I pulled her hair and jerked a little, my full length going into her mouth as I bottomed inside her mouth. When I looked down, I noticed that she was drooling, and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.

Yeah, definitely a better morning than Malfoy's, or maybe not.

Days later, after the attack

(Francis Crabbe POV)

Worrying about your boss is a good part of being a minion. Oh, how he wished he was still in Hogwarts. All he had to do was stand still and look mean behind Lucius, just like his son would do in the future. But now, the future was looking unlikely.

Looking at the guests who came to Lucius' dance ball, he could delude himself that nothing had changed. But he couldn't unsee the hidden gazes being sent to the Malfoy family or the forced smiles Lucius gave to people who came to him. After the war, Lucius had positioned himself to have a large amount of wealth and influence, which he used to make more wealth. But as he infringed on other people's businesses, he made a lot of enemies, whether from the first war or those who felt threatened by his growing business. Before, all they could do was look and wait in shadows, never having a chance to seek revenge.

But now, a change had come. Someone had attacked and badly destroyed the infallible image Lucius had built. Just like hungry Nundus, they smelled blood. Each day the perpetrator remained free, the chance of retaliation became increasingly high.

With a deep sigh, he thought back to the scene, or rather, the utter devastation that had taken place. One of the buildings had been completely blown to smithereens, leaving behind a haunting scene of carnage, with carcasses and ashes scattered everywhere. The once-beautiful magical garden that had supplied potion ingredients for everyone was now gone, destroyed beyond recognition.

It was most likely a magical Bombarda or some variation of it that had caused such destruction. The research team was still speculating whether it was a new spell or simply a cock-and-bull story of a Muggle bomb. The idea that Muggles could be capable of such destruction seemed impossible, yet the evidence suggested otherwise.

The claim of a "Muggle bomb" began to gain some credence as the researchers turned their attention to the other facility. It was discovered that the artifacts were not stolen but rather burnt and blown up, their remains scattered among the debris. What was even more disturbing was the discovery of Muggle bullets on the dead wizards and explosives, indicating that this may have been more than just a magical attack. The thought that Muggles could have been involved in such a violent act was unsettling, to say the least.

The order had been passed down from the higher-ups in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Ministry: make no claims of Muggle involvement. Doing so would risk inciting riots or, worse, attacks on Muggles. The mere thought of Muggles being responsible for the attack incensed Lucius to the point where he wanted to lash out and attack random Muggles, but he knew he couldn't, not with Aurors on strict watch.

So Malfoy invited all the wealthy and influential families for a "supposed" get-together to show that the attack had not weakened the Malfoy family's position. But how many of them believed it was another matter altogether?

Taking a sip of his wine, he spotted a rotund man chatting with Malfoy. He didn't recognize the man as British nobility, but he could see a little composure break from Malfoy's calm face during the conversation. He wondered what it was that had caused the usually unflappable Malfoy to show even the slightest hint of emotion.

peep the p*treon for advanced chapters.

/

fanficswrittenbyme25