Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Darkness Within The Light	By : crimson96 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8759 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Author Note: The characters in this chapter are original characters. They are characters that I created for this story, that I feel would fit well within the world of Harry Potter. The antagonist in this chapter will play a significant role in this story. Again, I owe much credit and thanks to my wonderful beat reader, Eris R. Lebeau. So everyone read and hopefully enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 4: Cause & Consequence

Many miles to the north of Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor, sat the small, sleepy muggle village of Kettlewell. It had been a quiet evening in the village, and a number of residents had turned in early for the night in preparation for the storm that approached. Watching from the doorway of his pub, an old man grunted a bit at the throbbing pain that had begun to flare within his bones. He watched the dark, puffy clouds trace across the nighttime sky hiding the moon at times.

"Yes, indeed we've got a mean gale coming up," the old man said. "I've been feeling it in me bones now for days." He glanced over at the stranger sitting at one of the tables. The old man had seen many different kinds of people come through his pub, but none of them compared to this individual. His instincts told him that this man was potential trouble, but being a businessman, the old man could not turn away a paying customer.

The stranger had walked into The Olde Kette Pub an hour ago, ordered his drink, and sat down at the table. He stared through the window at the street outside, grunting or nodding occasionally in response to the old man's questions.

Although he tried not to stare, the old man watched the stranger discretely, and had noticed several oddities about the man. He appeared to be young, probably around 30 or 35. Curly black hair, worn long and loose, draped down to the man's shoulders in thick, greasy locks. The stranger was wearing what appeared to be a long coat of some kind, although the old man wondered why a person would wear a coat in the middle of the summer season. The man had on black, leather gloves, and there was an aroma of smoke and burned ash coming from the man as if he had been sitting next to a fireplace. He held his left hand around the base of the glass while his right index finger tapped a soft, steady pattern on the table.

The old man found himself staring at the man, and he jumped when he heard someone call his name from across the street.

"Evening, Milo," he said, quickly recovering from being startled. If there was one person in this village that he was glad to see, it was his friend, Milo Mycroft. Milo had moved to the village a month ago, and had quickly struck up a good friendship with the old man. He was a regular customer at the pub, as he came in to have a drink at least once a day. Occasionally, the old man would see Milo and his wife walking along the village streets, and they would stop to have a conversation with the pub owner.

"Top of the evening to you, Joe. Mind if I come in for a drink? The little lady is having her bridge group over this evening so that puts me out of the house until they leave."

Joe placed his hand on Milo's shoulder and stopped him from entering the pub. "Watch your step in there mate, there's a queer fellow here that I got a bloody bad feeling about," he whispered into Milo's ear. They stood still for a few seconds before returning back to a more normal banter. Joe cleared his throat and said a bit too loudly. "I was about to start counting my stock for the night and close up, but as you can see I still have a customer here."

Joe led Milo into the cozy pub, and walked behind the counter. Automatically, he reached for one of the tall amber bottles he kept on the top shelf just for Milo. "Your usual mead, I presume, or do you require something a bit stronger tonight?"

"For tonight Joe, I'll take something quite strong," Milo said as he turned his head to look at the stranger. He leaned forward on his barstool, his shoulders hunched and stiff, his hands clutching his knees so hard that his knuckles whitened.

Something about Milo's posture reminded Joe of a dog with his hackles up, and the old man half-regretted frightening his friend with the warning about the stranger. Dirty hair and strange clothes certainly didn't make a man a criminal, did they? Joe tried to tell himself that the stranger was probably harmless, that the worst he would do was walk out without paying his tab, but even in Joe's mind, those assurances sounded unconvincing.

Joe placed the amber bottle back on the shelf, and reached under the counter for a bottle of scotch. Seconds later there was a full glass of scotch in front of Milo, as Joe made his way around the counter and to the front door. "Right, now I am closing up for the night. When I come back from counting me stock in the storeroom, I am going to ask you two gentlemen to leave out the back door then. Alright?"

The stranger nodded his head in assent, and continued to stare out the window as if fascinated by the gathering storm. Milo grunted agreement and took a drink of his scotch. Joe walked by Milo and nodded to his friend, as if in final warning about the stranger who was in the pub with them.

When the storeroom door closed, Milo slowly picked up his glass of scotch and slowly drank the liquid. Its taste was like fire to his lips as he cherished every single drop. His hands trembled slightly as they held onto the glass. If the man by the window was truly who Milo thought he was, the drops of liquor he had just licked from his lips might be his last. Slowly, he turned around to look at the man. The one mark of identification that he needed to see was in plain sight upon the top of the man's left wrist. The dragon tattoo stretched around a gleaming sword with its mouth open, and fire expelling outward onto the sword. Milo closed his eyes, thus allowing a flood of memories to come back to him. He could see it as if it had happened yesterday, the brutal slaying of his beloved Caroline by the man who now sat no more than a few feet away from him. He opened his eyes again and knew where his destiny lay. This once best friend, now an enemy, had fulfilled a promise from many years ago, and now the time had come to complete their journey.

Milo got up and walked across the room to the table where the stranger was. He sat down in the chair across from him and stared directly into the face. The black hair that fell below the man's forehead partially shielded those black eyes that he remembered from his past. The face that once carried a youthful and handsome appearance had been made pale and sallow by time's hand. The nose that Milo had broken in a playful duel still carried the crooked scars. The years had taken a toll upon the face, but Milo knew the features all too well.

"It's been a long time, Phillipe," Milo said in a low whisper. The man stopped gazing out the window and looked over his shoulder at the storeroom door.

"No sudden movements," Philippe spoke to Milo in a deep voice. He then produced a wand from his sleeve and waved it at the storeroom door. "Now, we can speak properly to one another." He winked and grinned.

"I knew that you would not forget our promise." Milo shook his head sadly. "I tried my best to disappear. Everywhere I went there was some sign that you were there or that you knew I was there. Finally, I gave up and decided to stay here. Something told me that it would not be long until you came." As Milo spoke he watched Phillipe's hand.

Phillipe looked at his wand and put it away inside his robe. "You needn't worry about that anymore, Milo, nor about our promise either. After tonight, you will have no more reason to fear."

"But it is a promise we made when we became Death Eaters, we cannot go back on it now," Milo stammered, "It was a blood promise that we made to the Dark Lord, and to one another."

"Voldemort is dead, and the Death Eaters are no more." Phillipe said, interrupting Milo. "I no longer work for him, and neither do you."

"But, I don't understand? Who, who do you work for?" Milo asked as he stumbled over the words that tried to escape his lips.

Phillipe grinned and looked at his former Death Eater. "I work for the next highest bidder, and business is bloody well good right now."

Milo swallowed as a single bead of sweat traced down the side of his face. He hesitantly asked his next question. "Well…well then if you are not here to carry out our promise then why are you here following me?"

"Can't an old friend still say hello, Milo?" Phillipe asked very casually. "By the way, that is a particularly lovely disguise that you have there pretending to be a Muggle, and having a Muggle wife." He drank from his glass, and continued on. "I never thought you would be the type of bloke to settle down, Milo."

"You know that you and I are not friends anymore," Milo said, as anger began to flush within his cheeks. His hand slowly crept to the breast of his jacket, where he kept his wand.

"Ah, now there you go bringing up the past again: it's bad business to do so," Phillipe mocked as he waved a single finger in front of Milo.

"Was it bad business years ago when you killed the only love that I ever had?" Milo shouted. "I should kill you where you sit!"

Phillipe stopped his mockery and became very serious. He leaned forward, teeth bared, and with his gloved hands pressed together so that the dragon tattoo was facing Milo. "If you think you can kill me, then you had better do it now. Otherwise I will take what you just said as a threat. We both know how I react to threats, don't we?"

Milo's eyebrows furrowed in anger while his right hand reached into his left chest pocket for his wand. "You son of a-"

A streak of silver flashed through the air. Milo inhaled sharply, gasping as he felt the sensation of metal cutting across his throat. His eyes darted around wildly. He clutched at the space on his throat that was now soaked with blood, as he gagged and sputtered. His eyes quickly found his nemesis one last time as a large bolt of lightning exploded across the sky outside. Milo slumped face down onto the table. As Phillipe sat there watching, he cleaned the blood off of his silver dagger and released the spell that had been placed over the storeroom door.

"Whew, I tell ya gentlemen, that sure was a loud blast of thunder out there. Thought for a moment that it had taken the pub with it." The old man cackled at his own words. "Now it's time to turn out for the ni..." Joe began to say, but stopped in mid-word at the sight before him. Milo Mycroft lay head down on the table. Blood had splattered onto the window, and had pooled on the floor below the chair. Joe stood rooted to the spot, frozen by the horror. His paper and clipboard tumbled weakly from his hands as he rushed over to the table. Carefully, he leaned Milo's body back against the chair. "God, help us!" Joe said, as he covered his mouth, aghast the grisly scene before him.

"God?" The word came from behind Joe, and he turned to see the stranger standing with his arm raised, holding what appeared to be a gnarled stick.

Joe backed toward the window, his heart racing, his feet slipping on the blood. The stranger looked terrifying to Joe, like some evil warlock from a children's story. He pointed the stick as if it were a firearm, and Joe's lips began to move in silent prayer.

The stranger's mouth curled into a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes. Light flared around him in a frightening halo, and the last words Joe heard were, "God has nothing to do with this."

"Muggles." Phillipe spat, kicking the old man's body to make sure he was indeed permanently silenced.

He walked over to the dead body of Milo one last time.

"I always keep my promises," he said, as he turned and apparated out of sight.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Darkness Within The Light