Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable characters or plot references. No copyright infringement is intended and I do not make any profit from this story.
A/N: This just hit me one day, so when I got back from holidays I started writing it. Its not as good as I had hoped or imagined, but its fairly good I hope. Let me know, anyway. This will be a multi-chapter piece. No slash. This is also more of a prologue/chapter 1.
That Feeling of Foreboding
The heels of his shoes clicked mercilessly in the oppressing silence offered by one of Muggle London's fewer visited streets, and the bitter edge to the cool midnight air did absolutely nothing to make the sound seem any less noisy, as the alley started to widen and the moonlight shone brilliantly through the gap creating an opening onto the street.
The long walk from the ministry was taking its toll, and the crisp gentleman pulled the collar of his long black coat up around his neck and to the base of his ears, cursing in a near whisper the light, feathery touch of foreboding that was tracing its way up and down his spine and the back of his neck.
As his paced quickened ever so slightly, the quick manoeuvred turn at the next corner gave way to the obvious trot of several almost silent footsteps not too far behind, and the young man squared his shoulders, hands searching for his wand in his pocket as he tried to act the part of the cold and oblivious gentleman.
The march continued for another five blocks, two turns in-between ensuring that the unwelcome visitor was still hot on the trail. With a dip of his head the man found himself moving his hand to brush an unruly blonde hair from his forehead, mentally cursing his stupidity of leaving his wand, and preparing to jump from an ambush within a matter of a second.
A sigh escaped unbidden from the blonde as he reached back into his pocket and gripped his wand reassuringly, drawing to a slow stop at the curb as if he was to check the street before crossing. His breath sent a wave of white, puffy condensation into the air, and as the man-made fog cleared lightly, he executed a turn perfectly, wand held high at the ready and a stunning curse on his lips.
The cloak shrouded figure deflected the curse and for a second the young man faltered, having to drop and roll out of the way as the death eater began the type of fight the blonde had been bred for his entire life.
"Stupefy!" as the death eater had deflected to the right, the blonde's curse hit him square on the shoulder blade and the robes locked tightly like limbs and fell to the ground. With a momentary advantage the young man crept forward, nearing the man by ten paces before seeing the small shift of a finger that sent the same tingling fear of foreboding back through his spine.
The robes sat up and the blonde smiled challengingly at the death eater and executed a bow, raising his head and ignoring the unruly piece of hair that tried to gain his attention before his eyes. The word 'pleasure' escaped his lips and the biting cold froze his words into a white smoke that seemed to billow in the air for a moment, and then as if suddenly realising the meaning of such actions, the death eater whipped his wand from his robed mess and began his spell.
"Avada-!" was all the young man heard before a resonating crashing filled his ears and the rush of apparating filled his senses.