We've sent people into space without even really knowing
if there ever gonna come back down
and there are people asking
just where i am,
is it ok to be afraid of hope if you don't know how to keep it?

Charlie Simpson - down, down down

The house was a wreck; ripped wallpaper, upturned furniture and broken glass scattering the floor. The front door was hanging of its hinges giving the illusion that it had been forced from its frame. There were pictures blasted off the walls, mirrors smashed on the floor and windows with gaping holes in them. The lights were out, it was completely silent; everything around him pointed to a rather violent break in and if the blood dripping of the walls was a good enough hint someone had been badly hurt during the event.

Theo, however, didn't buy it.

He moved into the house silently and almost invisibly, knowing that his target was still very much alive somewhere in the ruined bungalow. He needed to be quick as he knew that he was not the only one visiting the man that night and he wanted to get in and out before they arrived.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, feeling with his magic for another heartbeat. Moving into the sitting room Theo looked around with narrowed eyes squinting through the dark at the complete and utter devastation that had been created in the tiny little bungalow. He couldn't make a mistake here. One wrong move could have him dead, another could give him a none-returnable ticket to Azkaban – he wanted neither. So, to avoid these little unwanted endings he had to think.

The man he wanted was in this room, he was probably armed but he knew that though the man had some fifty years more experience under his belt than he did himself he would be able to hold his way; it was what he was trained for.

His eyes flicked over the soot covered fireplace, the bulge that the ripped curtain was making and the large upturned drinks cabinet; all of which could be were his target was hiding. Just as he was about to take another step into the room however his eyes moved to the huge, overstuffed armchair: bingo.

Smirking he stalked forward on silent feet, eyes sparkling, and tapped the thing with his wand sharply.

Within a second the shabby, overstuffed armchair turned into a beefy, spluttering old man with very little hair.

Theo didn't give the man a chance to defend himself just flicked his wrist and summoned the man's wand into his own hand before standing straight and smiling cheerily at the gawking man.

"Horace Slughorn," he hummed, staring straight into the brown eyes of the old man, "You're a tricky one to track you know? It's taken me weeks to find you."

"Who are you?" Slughorn demanded, beads of sweat starting to form on his meaty forehead as he started at the man, (boy?) in front of him. He knew he'd been caught at last but he didn't think the man in front of him was a Death Eater. For one he wasn't wearing the costume instead wearing black slacks, a black hooded sweatshirt with the hood sending his face into shadow. The only thing he could clearly see was a pair of bright blue sparkling eyes which were so unnaturally bright he wondered if they were just an illusion.

"You don't know me," Theo said casually, not taking his eyes of the man who had little less than five minutes left.

Slughorn was obviously trying not to panic. His eyes were roaming over the room, trying to find an escape route, but then they flicked back to the wand pointed at him, "What do you want?"

"A lot of things really," Theo sighed wistfully, the manic grin still on his face, "But nothing you can provide."

"Who do you work for?" Slughorn screamed, panic overtaking him, and he threw all caution to the wind and made a mad dash to the window. He didn't make it, Theo let out a small chuckle and immobilised him sending the walrus like man flying with a loud crash as he fell to the floor.

Theo walked over, knelt down, and looked straight into the mans eyes, lowering his hood at last and allowing Slughorn to see that it wasn't even a fully grown wizard bringing about his death; it was an eighteen year old.

"I expected something better from you. You were so good at hiding; I just thought you'd be better at fighting. Hmm," Theo sighed, "Shame."

Slughorn couldn't reply though Theo was pleased to see his eyes flashed in terror.

Sighing Theo pulled out his wand and began his business. He usually liked to play a little, cause a little pain, but he didn't have time as he was pretty sure the visitors he was expecting would arrive in less than five minutes. Therefore Horus Slughorn's death was quick and relatively painless; one swift slice across his fat, meaty throat with a small black handled dagger and he was gone – chocking as blood poured onto the carpet.

Theo wasted no time in checking he'd left no magical signature or evidence that would point them in the right direction.

It was less than a second later that he was walking out the house and onto the deserted street. He was quick to pull out a cigarette as he walked away from the house to try and calm himself down. His heart was racing with the rush of taking yet another's life, he wanted to start giggling hysterically, he wanted to do it again and again and again. No one understood the sheer joy he got from taking another's life…


The noise could mean nothing other than someone apperating. Theo made sure to make himself as invisible as possible, backing into the corner of a house, the only thing that could draw attention to him was the slight amber end of his cigarette but he was sure neither one of the men would have sharp enough eyes to even see that.

He watched from the shadows as Dumbledore lead none other than the famous Harry Potter towards the house he had just left.

It was fair to say that Theo hated Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't like he had done anything personal too him, he doubted whether or not the man knew his name, but the man was so…twisted in his beliefs that Theo had a great desire to slide his dagger into his chest and twist till he stopped moving forever. He said he was all for the 'greater good' but all he was doing was trying to excuse his actions which, in some cases, were worse than even Tom Riddle could do. Dumbledore could die for all Theo cared and he hoped to hell it was on the end of his knife that he did.

Harry Potter on the other hand was a completely different story. He, and his bloody parents for that matter, annoyed the shit out of him. James Potter, Harry's handsome father, was one of the most renowned Aurors in the country and was constantly splashed over the papers after returning from some terrifying mission the ministry sent him on. Lily Potter was the Runes teacher at Hogwarts and a bloody Mary Sue if Theo had ever seen one. She was smart, had to be to teach a subject like Runes, but she simply loved the fame that came with being James Potter's wife and the Boy Who Lived mother. She wasted no opportunity to get her face in the tabloids and Theo, though he didn't know all that much about the woman, felt her a little too self important to take all that seriously. Harry was his parent's son through and through, or so Theo thought. He was a poser, an attention seeker and enjoyed the men and women who fawned over his pretty little face and body. He was no longer just famous for surviving the Killing Curse he now helped sponsor the Nimbus name and was one of the ministry's poster boys. He was in the year below Theo meaning Theo had never spoken a word to the boy but with the amount of interviews the teen gave he knew more than enough.

He had heard through Tom that Dumbledore would be taking Harry Potter with him in his attempt to woe Slughorn back into work. It was a clever plan, Slughorn was a known collector of anyone who had the ability to become even slightly famous and adding Harry Potter to that collection would be the icing on top of the cake.

He didn't need to watch the pair into the house, he knew what they'd find after all, so, after stubbing out his cigarette, he apperated away from the sleepy little village leaving Dumbledore to find the body of his friend.

The Dark side of the war was a complicated one. You couldn't just ask you're questions like you could with the Light, you had to be sneaky about it, you had to be sure not to over step you're mark. Theo knew that he wasn't brilliant at this; if he had a question he would ask it and it would often earn him a beating from one of the prideful Death Eaters. Technically Theo wasn't a Death Eater – his arm was bare and the only mask he owned was one a friend had given him which was in the shape of a fox. He worked for the Dark rather than belonged to it. Tom had hired him after his father had offered him up for whore meat. His father had wanted him out of his house, out of his life altogether, and had therefore offered his son to his Lord when he had risen again in Theo's second year. Tom had had very little interest in sleeping with a lanky twelve year old boy at that time so had decided to take him and use him as something entirely different. He trained Theo to kill.

Theo wasn't the first one Tom had taken in and trained to basically be his personal assassin and he wouldn't be the last. Theo wasn't well known by the other Death Eaters, didn't really want to be, and if someone were to ask his father he would tell them that his son was a whore for his Lord as neither Theo nor Tom felt it necessary to fill him in on the details of Theo's actual job. Tom would use Theo whenever his other assassins wasn't available. Theo knew he wasn't the best, he had only been doing it for six years and the first two of those were more theory than actual doing, but he wasn't bad either. He could kill and not get found, he would happily torture for hours only occasionally killing them accidentally and he could hold his own in a fight against an Auror – all of which were necessary in his line of work. He liked his job. He hadn't at first admittedly, but that was because he was an emotional wreak of a twelve year old and had his father beating him left, right and centre. But after a year or so he stopped despising the snake like man who provided for him and grew to feel gratitude. Tom may not love him, Tom loved no one, but he came to realise that the man did care for him in some way which, for Theo, had been enough to start working and training hard.

He had been fourteen when he'd made his first kill and Tom had watched every minute of it. He hadn't said anything when Theo had collapsed into a heap next to the man he'd just killed and didn't move a muscle when he had started hyperventilating. Only when Theo had calmed down enough to stand up had Tom moved forward, flicking his wand at the body to make it disappear, and placed a kiss to Theo's forehead in, what Theo liked to believe, well done.

From then on Theo killed regularly. He had been caught a couple of times; getting out before he was identified thanks to the Death Eaters at the ministry. He'd been injured countless times, close to death at least four and tortured once. Overall his job was a dangerous one and he'd be stupid if he thought it anything else. He was still a learner, a novice compared to some of the guys Tom hired but he worked hard and he'd get there one day.

Thoughts? I have a few chapters written but I can leave it as a oneshot too?