Dark Angelus

Lucius walked down towards the docks. He paused just once, glancing around the freezing night before climbing up into a dark antique looking carriage with a team of black stallions pulling it. He never approved of the muggle transportation so many of his brethren were adopting. He held the old ways of doing things in higher regard and so his driver tipped his hat before snapping the reigns. He stared out the carriage window onto the passing scenery. He didn’t want to admit that his son troubled him. Draco was supposed to worship him, not try to kill him every chance he had. Of course he shouldn’t have let his precious son go to that forsaken school, he had been brainwashed along with the rest of the young magical population being taught there. He should have done something before it was too late but it was and now he was dealing with too much. His leader, Lord Voldemort was gone, the war was over but that didn’t mean he could rest. There was still the different Clans to worry about and of course the Aurors that were now out for his blood. He was a hunted man, there was no one that didn’t want him dead. That would have disheartened anyone else but Lucius Malfoy was the Dark Angelus, a man who constantly lived to tip the unequal odds in his favor.

~~~~!!!~~~~

Draco walked down Knockturn Alley, trying to find the right shop. Shacklebolt had told him it was hard to find and he was right. He was half tempted to kill off the ex-professor just so he wouldn’t have to face his father but he would have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life and he had a long life ahead of him. He stopped in front of the right shop at long last, going in and looking around. It was dark and everything looked ancient. He stopped before the counter as a woman walked out of the back. She narrowed her eyes at him before going forward, stopping before him, the counter separating them.

“Lord Draco Malfoy, it’s a pleasure,” she murmured, holding out her hand to him which he bowed over and kissed lightly.

“Lady Chi, it is most certainly my pleasure as well,” he looked up into the vibrant violet eyes staring back at him almost hungrily.

“You’ve come for the weapon Shacklebolt had contacted me about,” she gestured to the whip sitting in an open wooden case. Draco walked over to it, looking down on the beautifully crafted weapon. He ran his hand lovingly over the black leather and lightly ran his finger down the side of one of the perfectly shaped barbs.

“It’s been in your family for centuries, when Lord Malfoy came to me with it, I could barely accept it but in the end he talked me into it,” Jacaranda Chi took a deep breathe and let it out slowly then looked up at Draco.

“Do you have what I asked in exchange for it?” She asked, Draco pulled out from the depths of his robe a small black wooden box and handed it to her. She opened it then instantly snapped it shut once more, a business like mask dropping over her face to hide the excitement bubbling up inside. She snapped the lid of Apocalypse closed and picked it up, walking over to the main counter and casting a shrinking charm on it. She then held it out for Draco to take. He nodded to her and walked out.

He apparated out of Knockturn and back to his flat where Hermione nervously waited for him. She looked up at him with a sad expression covering her face. She had given him a vial of Phoenix tears that Harry had given her. She got up and wrapped her arms tightly around Draco, burying her face into his warm shoulder. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay. That after the war, she wouldn’t have to get involved in any more wars but it seemed like the world was full of wars, there was no such thing as peace. It was an impossible illusion.

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“How many Clans are there?” Hermione asked as they waited for the subway.

“I don’t quite know, the older ones are hard to get close to. The Blood Clan are just rogue vamps as you know. Vamps that go crazy and will kill anyone in their path. Dark Angelus is the one that destroys the Blood Clan. There used to be more clans that were blood crazy but they were killed off by the other clans and my father. The other clans don’t care about the individual vamp out there preying on innocent mortals. That’s where I come in, I hunt them,” Draco looked over at her.

“You haven’t killed anyone yet,” Hermione smirked over at her.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, smiling back at her before getting on the subway, the doors sliding closed behind them with a soft hiss.

They made it just as night fell on the town. Draco looked up at the lights as they passed beneath them. He was ready for anything, Apocalypse wrapped around him and Hellbind hanging from his shoulder. Hermione had her hand clamped hard around her wand as they crossed the street into one of the many high walled cemeteries. He easily helped her over the wall and the hurried towards one of the bigger tombs.

“How do you know about this place?” Hermione breathed as she followed him past tombstone after angelic guardian.

“My father showed me it when I was younger,” He answered, stopping before the dark massive tomb. At the top was carved a latin inscription barely readable.

“Are you sure they are there?” She murmured, staring up at the rot iron gates flowering with black roses and curlicues.

“Very sure and they’re just about to wake up,” Draco smiled down on Hermione as the gates started to open before them and Deatheaters started to pour out. Hermione pulled out her wand and started hexing vampire after vampire that came at her while Draco ran into the tomb, she screamed after him to stop but he had already disappeared. He stopped before an ancient looking vampyr that had a stylish top hat covering long silk black hair and black robes covering his thin frame. His long white fingernails almost glowed in the darkness.

“Where is he?” Draco asked, keeping his eyes fully focused on the vampyr.

“He has left us…I don’t know where he went,” the man answered, looking up into Draco’s eyes. They were depthless black and almost enchanting.

“You’re lying,” Draco took a step forward but the man stood, leaning forward to get into Draco’s face.

“White angel, will you save my soul?” He implored. “Will you save Darius’ soul?” He reached towards Draco but he pulled back.

“I can only send you to hell,” Draco answered, pulling out Hellbind, Darius hissed, stepping away from the dark weapon.

“Armed with your father’s weapons I see. Go find him if you can. I can not help you,” Darius turned away from Draco, walking around his stone chair.

“You will or I will kill you,” Draco threatened, taking a step towards the vampyr.

“White angel, don’t bother yourself with the likes of me. I am only a helpless, near dead vampyr that only wishes to die. You will only bring me pain and misery with your weapons. Go forth and destroy,” Darius flicked his wrist dismissively at him. Draco growled, following the other out into the snow covered cemetery, Hermione had easily dispatched the vampires that had attacked them. Only Darius was left, he looked around at the blood and ash everywhere.

“Your guardian is very useful I see,” Darius looked to Hermione.

“She holds her own,” Draco growled, standing slightly behind the other. Darius slowly pulled off his hat and kneeled before Draco.

“Kill me White Angel, kill me as you have been appointed to. I am of the Blood Clan, I have killed countless mortals. I deserve to die in your blade,” Darius stared up into Draco’s eyes. He could feel the truth of Darius’ words, could almost hear the screams of the souls he had ripped apart. Draco plunged Hellbind straight into Darius’ heart, silencing all the cries of tormented souls around them. Hermione stared up at Draco, dumbfounded by what she had witnessed.

“Why did he call you White Angel?” Hermione asked as they walked out of the cemetery.

“I don’t really know,” Draco murmured, glancing down on her before they walked down to the subway covered in ash and blood.


TBC

Notes: Well, at least I’ve got a little more direction…I’ve still got a little more to flesh out before ending this thing, sorry, no easy last battle here.