Hunting For The Sun

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Black Widow

It was with a great detachment that I stole Malfoy´s dagger and slit his throat, just to make sure. Had I had the time, I would have buried him head-down in a deep, deep hole, but I had things to do, places to go, people to see. I took off my cloak, after consideration, and laid it over Malfoy´s body, but not before taking his floor-length black coat.

`You were a worthy adversary, Malfoy,´ I told him, slinging the coat over my shoulders. `Were.´ I laughed like a maniac, and marched out into the snowy street, coat flaring behind me. That coat soon became my trademark, along with the little dragon charms I began to leave on the bodies of my victims.

Although I had planned to go to the sewers, I soon changed my mind. Assassins were never a burden in a country preparing for what was essentially civil war. I could make a lot of money out of what I could do. I would need weapons and new clothes. Silk dresses aren´t the best outfit for killing people. So I nicked Malfoy´s bulging wallet. Once a thief, always a thief, eh?

Some shops were still open, especially weapon shops. They were black-market of course, but I was a criminal, and we all must support our brethren. I bought myself a sword, three daggers to go with my stolen one, and a handgun. That was only the beginning. I loved buying weapons. I still do. It´s just a hobby. I can only just carry all my favourite ones now. I tucked them all under my coat for the minute, and went in search of a place to buy suitable clothes, or sleep. In the end I drew out a wad of cash for a night in an inn.

The morning dawned all frosty, with a fresh layer of snow. I awoke with a clear head, and fingered my new ring thoughtfully, before emerging from my bed and getting dressed. I needed to go shopping. However, who knew how long this money would last? I needed to start earning some before long. The first shop I found turned out to be the best thing that had happened since the night before. I decided on a trademark with a fabulously detailed mind. It was so strange. When Malfoy had been lulling my thoughts, I had been, essentially, stupid. I had a quick mind, but a stupid one. Now it was fast and very clever. It would have to be black, my colour. I bought all the black clothes I could find, hardly making a dent in the wallet, which was packed to overflowing with the recently established hundred Galleon bills. I changed in the shop changing rooms to wear a simple black shirt and black leather trousers. The hair would have to be dyed, of course, but my ice-white skin would remain. That meant my next stop would be hairdressers. Then I could dye my hair and be on my way.

It didn´t take long, as it was done with magic. All the Muggles were dead or hiding in Hogwarts by that time. I didn´t care. It meant that things were easier. It didn´t seem right to kill defenceless Muggles. I caught sight of myself in a window, and liked the effect. I slotted my sword and gun into my new belt, and one dagger down each boot, then one down the front of my shirt and one at the back of my belt, under my coat. I made a wonderful clinking noise when I walked. It made me grin evilly to think that I could kill anyone who touched me now.

The news spread fast, of course. Malfoy was dead, no one knew who had done it. Rae had vanished. I sat in many cafés, guarded by my dark glasses, reading the papers and chuckling to myself. I only took a couple of days to relax, though. Soon I needed to establish myself in underground crime. First I had to pull of a decent heist, or get myself famous for the Malfoy Affair. That would test my powers of concealment, but I had been hiding all my life. I knew I could do it. Besides, where´s the fun in being nondescript? You have to be a famous criminal, like Sirius Black. When I was little I idolised that man. I wonder what happened to him. I know he´s a good guy, of course. I´m a criminal genius; there isn´t much I don´t know. I would love to meet him.

So I suppose that was why I wrote to the papers with the information. It was published that very day, and I sat in my café reading about it. They had a very old photo of me from the wanted posters when I was about thirteen. I suppose it was the best they could come up with. I was glad. I wanted to be known, not caught. I looked so different. I had, of course, erased my Dark Mark, and dyed my hair. I got a tattoo not long after that, too. I had a black dragon drawn up my spine. It was invigorating. Remaking myself was fun. I called myself `Black Widow´, and I was just as lethal. I sat back and gave the news a couple of days to simmer, then sought the Mafia. I knew they would help me out, and be pretty impressed, with any luck. The Mafia wasn´t on anyone´s side, so I knew they would never turn me in. If I could continue to help them, that was. Otherwise, I would be killed. Oh well, it was a risk I was willing to take.

However, I was spared the effort of seeking them out. They came to me before long, and offered me a deal. I was surprised when they called me `Dragon Child´, and even more surprised to find that this had been my code name the moment I became a spy in the Ministry. They told me things about myself that I never knew. They were the ones who told me that they had had me divined as soon as they had found out about me, and the Seer had said that I would come through death and destruction, and always live, and that I was the child of a dragon. That obviously wasn´t literal. I put two and two together, and came out with the four that said it was more of a brainchild, and I was Draco´s at that time. Draco means dragon, obviously. It was quite an impressive fit.

Anyway, enough posing. They told me that I could join them if I did one of three things. I had to either: kill someone for them, steal something for them, or destroy something for them. I chose to kill. They gave me an envelope of information, and dropped me back where they had found me. I was puffed up with my own cleverness, but I decided not to let it get to me. It was, after all, a dangerous life I now led, more dangerous than all my time as a rebel. Now I was on my own side, making my own deals, calling my own shots. I was playing Russian Roulette with a fair number of people, the sort of people who didn´t like just using one or two bullets. They were more the sort for one or two blanks in a magazine. So I held the metaphoric gun to my temple, and opened the envelope.

Inside was a photo of someone I most definitely recognised, and a number of facts as to his whereabouts, but I didn´t need those. I already knew where Harry Potter was. I felt myself settling my finger on the trigger. This was make or break: loyalty over love. Well, I was loyal to myself, and I only loved a dead man, so I was free to ride on all counts. Without another word, I set off for the Ministry.

It should be stated here, I feel, that I do not give a rat´s ass what you think about my life. I did what I did, and it´s too late for you to stop me with your `doesn´t make sense´s. I don´t know or care if it made sense. I just wanted to do what I wanted to do. If that meant doing a few off the rails things, then so be it.

I wasn´t sure if Harry knew what I had done. I could pass it all off, I supposed. As long as I could get into his rooms.

I had, it seemed, underestimated the upheaval I had caused by killing that one man. The entire Ministry was in chaos, and I could have pinned a huge sign to myself saying `I murdered Malfoy´ and stood in the centre of the room with my arms out ready to be shackled. No one even looked at me. It was quite disturbing.

Of course, Harry, I mean Baddock wasn´t there. I crept out of the hall into a quiet corridor. The light reflected off the marble and showed me before I even looked up that Harry stood by a window at the far end.

I cleared my throat. He turned.

`I was so worried about you!´ Harry said, relief washing over his face. `Where have you been?´

`Here and there,´ I said guardedly.

`Do you know anything about Malfoy?´ Harry asked wildly.

`I might do,´ I said coldly, drawing myself up to my full height.

`What do you mean?´ Harry frowned, taking a step towards me.

`One more step, and you´ll find a new kind of art all over yourself,´ I cautioned, flicking out my new gun and aiming it between his eyes. Considering I had never used one before, it was surprisingly easy.

`Rae, what are you doing?´ Harry asked, preparing to shield with a charm.

`I´m aiming a gun between your eyes and threatening you,´ I told him.

`You don´t have to be a genius to work that out,´ Harry snapped dryly. `Why?´

`Because I have been told to,´ I said truthfully. No point in lying to someone who was going to die.

`Rae, I´m on your side,´ Harry wheedled.

`I´m on no one´s side. I betrayed you,´ I said coldly. `I betrayed all of you. I told him about the sewers, I told him all I knew.´

Harry looked absolutely furious. `I can´t believe I ever trusted you!´ he shouted.

`Then I killed him,´ I said lightly, as though Harry hadn´t spoken. To be honest, I can´t remember hearing him. I just knew what he had said.

`You killed him?´ Harry frowned, stopping in mid rant. He looked quite handsome. Shame I had to kill him. He was alright, really.

`Yes. I cursed him then slit his throat.´

`You were on our side after all! I was unsure, when you started hanging around with Malfoy.´

`I didn´t kill him for you!´ I spat. `I killed him for what he´s done to me. Now I´m on no one´s side. You are dull, and you would never accept me. Who wants to be good when all that it gives them is pain and loss? All I got from being a rebel was murder. I killed Malfoy, and can´t stay here. I´m going underground. You may hear of me some time,´ I said. Then I slid my finger across the cold metal of the trigger. I took a deep breath and pulled.

The shot was so loud in the corridor. A burst of blood sprayed out, and I danced over his pole-axed body before running as fast as I could down the hall. In my haste to depart, I didn´t realise my necklace had come undone and landed on Harry´s body. I tucked my gun away and dived out of the window. I rolled in the street and continued to run. I could hear people flowing into the room, and strained myself that little bit harder. When I was running so fast that I could almost feel G-force rippling my cheeks, I took a jump and landed on a staircase. I stumbled up it, coughing and spluttering. I scrambled onto the roof and wormed my way into a little dip. The damp soaked through the back of my clothes, but I ignored it. I was struggling to quiet my breathing. The scene kept playing over and over in my head. I wasn´t guilty. I was more exhilarated. I waited until it was dark, and most of the searching had subsided, before climbing down. My limbs were shaking and I couldn´t breathe properly. Number six, I thought. I´m a fully-fledged murderer now.

It may sound quick, but that´s really how the kill went. As soon as all his spells faded, they found out who it was, and decided that I wouldn´t be punished, not that they knew who I was at the time. It was all over the papers: `Black Widow Strikes Again´, `Mysterious dragon charm found on body´. That was how my trademark was established. I had never meant to do it, but all the classy criminals left signs. It made me more famous, so I butchered a few rich officials to get myself a little more established, and give me some practice.

I used magic to manufacture my little dragons, so that they were untraceable. That didn´t seem to occur to the police, though. They were trying to find shops that made dragon charms. I had to replace the one around my neck, but that was okay. It was worth it.

Once I´d cooled my heels for a while, I sought out the Mafia again. As before, the moment I started looking, they appeared.

`Good work,´ said a voice inside the car. `Now what do you plan to do with yourself?´

`I thought that was my trial for entry,´ I frowned.

`Well, do you want to become one of us?´ the voice asked. It sounded amused.

`Yes, but I don´t think it´s funny.´

`You´re quite right. Shall I organise you an interview with a boss?´

`Would you?´ I said, trying not to sound excited. I hoped to be offhand, and not really care.

`You don´t look too enthusiastic,´ the man noted.

`Do you think I really need you?´ I scoffed. `You aren´t the only Underground organisation in the world, you know.´

`You´re quite right.´

`Why are you giving me all these chances?´ I asked. It had been playing on my mind all that time I had been hiding from all the various forces hunting me down.

`Do you know how many people we have sent to kill Malfoy and Potter?´

`No.´

`Upwards of one hundred people, good people, have gone out and never come back. You killed both without batting an eyelid. You´re special.´

I considered explaining that it was only because I was a traitor and a bit of a slut, but it didn´t come out like that. `I guess I´m just talented.´

`And we need talent. I´ll call you when I hear anything.´ A window slid down smoothly on the mirrored glass of the car, and a black-gloved hand extended, holding a tiny little mobile phone. I took it, and pocketed it.

`I look forward to hearing from you,´ I said truthfully.

There was no reply. The car slid away as silently as it had appeared, and I soon lost it in the dark. I smiled to myself. This was too easy.

It was many days before I heard anymore. I cooled my heels again, delighting in the chaos I was causing. The casual street murders I committed were making people stay off the streets at night and keep their weapons ready in the day. It was the most fun ever.

My phone started buzzing and ringing. I flicked it open, looking for all the world like one of those elegant spies you saw in the movies. It was nearly Christmas, and I was having lots of fun with many different people carrying lots of money to do their shopping. I bought myself a pair of Uzi pistols that day, and had them inscribed with my new dragon insignia.

`Hello, Dragon-Child,´ said that familiar voice.

`Hello, Mysterious Voice.´

`Where are you?´

I leaned against the window of the café to check the sign. `Diagon South, in the Mayo café.´

`Brave of you,´ he commented.

`Where´s the fun in hiding?´

`Quite right.´

`You say that a lot.´

`I´m a small minded person.´

`I noticed.´

`Okay that´ll do. I got you an interview with the Boss.´

`You did? When?´

`When can you make it to the street corner?´

`Two minutes.´

`See you in two minutes.´

I clapped it shut, grinning. I had been an official criminal for a couple of weeks, and I already had a deal with the Mafia. That was good going, considering that I wasn´t yet eighteen. I finished my coffee, and left the shop. It was snowing again, and I smiled. Life was sweet. Even when you had hit the bottom, it took so little to get back on your feet again. But I was the Survivor. I was born to live. I guess that gives a bit of reason to my notable lack of common sense. If I had common sense, I would never do the things I did, and would never live as long as I had. Common sense was an enemy back then, in those hard times.

I swirled my coat around me, and walked up to the corner where the street met Offish Alley Square. There was the car. It was always where it said it would be. I don´t think that was a normal car. Well, duh. The door popped open as I drew close, and I got in. The car was empty, save the driver. I had expected as much. The chauffeur pulled away before I was even inside. I sat back in the leather seats, and smiled smugly. Yes, life was very good.