Author's Note: Hello readers! This story has been kicking around my head for three years now. A million rewrites later, I'm finally ready to post it. Let me know what you think!

A huge thank you to sweetasylums for agreeing to be my beta. If you want to read something incredible, I recommend checking out her stories :).

alea iacta est

prologue

The new Ministry of Magic stood proudly in the centre of magical London. After the old building had been ravaged in the civil war, the current Minister had created a masterpiece that rivaled the Ministry in Paris. It stood taller than its neighbors - beautiful and awe-inspiring - burying the memory of combat and death in the past.

A figure in black stood on the ledge waiting for a sign of life on the desolate road. He heard through the grapevine that the Snatchers had caught a prize and the delivery was tonight. He spat on the building that represented everything he hated; the New Order that had destroyed everything he held dear.

The vigilante. This was the name the newspapers had given him. It was fitting, but didn't begin to cover what he planned to do. He didn't only want to punish criminals; he wanted to take down the system. It was pathetic how little the civilians saw, how safe they felt in this fucked up world. Nothing had changed in their eyes; to them, the Minister of Magic was still the person in power.

Only the elite knew that something lingered in the darkness, something – someone - more terrible than anything they had dealt with before, the ghost story you told children to make them behave. The puppeteer that pulled the strings, the one responsible for their pain and suffering. A devil who called himself the Emperor.

The Emperor was Voldemort's successor. He was powerful, but paranoid. Only two people knew his identity: Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. They carried out his orders like good soldiers. Bellatrix was in charge of recruitment and trying to spread the Emperor's power abroad. Lucius had been elected as Minister of Magic and ran the government with an iron fist.

The Emperor's existence was only revealed to a select few. Those who discovered this secret and were not worthy of it disappeared. After three years of investigating, this was all the information he had been able to gather on the Emperor.

The clock tower tolled four times startling him out of his thoughts. He scanned the streets looking for the Snatchers. They were an hour late.

"Vestigo quaerere," he said clearly.

The anonymous source had told him the identities of the Snatchers involved after some prodding. The tracking spell had successfully found its mark. Closing his eyes, the sensation of being twisted inside out followed until his feet landed on firm ground.

A cry made him stiffen and retreat into the shadows. He scouted the area. A heavily built man and a skinny bloke were the only threats on the deserted street. They were laughing as they tied her to a tree like a dog.

"There's nowhere for you to run. Scream as loud as you want, darling. No one will save you," the thin man said.

The stocky man walked towards the pub. "Hurry up, Stines. Your barmaid is working tonight."

Booming laughter spread throughout the street as the two men opened the door and walked inside, leaving their prize unattended. Perfect. From his position, he saw ten men and a barmaid in the bar.

The prize - whispered about through the backchannels for the past few days - sat on the sidewalk, defeated. Subdued was not a word he would have ever associated with Hermione Granger. Her frizzy hair was a mess, looking more like a bird's nest than it had at Hogwarts. Her face was swollen, purple and black competing for dominance. Hermione was doubled over, her breathing rapid and shallow. He could not determine the severity of her injuries due to the dirt and grime that covered her. This image of her represented what the world had become; the darkness casting a shadow over them all.

Another boisterous laugh woke him from his thoughts and he knew that it was now or never. Making sure his hood hid his identity - it wouldn't do if they discovered who he was - he stepped into the light. Hermione seemed dazed until he ripped off her restraints. Her brown eyes looked up at him, a combination of fear and shock lurked in their depths.

"Run," he said, but she didn't move. "Run!" he shouted again as he pulled her up from the ground.

And then, with speed he didn't expect from her, Hermione Granger ran down the street and vanished into an alley. As she disappeared from view, he turned back to face the pub and kicked the door down.

He felt alive.

Chaos greeted him like an old friend.