Prologue

Ten Years Ago…

The Auror

On the second level of the Ministry of Magic, within a cubicle in the Auror Headquarters, a woman sat alone on the floor. She had collapsed there after a fit of defeated sobs. Her legs were bent close to her body and a rigid arm supported her, palm flat on the cheap carpet. Long, wavy brunet hair hung from her bowed head, hiding most of her face. There were wet spots from fallen tears gleaming on her other hand, which rested motionless in her lap.

Nothing could be done.

Mihayla Mears was not crying anymore, just staring numbly at the tiny spots of liquid on her skin. She had been told that nothing could be done to help the most important man in her life.

Charlton Fairbairn had trained her for the past year and helped her reach her goal of becoming an Auror. They became partners. He was her best friend and… much more.

Now she was expected to put all of that aside and give up. Charlton was missing in the underground, and she was no longer allowed to search for him because "Nothing could be done". No one was expected to still be living two weeks after captured by the Neo Death Eaters. Charlie had been gone for a month. As she was an inexperienced Auror, the Ministry would not let her go under cover to look for him any longer. They had given up on him – even his family had started making funeral arrangements.

One more week, she told herself. All she needed was one more week with the Neos and she'd find him – whatever his fate.

Nothing could be done?

That was unacceptable.

Mihayla picked herself up from the floor and moved to Charlie's desk. Tomorrow his family would come to empty the drawers and take away his things. Brushing a dark strand of hair out of her face, she opened the top drawer and peered inside.

Everything was just as he had left it: immaculate and neatly sorted. Sitting in the right corner of the drawer organizer, glinting silver in the light of the office, was a pocket watch. She wasn't sure why he had left it behind – perhaps because he was going under cover and hadn't wanted to lose it. Mihayla picked it up and cradled it in her palm before snapping the drawer closed.

No one noticed her walking silently down the hall, nor did they see her enter the lift.

No one saw Mihayla Mears turn her back on the Ministry of Magic.

She would leave the "doing nothing" to them…

The Optimus

Somewhere deep underground in Wales, inside a secret room known only to the current generation of Death Eaters, there was a series of spells going off. Outside of this room, only red and purple lights could be seen through the crack beneath the thick oak door. The only sounds were the gasps and shrieks of agony coming from a dying man's throat. There was a short moment where silence reigned before a chilling cackle sliced the quiet aftermath. The door to the room flew open.

Nineteen-year-old Roman Luciano fled from the chamber, following the twisting labyrinthine hallway for some time until he reached a deserted alcove. The young Italian stopped and pressed his back hard against the stone wall. He tried desperately to keep his composure, but his emotions were in overload. The alcove was cold, but he was trembling uncontrollably for a much different reason. It was taking every thing he had just to hold back the scream that was welling in his throat. He felt lightheaded.

'This isn't right!' He thought in a panic. 'I shouldn't be here. I don't want to kill people. I can't!'

"I can't," he said audibly. "I can't do this…"

The image of the dying man wouldn't leave his sight: the contorted features and the screams. The blood… He pressed his palms to his eyes, but nothing would get that image out of his head. And he couldn't do anything. He had just stood there while they killed the man. He banged the back of his skull on the wall a few times.

'Nothing could be done,' he told himself fiercely. 'If I had tried to stop them, they would have killed me too. I couldn't do anything… Get it together, idiot!'

"Rome!"

The voice made him start violently. He slid down the wall a few inches.

The tall, muscular blond man who had spoken came up to him at a jog. "Rome, what happened?"

"Don't say my real name in here," Roman breathed, his eyes closed and his head tilted back against the wall.

"Sorry," said the man. "What's up, Julius?"

Roman didn't answer. He clenched his fists and eyes shut and tried to pull himself together.

The bigger man seized Roman's shoulders in his beefy hands and shook him. "Breathe, Julius!" Roman gasped in a breath. "What in the name of Merlin is wrong with you?"

Roman's eyes flew open and he gawked at his friend. "Malleus," he said suddenly, "I didn't know they were going to… to kill that man."

"That's what's bothering you?" Malleus asked incredulously. "Haven't you ever seen a dead bloke? You've been working for the Optimates for a whole year, and you're upset because they killed an Auror?"

"YES!" Roman shouted, leaning toward Malleus. "They didn't just kill; they mutilated a person in there!" He pointed rigidly in the general direction of the murder scene. "Of course I'm upset! How can this not bother you?"

"It bother's me more that you're acting this way," Malleus countered, arching a blond eyebrow at him. "You're a bloody Optimus, Julius. Death is in the job description."

"No! I joined because of you! You told me my job was to break into wherever you needed to go. You never said I'd have to watch people die!"

"I thought you understood!" Malleus insisted. "Rome, you're the one who's going to kill them!"

Roman's breath caught in his chest and he had to hold onto his friend's shoulder to stay upright. He was shaking again.

"I – I can't do that, mate," he managed to croak after a moment.

"You can, and you will," Malleus told him. Roman looked at him suddenly, trying to find anything threatening in the big man's visage, but he looked just like any concerned best friend should look.

"I'll admit, it wasn't easy for me the first time, either, but you get over it," Malleus reassured him. "Give it some time – for Merlin's sake, stop holding your breath – and you'll realize why we had to kill him. Maybe you should take tomorrow off or something."

Roman was taking deep breaths now, his head tilted against the wall again, but the poker face was resettling.

"I'll tell Dad you need a little vacation," Malleus continued. "You can go back to France or wherever for the weekend."

"No!" Roman said sharply. "No, Malleus, don't tell your father that I had a melt down. He'd think I was… just don't tell him, okay?"

"Okay," his friend said, still eying him with some concern. "You getting better now?"

Roman took one more settling breath and nodded once.

"Good. Now let's go. We've got to be briefed for tomorrow's mission." He clapped Roman on the shoulder with his heavy hand and physically turned him back down the hall.

Calm and quiet, Roman walked with the blond man back down the hall – back to the Optimates.

The next day, and for the next ten years, he would commit the ultimate betrayal of the underground. As he continued to move up in the ranks of the Optimates, he started passing information to a man from the Ministry of Magic.

(Ha! Bet none of you saw the sequal coming this quickly, did you? Well, don't expect the next chapter too soon, though I'll write it as fast as I can. I am a poor college student with very little free time, after all. Thanks so much to everyone who followed and reviewed my last story!)

Disclaimer: Okay, yeah, the characters in the prologue are mine, but my first chapter and probably every chapter after it are about characters that belong to the magical J.K. Rowling. I would never want to do her an injustice by writing them without giving her full creadit. She really is a wonderful wiz, if ever a wiz there was!