You are viewing a story from

The Killer In Me by Gold Pheonix

Format: Short story
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 4,214
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Strong Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Romance, Action, Angst, Drama
Characters: Draco, Harry, Dumbledore, Hermione, OC, Ron, Sirius Black, Snape, Voldemort, Pansy

First Published: 10/29/2005
Last Chapter: 11/15/2005
Last Updated: 11/15/2005

Image hosted by
Chapter 3 posted. She's the youngest person to ever be sentenced to Azkaban Prison. At eleven years old she pleaded guilty to murder. She was sentenced in the very same year. But now, six years on, someone comes to her rescue, seeking the truth. But the thing is, will they be able to handle it? -- NEWLY EDITED -- ((Entirely different story excluding prologue)) Revised version. Don't forget to R&R! ^.^

Chapter 1: The Prologue
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Killer In Me


The storm black sky stretched out above her, the wind howled at her heels. The moonlight was her only guide, through the unknown forest. The trees whispered and creaked, warning her to go no further. She ignored their plea’s. She knew what she hunted. She intended to find him. To kill him. Her witchy black eyes glittered, her hood covering the main of her face in shadows.

The twigs snapped beneath her feet, she made no attempt to hide herself. He knew she was here. He ran. He hid. The girl was barely yet eleven, yet she was cold and vicious. Her past haunted her, dragging her down into darkness. She was lost. She does not know of what she does. She does not know of the pain she causes. She too, runs from fear.

She nears her prey, she’s screaming inside. Her wand is drawn, ready to attack. He deserves to die. After everything he’s done. She catches a glimpse of his blood red cloak, dashing behind an old tree. Her anger rises, she is blinded by hate. She rounds the tree, he stands but a few feet away from her. His cloak shadowing his own crooked face. His eyes darted to her wand and back.

“Going to kill me, after everything?” he whispered.

“You’d deserve it!” she hissed in return. He let out a shaky laugh.

“So did your mother.” he muttered, grinning maliciously.

“I HATE YOU!” the girl screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her hand which held the wand shook with anger, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So did your mother.” he repeated, the girl cried in anger.

“How could you? You’re a spiteful bastard, you don’t deserve to walk this earth, to breath the air others have! You don’t deserve any of this!” she yelled, her arms gesturing around her.

“What happened to you? You used to be a sweet, young girl, sure, you were feisty, but never violent.” he asked casually.

“You happened, that’s what!” her wand still pointed at his chest.

“You’ve turned into a little bitch, just like your mother,” he said, cackling madly.

The forest went deadly silent. The girl shook her head.

“I. Hate. You.” she said, so quietly it was barely audible.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” she screamed, the birds screeched in their trees, the forest groaned. He fell to the floor, immediately lifeless. She stepped over to him, and knelt down beside him.

“I hope you rot in hell!” she cried. Tears still fell from her pure black eyes, her hood had fallen down; revealing brown highlighted hair. “For everything you’ve done to me, for every bit of pain you’ve caused me!”

She stood up, towering over his still body. She spat at his body, “It’s not over yet.” she whispered. She looked around. She could hear noises, shouts. She had to leave, before it was too late. They were coming closer, they were searching for her. She was an underage witch, they will have known she used magic. She started to run into the trees, desperately looking for an escape. The branches fell down and scratched her soft face, blood trickled down her clear cheek. The trees reached out, trying to stop her from fleeing, one caught her leg, bringing her crashing to her knees. She cried out in agony. The pain coursed through her frail body, the blood pumped through her veins furiously. The voices were drawing nearer, they were coming for her. She tried to get up, her legs failed her.

Everything began to fade. She was left in darkness.

A/N: As you know, this is just a prologue, and the next bit is wrote and will be up shortly. This is entirely revised, this chapter being the only one staying the same. All the other chapters to follow are newly written, as I’ve decided to change the plot of this story =) . Please R&R, I always answer my reviews. ((Well, I’m going to carry on from where I left))

Chapter 2: The Key to A Killer
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

A/N: Well guys, this is where it all changes. People who read my story before will know this is entirely different - so you have to R&R again XD . Hope you all enjoy it, next chapter will be done soon ^.^ .

Chapter 2 The Key to A Killer

The footsteps echoed hungrily against the stone cold walls. The jingle of his keys gently brushing against his trousers. The empty chill of the creatures roaming. Darkness loomed; fog lay low in the air. He reached the end of the corridor, and brought the keys to the lock. Briefly flicking through the keys he entered one into the lock, turning it. The door did not open.

He lifted a finger to the door, moving it down, and then across to the left. Dementors hung nearby, watching, waiting. The man then twisted another key into a separate lock, and the door opened after he’d entered another coded key.

He was pale and thin - only about 28 years old. His eyes were ice blue, no depth, no warmth - they were hollow and cold. His short, scruffy brown hair was slightly spiked up from his head through no intention. His white polo shirt was dirty, as if trailed through mud and grime. He pushed open the heavy and solid metal door with as much force as he could muster, and looked into the room.

An empty room before him, one he had grown quite accustomed to over the years. She sat by the window, her head against the bars. His heart wrenched inside his chest. He’d grown accustomed to her, too. Her black hair was loose around her face, the wind blowing through and ever so slightly rustling the wisps of hair.

The cell was empty. No paintings scaled the walls, no feelings roamed the air, no emotion - no heart, just a girl in chains. Just a girl. The man watched her lifelessly, not blinking, not moving - simply standing by the door. He didn’t know if she’d noticed him yet, he never could tell - she barely ever spoke. He cleared his throat raptly, as if signalling his acknowledgement. She did not move an inch, just continued to stare listlessly out of the window and out into the sky.

“Come.” he said shortly. His voice was as cold as his eyes. It was quite deep, very dark, with a certain rasp to his accent. The girl did once again not move, she had no intention of moving either. The man knew her games, he was used to it by now - but he never played.

“Come.” he repeated, almost solemnly, as if sentencing her to death. In actual fact; he was doing the exact opposite. She once again, and unsurprisingly, didn’t move. The man looked down to the stone floor, his breath long yet short at the same time. He raised his eyes to her figure once again, only to meet her eyes. Her stunning black eyes. He’d never seen any of the sort before, so intriguing - so dark. Pure black, to match her name. They glittered in the dim moonlight. She didn’t blink, just stared at him. After a few moments, he broke the contact. He couldn’t look into her eyes for long, it wasn’t possible.

“I’ll ask you again, come.” he said quietly, looking to the floor. She didn’t move. He sighed, running a shaky hand through his fair hair. She sensed his nerves, and tilted her head ever so slightly. She was thin, yet not overly thin. Her black hair was mid-length, reaching just past her shoulders. Her lips were red, her skin was strangely ivory toned, considering she’d been locked inside that cell for so long.

She glanced out of the window. The man took a few steps forward, and she immediately looked back.

“Miss Black, we need you to co-operate.” he said quietly, almost softly. The girl frowned at this; his quiet tone - his nervousness. He took a few more steps towards her and bent down to where her hand rested. The metal chains were clearly visible against her skin, they were locked tightly, just in case. He took his keys once again from the belt clip where they rested and picked out a silver one. He lifted it to the lock and turned it, twisting it variously and changing it around. It broke off, and clattered to the floor noisily. Dementors whispered and hissed, clawing at the door for entry.

The warden turned to look at the shadowed creatures, his bony features suddenly more visible in the clear moonlight. Fear seemed to pulse through his body suddenly, his eyes flitted and moved back to the girl before him.
The dementors had never been allowed to touch her, she was too young - even though she did what she did. They guarded her door, teasing her - twisting her. She could hear them tormenting others, killing with no remorse. They bear so many similarities to herself she found it rather amusing, in a bitter way. She watched her warden curiously as he unlocked her chains, setting her free. She knew this man so well, yet he knew nothing of herself.

He came in every day, even when he didn’t have to. He brought her her sordid meals each and every day, for six long years. She grew to acknowledge him. He would sit in her cell, talking of when he was younger - his family that were lost for his fault. She hated him. Every little bit of him. She despised how open he was, and how naïve he acted. Yet, she knew he had fallen in love with herself. It would seem, that even if she did not speak, he would fall for her.

The man merely sat, gazing at her as he waited for her to move. The chains lay lankly on the hard floor, his keys back at his side. He waited, yet she did not move. He would wait another thousand years for her, just for her to move. He would admit, he had fallen in love with her shadow. He didn’t know anything about her except her name and age. Two facts, and one other - of why she was here. He was undeniably grateful for the fact she was there, he wouldn’t have been able to survive this torment if she were not.

“Miss Black, there is someone who wishes to speak to you.”

That drew her attention entirely. She racked her brains, willing to remember who on earth would want to see her. She blinked, and thought about what to do next. She swallowed thickly, and opened her mouth.

“Who?” she asked quietly. Her voice was strong, yet weakened. She rarely spoke, it had probably done some kind of damage. Her warden treasured the moments when she spoke. It was sad - how much he’d come to rely on this prisoner, this damaged wreck of a person. He felt they were alike in person, both betrayed, both lost - both alone. But he was wrong. He was wrong to ever let this infatuation get so far.One blink and she'd be gone.

“Albus Dumbledore.” he said in reply. It was as if, saying those two words, he’d just let go of the only person left in his life. He felt alone once more.

She stood abruptly, causing the man to jump ever so slightly. He stood with her, took one last look at her, and walked out of the cell. She followed slowly, down the corridor. Other prisoners watched as she walked past, their eyes crazed - manic. They screamed and clawed at the doors - these were the new arrivals, stil frsh and eager to get out. She felt no pity for them, no sorrow, no sympathy. Cries of anguish and pain screamed from the walls of hidden cells, the sorrow wreaked the air, tainting it.

As they walked, she looked into the different cells. She walked past one, adnd she saw someone, someone so familiar. It was a woman, with long dar hair, she sat at the back of the cell, facing the wal. The girl walked up to the cell, watching the woman. The woman looked up, and saw her. She narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to speak, but the warden grabbed her arm and spoke first.

"Please don't make this any harder than it is." he whispered hoarsely, and the girl took her arm from his grasp and followed him once again, the womans face vivid in her mind.

The warden once again took his keys, and went through another process to unlock the door. She waited by his side, staring at the wall across. It had scribbles written on it, and a single chair stood alone. It was where her warden sat, all day, every day. At the bottom, very bottom of her heart, she felt something twinge. Something she didn’t usually feel.

The door opened, and he held it open for her. She walked out into another corridor. There were no windows or doors in this one, excluding the very far door across from them. They walked in silence. Their footsteps were the only sounds now. They reached the end. The Warden went for his keys at his side, but the girl reached for his hand. He flinched at her touch. She leant forward, and kissed him. It was just a kiss, yet it held so much more. It held all the secrets, all the lies, all the deceit. She pulled back slowly and simply nodded at him.

She knew she wouldn’t see him again. He knew this too. He caught his breath back, and swallowed hard. He took his keys, and unlocked the door. He held it once again for her, and she walked through.

A wizard stood tall in the room. It was another empty room, he was the only occupant. His blue eyes twinkled ever so slightly, he wore robes of deep reds and purples. He was such a strange sight for eyes that had only seen black and white for the past six years.

“Miss Black.” he said softly, his tone warm and welcoming. The girl narrowed her eyes. “I’m here to collect you.”

A/N: Guys, don’t shoot me. I know this chapter was, well, pretty pointless =P . It does have point later on, I swear. This is a totally different story to that of what it was. I’m not even editing the last one, I’m just re-writing it ^.^ . Please review and either tell me what you think of it now, or if you think its better!

Thank y’all for reading fellows ^^ . ~Harley xx

Chapter 3: Hiding in the Shadows
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

A/N: Hello again, time for the next chapter. This one will be slightly more pointed, and we’ll get somewhere with the plot ^_^ Thank you so much for reading so far!!! Hope you review, too *wink wink, nudge nudge* lol, just kidding. Hope you enjoy….

Chapter 3 Hiding in the Shadows

It was just as it was in stories, in little tales she’d heard from long ago. Every stone was built with such care, every stone was filled with such magic. It loomed above menacingly, yet it was so warm and welcoming it could never be cruel. Little lights burned in most of the windows, towers upon towers reaching up to the skies above.

Walking through the silent corridors it was as if there was a knowing presence. As if, the castle could seek your deepest fears, reveal your darkest secrets. Adromeda Black walked two steps behind Albus Dumbledore. She wore a black cloak, the hood was down at this point. Her black hair was tied up messily. She wondered why she was here. Why had this fool come to ‘save’ her? She did not need saving. Dumbledore lead her to an old staircase, well - a password protected staircase. An old Eagle Owl statue guarded it, changing to accommodate stairs. They walked up and into what could be called a waiting room.

It was red and purple, deep and rich colours. Slight bits of gold were hinted at in various places, cushions and painted wooden objects. They then entered another room. This was tall, the ceiling reached up very high, the ceiling mirroring the sky. It was a circular room, portraits of past headmasters covered the walls. There was a desk, and a large maroon plush chair on which Dumbledore sat. He motioned for Andromeda to sit opposite in a similar chair. Her eyes wondered to the beautiful bird beside them on a perch. It was gold and red, a Phoenix. She watched it in admiration, a virtue she does not usually show.

Albus waited for her to look to him, a small smile on his lips. Andromeda turned her attention to him, though she did not return the smile.

“Miss Black.” he started quietly, his eyes intently watching her. She returned his gaze, her black eyes taking in his every detail. He was growing old, he looked frail, slightly more of an edge to him. She now understood the death eaters words. “How are you?” he asked.

Andromeda frowned. What kind of question was that to a seventeen year old who just got out of Azkaban prison of where she’d been locked away for six years? She couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “Marvellous.” she replied, her tone dripping sarcasm.

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded. Andromeda was disliking this old man, she didn’t understand him.

“You seem slightly confused,” he said softly. Andromeda narrowed her eyes. Was this man stupid?

“I’ve just been locked away in Azkaban for six years, what do you think?” she hissed. Dumbledore had stopped smiling by this point, and was watching Andromeda with a high interest.

“Do you know why they released you?” he asked her. She simply shook her head. “Because I believe you are innocent.”

It was strange, those five words, I believe you are innocent, rang over and over in her mind. Innocent. She didn’t know the meaning of this word. She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He just sat there and watched her.

“But I’m not.” she said shortly, not veering her gaze. Albus nodded.

“You shall see.” he said. Andromeda stared at him in disbelief. This man was crazy. Yet this man was her saviour. “Now, we need you to be sorted into a house. I’ve already spoken to the hat, and he’ll be happy to.”

Andromeda raised an eyebrow. “The hat?” she repeated, a bemused expression apparent on her face.

“The hat.” he said once again, firmly. Andromeda’s eyes flitted to the old rugged hat on the shelf behind the headmaster. It was grey and damp looking, torn in some parts. It sat limply on its ledge, lifeless and dull. Albus reached back and brought it forward, sitting it on the table. Andromeda didn’t know if she was being stupid or he was. Is she supposed to know what this hat is about?

She opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore spoke first.

“This is the Sorting Hat.” he said, his voice raspy, worn out. “It will decide which house you are best suited to, there is Gryffindor for the brave, Ravenclaw for the witty, Slytherin for the cunning and Hufflepuff for the open-hearted. The hat can see everything about you, your past, your present - sometimes your future.”

Andromeda nodded absently, her eyes on the hat. At the back of her mind, she wondered - did it really know everything? Dumbledore stood from his chair and took the hat. He placed it on Andromeda’s head, and simply stood back, waiting. Andromeda sat for a moment, nothing happening.

Bit then, it began to talk. She looked up to where Dumbledore stood, to see if he seemingly could hear, and he couldn’t.

Andromeda Black? My my, I thought you were dead, excuse me for thinking - but most did. Ahh, but no, you were the girl sent to Azkaban. Eleven years old, yes, that’s right. Murder. How interesting…. Black, a family generation for many years, if I’m not mistaken. Many different house choices, too, I remember well your mothers. Well, I think I have made my decision.

Better be….


Andromeda swallowed. Slytherin. She’d known that. At the back of her mind, she known. She took the hat off her head, and placed it back onto the table casually. She stood, face to face with Dumbledore, he was taller than her, even though she herself was rather tall.

She wanted to say something, anything - but something in Dumbledores eyes stopped her. He seemed… Disappointed? She didn’t know, but she turned away towards the door. She lifted one hand to the door, and as she touched the cold silver he said, ever so quietly,

“The password to the common room is pureblood.”

Andromeda’s eyes were down, to the handle. She took a breath, and opened the door, leaving Dumbledore stood in the middle of his office alone once more.

She walked quickly down the corridors, not wanting to encounter anyone or anything, for that matter. She’d reached the end of one corridor when it dawned on her. Where was she going? She shut her eyes tightly, in annoyance of herself. She opened her eyes and bit her lip, taking in her surroundings. There were paintings of sleeping witches and wizards, lit by the dim candle light which formed an eerie glow around her.

She walked further down the corridor, but stopped prior to hearing very low, very rushed, voices. She stopped dead in her tracks, trying not to breath, as if they may hear her. She pricked her ears trying to hear what they whispered.

“What house is she in?” One voice spoke, it was rushed, yet very harsh - a voice of someone with great power.

“I - I - don’t know yet, Professor. No one does.” another voice whispered, a males. His voice was very timid, and obviously threatened.

“Do you know if she’s arrived yet?” the first voice questioned urgently.

“No, sir. Why, can I ask, is she such an importance to you?” the second voice asked quietly.

There was a silence for a brief moment, and Andromeda knew she couldn’t stay where she was. If they found her, she didn’t know what would happen - this person was obviously intent on finding herself. She looked around where she stood. The only way out was to turn back. There still weren’t any voices, heightening her fears. She crept against the wall, slowly moving back the way she’d come. She turned her eyes to the dark shadow, back the way she’d come, trying to distinguish where she could get to without being quiet.

But she screamed out in pain, as someone had just grabbed her arm fiercely, and was immediately dragging her off. She tried to shout, but a second hand grabbed her mouth and silenced her. Her arm burned and stung, it raked through her body, up from her arm and all over her body. She felt burning tears begin to fall down her cheeks, tears that had stained her cheeks many times before. She tried to struggle from this mans grip, but it was too tight - and the more she pulled, the pain worsened.

He dragged her through a door, slamming it shut, hard. The slam echoed through the walls of the castle, into the darkness of the night. He released her mouth, and she immediately began to scream - but he was faster than her.

“Silencio!” he hissed. There was no light in the room, everything was pitch black. The man still gripped her arm, he seemed to be fussing about with something or other.

“Lumos,” he whispered, and the light glew against his face. His sleek, greasy hair, his pale skin, his crooked nose. Andromeda’s face dropped. She knew this man. She knew him so well. The name on every Death Eaters lips.

“I’m going to take this curse off you, and if you dare speak so much as one word I swear you won’t get to live to see dawn!” he murmured viciously, his grip tightened painfully, causing Andromeda to wince in agony, before loosening entirely. Andromeda took a step back, grasping her wrist in anguish. The man muttered a spell, and Andromeda knew it was the reverse spell to Silencio, yet she did not dare speak.

“Only your first night back and you’re out causing a mess, Black. Well done, I applaud you.” he muttered, stalking over towards a desk. It was layered in thick dust, books were piled up in tens. The man shoved the books off the desk in one fast, sweeping motion - causing them to clash noisily to the floor. The man paid no will to it, and seemed to be hurriedly searching for something on the old wooden desk. Andromeda took the chance to look around the room; it was an abandoned classroom. The walls were hung with old, dead paintings; there was a thick layer of dust over everything. The air was tainted with death and longing.

“Sit down!” the man ordered, pointing to the chair before his desk. He leaned forward against the desk, his hands pushing down on the wood. He looked up at Andromeda; his eyes narrowed - cold and dark.

“I think its time we had a little talk, don’t you agree? Its been long overdue.” he snarled, his short black hair falling around his pale face, outlining his black eyes.