Title: To Love a Death Eater 1/3

Author: Kassandra Ramsey

Rating: R

Pairing: Blaise Zabini and Joyce (OC)

Summary: A prequel to 'Someone to Watch Over Me'

How Joyce and Blaise got together.

Warning: Rated R for attempted rape, violence, and consensual sex

A/N: I said this would be a one-shot. I'm making it a three-parter instead! You don't have to have read StWOM to understand this, but it might help. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

To Love a Death Eater

"Congratulations, it's a boy!" Joyce proclaimed, holding up the squalling infant for the new parents to admire.

She cast a few quick spells to clean the baby, and check for any health problems. Finding none, she summoned a soft blanket, and wrapped him up tight.

This had been her fifteenth delivery, and at twenty-two years of age, that was quite an accomplishment.

After making sure that her patients were comfortable, she handed them over to the nurse, and headed out the door. It had been a long and grueling day, and the she just wanted to get home to her cat, and a nice hot bubble bath.

Joyce nodded to a few nurses and healers on her way to the women's locker room in the back of St. Mungo's. Once inside she peeled off her gloves and outer robe, then vigorously scrubbed her hands under the faucet.

As she dried her hands, she studied her reflection in the mirror.

Her long brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her small, but bright blue eyes looked weary, and her pale, freckled complexion was shiny with oil. She was just shy of five feet, and quite plump. All in all she looked like a thirty-year-old mother of three, not a twenty-two year old intern. This was probably why her patients trusted her so much, and why she hadn't had a date in years.

She sighed heavily, and grabbing her bag, apparated home.

Well, it was actually her Great Grandfather's home, but it was where she'd been living since her parents had died last year.

An hour later found her soaking in her huge marble bathtub. Merlin, her orange tabby cat, batted at the raspberry scented bubbles, while she became engrossed in a muggle romance novel. Her weakness. She lifted her wineglass to her lips to take a sip and ended up dropping it into the tub as the bathroom door flew open.

"Grandpa Abe, really! Can't you knock?" she cried, sinking low in the bubbles to hide herself from view.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding a bit sorry at all.

"We have some things to discuss," he began, looking quite nervous.

"Grandpa? Can this wait five minutes?"

"Well, I really don't..."

"Grandpa Abe! I refuse to discuss anything with you while I'm in the bathtub! Please remove yourself from my room, and I'll meet you in your study in five minutes."

He opened his mouth to argue, but cowered at the scowl on his Great Granddaughter's face.

"All right then, be quick about it," he mumbled and walked out the door.

Exactly five minutes later Joyce entered her Great Grandfather's study. He was sitting at his desk, staring into space.

"Grandpa?"

He roused from whatever daydream he'd been having, and sent her a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry I didn't knock."

Joyce shook her head as she felt the anger toward him recede a little. It wasn't his fault that he was a bit absent-minded.

"It's all right Grandpa Abe. Now, please tell me what you want to discuss," she requested sinking into one of the leather chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

He lifted his wand and summoned a glass of brandy.

"You're going to need it," he said, pushing it toward her.

She simply nodded, hoping he'd get on with it.

"I've found you a husband."

She spit a mouthful of brandy onto his desk.

Joyce saw a faint blur rush past her eyes, then the mess vanished. House elf.

She took a deep breath, determined to keep her temper.

"I wasn't aware that you were looking for a husband for me, Grandfather," she said, smoothly.

He was looking at her warily, as if waiting for her to hit him.

"Well, you're not getting any younger..."

Joyce was unable to stop from glaring at him, and he flinched.

"I want the truth, Grandpa. All of it, now," she demanded.

He sighed.

"You're not going to like the truth."

"Well, I'm not liking your lies either."

"Fine. I was gambling with Dunn."

"Tell me you didn't loose the house!"

"Are you mad? I'd never wager the house. I was born here, and I'll die here."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Then what did you wager?"

His eyes dropped to his clasped hands in his lap, and he mumbled something.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

"You."

"What?"

She could feel the dread building in the pit of her stomach.

"I had a very good hand, but I was out of money."

"So you offered him me to let you stay in the game?" she asked, incredulously.

"Actually, it was his idea."

She took a few minutes to digest this little tidbit.

"So, he wants me to what? Be his slave?"

"No, he wants to marry you."

She snorted.

"Why on Earth would anyone want to marry me?"

"I'd be lying if I said you were a looker, cause your not. But you're not ugly either. Besides, Dunn wants a pureblood heir. There aren't many pureblood women left that aren't related to him."

She summoned the bottle of brandy and poured herself another glass.

"I've known Nicholas Dunnington almost all of my life. He's a reasonable man, I'll just have to go and speak with him tomorrow. Make him see reason."

"I'm afraid that not even you'll be able to change his mind."

"We'll just see about that."

Joyce giggled as she crawled into bed that night. For the first time in her life she felt like the heroine in one of her romance novels. Her virtue being gambled away by her guardian.

If this had been a romance novel, her new fiancé would be handsome and kind, but misunderstood.

She sighed as the reality of her situation came crashing down around her. Her Grandpa had signed a legal contract, and unless Mr. Dunnington agreed, it would be almost impossible to get out of it.

Nicholas Dunnington was not what one would consider 'husband material'. His extracurricular activities were a favorite of the community's gossips. He loved women, all of them. Joyce had known him since she was a child. He was about thirty years older than she was, and while that wasn't too uncommon in the Wizarding Community, it still made her shudder.

There were also rumors that he was involved with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters.

No, this would never do.

She settled down beneath her blankets, resolutely pushing all thoughts from her mind so that she could sleep. She felt Merlin curl up on her pillow, and drifted off to the hypnotic sound of his purring.

The following evening, Blaise Zabini watched himself in the mirror as he slipped the Death Eater mask over his face. He couldn't believe his life had come to this. It was hard to believe that only a few months ago he had been a student at Hogwarts. His parents were dead by the same hand he served now. He wanted to bring Voldemort down, but knew the only way to get close to him would be to earn his trust. It had been easy to convince Malfoy and Nott that he'd wanted to join. Tonight was his initiation. They were going to have him kill someone.

He didn't know if he could do it. Would they kill him on sight if he suddenly refused? His biggest fear was of actually going through with this. He felt so empty, cold, and detached. Would taking someone's life finally push him past that final line? Would he become a monster like the one he was trying to destroy?

He glanced down at the photo of his parents. That waved up at him, merrily. If only they were here to tell him what to do.

He let out a humorless laugh.

If they were still here none of this would be necessary.

Blaise gasped and stumbled back at the sudden burning pain on his left arm. It hadn't hurt this bad when they'd burned it onto his arm a few days ago.

He watched in horrid fascination as the Dark Mark began to glow and pulsate.

"It hurts worse the first time," a snobbish voice drawled.

He whirled around to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.

He sent Draco a glare, and quickly covered his arm with the sleeve of the long, black, cloak.

Draco walked over to the dresser and picked up the picture of Blaise's parents.

"Not having seconds thoughts, are you?" he asked.

"No," Blaise answered being careful to keep his face impassive.

"Good. I'm to take you to Dunnington's house. Apparently he's done something to earn the wrath of the Dark Lord. You are to eliminate him with the killing curse. Once you've cast it, a few more of us will join you, and we will remove evidence of Death Eater involvement."

"I thought he wanted people to know..."

"Not this time. Mr. Dunnington has wronged our Lord in a private matter, and we are to be discreet."

Blaise nodded, and hoped he looked more confident than he felt.

"Lets go then."

Draco looked as if he was going to say something else, then changed his mind, and held out a portkey.

Joyce had never been so terrified in her life.

When she'd come to Dunnington's office earlier that day, she'd been informed by his secretary that he would be in an important meeting all day long, but that she was expected at his residence this evening.

Joyce hadn't wanted to go to his house, but decided that the sooner she spoke with him, the sooner she could get this mess straightened out.

She'd arrived at six, and promptly began discussing the contract her Grandpa had signed. He'd waved away her protestations, saying that he needed an heir, and she would give it to him. This had upset Joyce greatly, and she had flatly refused.

Unfortunately, her refusal had angered him, and he got the idea that if he could make her pregnant right now, then she would willingly marry him.

He'd moved faster than she had, slipping her wand from her pocket, and forcing her down on a nearby sofa had. She kicked and screamed as he'd pulled at her robes.

The real terror hit her when she realized that he was much stronger than she was, and there was no way she could stop him. She started crying, and begging him to let her go. She even promised to marry him, if he'd just let her go.

He was unmoved, and slapped her, hard, when she'd let out a piercing scream.

She continued to struggle, even though she knew it was futile. She refused to allow the despair to swallow her whole.

Blaise crept silently through Dunnington's house. He was heading toward the front parlor, where he could here the sounds of a struggle.

He felt a flicker of hope at the thought that there was someone else with his victim. Maybe he wouldn't have to commit the murder because there was a witness.

He looked through the door, which had been left open just a crack, to see Dunnington forcing a woman onto a sofa.

Blaise watched in horrified fascination as she cried, and begged him to stop. After a few more minutes of struggle, Dunnington was able to rip her robes open down the front, baring her large breasts.

The woman let out and ear-splitting scream as he roughly grabbed her chest. Dunnington scowled and slapped her.

Something snapped in Blaise's head and he found himself hurrying into the room, wand drawn.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Joyce froze as she heard a cold voice shout the forbidden words.

There was a flash of bright green light, and then Dunnington keeled over dead.

Her relief at being saved was short-lived as she looked up to see a masked Death Eater.

She pulled at her torn robes, trying to cover herself with little success.

Joyce watched in shock as the Death Eater pulled off his long black cloak and handed it to her.

She quickly wrapped his cloak tightly around herself, wishing she could just stay hidden for the rest of her life.

Suddenly the room was filled with masked Death Eaters. The one who'd saved her quickly moved to stand in front of her, not allowing anyone else near her.

One masked man walked over to talk to 'her' Death Eater.

"We can't leave her here alive. She knows to much," he said softly.

"I won't let them kill her," he answered back, meeting the other man's eyes, defiantly.

He nodded, and handed him a small object.

"This will take you back to the Dark Lord. It'll be up to you, after that."

Her Death Eater kneeled down beside her. After making sure no one was looking at him, he pulled off his mask so that she could see his face.

"I know you're scared, but it's not over yet. I promise you'll live if you do exactly what I say. Otherwise, you will die. Do you understand?"

Joyce stared into his dark brown eyes and nodded solemnly. She didn't want to die, even if it meant facing You-Know-Who.

He held out the object that the other man had given him. She touched it, and they were whisked away.

End part 1/3