Death Eaters

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Ride or Die

Summary: The Death Eaters are an outlaw motorcycle club run by Tom Riddle, a notoriously ruthless leader who gradually works the brotherhood into high stakes criminal activity after the death of their previous president. Draco Malfoy is heir to the throne, but his life abruptly changes when fate lands him in the hands of a young doctor who is about to get in way over her head. Dramione, Muggle AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Credit where credit is due, Joanne Rowling.

A/N: This story is an expansion of my one shot of the same name from my Amortentia short story collection. It will contain excerpts from the original one shot (including this introduction), but will be mostly new material. A note: the content of this story includes a great deal of explicit language and violence, more so than some of my other works. Please note that I don't personally condone the behavior in this story (particularly gun violence), and this is entirely a work of fiction.

The first chapter is largely a prelude to the story, so will be a bit shorter than future installments. Thank you for reading! Here we go.

Post-submission edit, November 2020: While this fic was originally written 2016-2017, the volume of my fics recently reposted to Wattpad without my permission has led me to believe it would be easiest to just make my stories available here. I am not making any changes, and I'm leaving in all my original author's notes. They are probably embarrassing... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it is what it is. Enjoy!

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Chapter 1: Death Eaters

"This is fucking insane," Theo muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "Dumbledore never had us do shit like this."

"Relax," Draco told him, looking up as a car drove by. Not them. "Dumbledore didn't exactly pay out, either." He kicked out one foot, crossing it over the other. "No risk, no reward."

"I'm not going to fucking relax," Theo countered roughly, raking a hand through his hair. The tattoo on his wrist was stark against his pale skin. "This is bullshit, Draco. Who the fuck are we meeting?"

"Theo," Draco warned, giving him a cautionary glance. It went unnoticed.

"Riddle's a fucking lunatic," Theo continued, scowling. "Fucking guns and shit - this is not our game," he growled, slamming his hand on the trunk of the Impala they rarely used. "I didn't fucking sign up to die today."

After a week, it was becoming a tired argument.

"Theo," Draco repeated coolly, shading his eyes from the afternoon sun, "shut the fuck up."

Theo grunted his opposition to this idea, but as expected, he did as he was bade. Hierarchy demanded it.

Besides, Draco was fucking right.

"There," Draco said, jutting his chin out to reference the approaching car; it was an XLR that looked more than a little out of place pulling behind a warehouse. "Fuckers," he added under his breath, shaking his head. "Incognito apparently doesn't mean what it used to."

Theo said nothing, swallowing uneasily as the front passenger got out of the car, taking a wary look around before strutting towards them. The man, large-set and tall, was thoroughly bearded and fully overdressed, clad in a dark suit and even darker sunglasses. He offered them both a stiff nod, his grey hair slicked back from his face.

"Malfoy?" he called gruffly, glancing between Draco and Theo.

"Me," Draco replied, stepping forward. "Greyback?"

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