Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4121866.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Gen, M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      James_Potter/Lily_Evans_Potter, Harry_Potter/_Voldemort
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Tom_Riddle_|_Voldemort, Albus_Dumbledore, Lily_Evans
      Potter, Original_Characters, James_Potter, Sirius_Black, Bellatrix
      Lestrange, All_other_Harry_Potter_characters, Gliese_White
  Additional Tags:
      Assassin!Harry, Dark!Harry, psychotic!Harry, Harry_never_went_to_Hogwarts
      cliche, Intelligent!Harry, powerful!Harry, No_Bashing_on_anyone_if_I_can
      help_it, WBWL_cliche, Harry_has_a_younger_brother_who_is_that_WBWL
      cliche, Badass!Harry, lots_of_death, gory_death, You_Have_Been_Warned,
      Sadistic_thoughts_while_those_deaths_happen, Kind_of_main_character
      death, NO_ONE_IS_SAFE_GoT_SHIT_OVA_HERE, This_is_posted_on_FF_btw, Should
      I_add_something_else?, Tags_subject_to_change_as_I_update, Not_your_usual
      Harry_Potter/_Voldemort_relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-12 Updated: 2015-07-17 Chapters: 12/? Words: 36960
****** Malicious Intentions ******
by Apathetic_Lambchoppi_(Apathetic_Lambchoppi)
Summary
     Harry Potter, older brother to the supposed BWL, disappeared at the
     tender age of four. After major abuse at the hands of his new family,
     Harry escaped them and grew up to be a powerful, psychopathic
     assassin. With no conscience, an angelic face (not just for no
     reason, just so you know) and intellect rivaling the two Lord's he's
     decided to play with, which side will he join? Or will he be on no
     one's side but his own? Watch as Harry juggles with his own
     terrifying past, irritating do-gooders, and a hunger for power that
     may just overshadow Voldemort's own. Will he succeed, or will our
     Harry face the same fate he's gifted so many others?
Notes
     This is a story I've had on fanfiction.net for awhile and it's under
     the same name as on here--Apathetic Lambchoppi. I will slowly but
     surely update all my chapters on here as well, but not super fast. I
     have 11, counting this one, so far uploaded, so I suppose if you
     really like it you can go there and read. Hope you like and please
     tell me your thoughts. :)
***** Prologue *****
  I may look happy, but honestly dear, the only way I will really smile is if
                            you cut me ear to ear.
                            - bring me the horizon
===============================================================================
In the cold, dark streets of London sat the actual Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, no
one actually knew this, for his brother was supposedly the Chosen One.
At the moment, he was kneeling on the roof of one of the various clubs in the
city, waiting for his prey to show itself.
The bright white moon shone on his sharp features, but for some reason he was
still able to remain out of sight. Finally, the mudblood exited the building,
his drunkenness obvious from his struggle to walk.
Two girls were hanging onto his arms, drunk as well. Harry smirked darkly to
himself. He always preferred it when there were witnesses.
He took out his L115A3 AWM sniper rifle. (He never killed with his wand, just
in case the Ministry ever got suspicious and tried to get involved. It took
time for magical residue to fade.) It was pure black, with a green barrel. All
of his bullets were a matching green, an Avada Kedavra green, which was his
signature. He cocked it, and prepared to take his shot.
He had put many charms on his gun, since he wasn't about to rely on completely
muggle weapons. That would be idiotic. For example, it was charmed to never run
out of bullets, as long as he still had some in his possession, for you can't
make things appear completely out of thin air. It took too much time to
constantly transfigure items around him into new bullets and never having to
manually refill his gun had saved his lifemany times.
This wizard, supposedly a part of the Wizengamot, was a muggle-lover and very
influential. Based on his current...situation, he didn't seem like the most
threatening sheep. Yes, Harry thought, anyone who gets so drunk without
protection is obviously an idiot. Who knew who could be trailing you?
So, Harry took one shot to his greasy face, cackling in his head on how the two
strippers reacted. Their blonde hair stained red like their whore lipstick.
Their screams were pure bliss to him. But, like always, he couldn't dawdle, so
he took his leave. Not one more thought wasted on how he just murdered a man in
cold blood.


***** What Terrible Parents *****
  We are who we are, they say. But from the moment we could understand what's
happening, we realize, people never want you to be yourself- they just want to
                      see the self that they want to see.
                               - Chad M. Lagiza
===============================================================================
After taking care of business, Harry calming walked to his car and turned on
the engine. It practically purred.
Harry could apparate, even though he was only 16, but he preferred driving. The
feeling of being trapped reminded him of too many bad memories…
He drove down the streets at a speed much faster than the limit and went to his
apartment. He lived on the richer side of town just because he never did like
to live poorly. He was a man of comfort, after all.
After pulling into the back parking area and warding his car with notice-me-
not charms and wards that didn't allow anyone to enter it besides himself, he
walked up to his "home".
It wasn't huge, but it was very stylish, you could say. The walls were a royal
purple embroidered with silver. The floor was covered in a dark wood with plush
silver rugs littered in various places.
There was a kitchen, which had a more warm feeling to it. The floor was the
same dark wood and the walls were a creamy color. He had regular appliances
like a fridge, stove, coffee maker, etc. All very muggle.
Harry had always been a good cook, even though those skills had been wasted on
the Dursley's. Now, he only treated himself.
In the back, down a short hallway, was his training room. It had many forms of
exercise equipment and there was another door in that room leading to all his
weapons. Of course that door was very carefully hidden and warded to the best
of his ability. On the other side of that hallway was a small library where he
kept all of his books. There was a desk where he could work and a small leather
couch beside a large bay window where he sat to read.
His bedroom was teal and black. The bed was huge and had silk sheets. Harry was
happy with his living quarters, even though that's all they were. His homehad
been gone for a very long time. However, he still liked the place because not
only did it have everything he needed, but it was surrounded by muggles (not
that he liked muggles, it's just that it's easier to obliviate them than
wizards) and had the strongest wards he could create, which were very strong
indeed. Since Harry could feel magic, a skill he had learned long ago, he had
quickly learned what would take others years. It also helped that the one who
taught him had been a Ward Master herself, but that's beside the point.
He took off all of his weapons and set them on the sink in his bathroom. He
never went anywhere, even in his own home, without at least one gun and his
wand. He slowly peeled off his black under armor turtleneck and cotton pants.
His dragon hide boots came off with them.
He dragged one slender hand through his curly raven-black locks. He looked into
the mirror, taking in the face that didn't quite fit him. Silky hair curled
under his sharp jawline in what most would think an adorable way. Creamy white
skin with not a blemish in sight, besides the fresh-looking scar that adorned
his forehead. A small, straight nose and pink cupid's-bow lips made his face
look even sweeter. He had the high cheekbones and hollowed cheeks that he knew
most purebloods had, a trait adopted from his 'father'.
All of this together completely masked what hid underneath. He looked angelic,
but Harry was anything but an angel.
Harry had always been happy with his appearance. Not that he cared if he was
handsome or not, it was just easier to manipulate if you had a nice face. He
was tall, a nice 5'11, but his lithe build just made him look small, innocent.
Along with his perfect, child-like features, most wouldn't expect anything out
of him.
No one suspected him to be an experienced killer with a psychopathic mind. All
thought him harmless. Either way, Harry didn't really care. If his appearance
helped him, then it was a tool that he was happy to have and take advantage of.
Besides, it was oh so fun to watch someone's face change from confusion to
absolute fear whenever he showed his true colors.
Harry grinned darkly, a grin that didn't fit his face at all, and went into the
shower. It was quick and he walked to his bedroom. Tomorrow he had a meeting
with someone named Lestrange. He had no idea what they wanted, and he could
honestly say he didn't care.
Harry didn't really care about anything anymore. He just liked to kill, and
kill he did.
===============================================================================
Lily Potter was a nice woman.
Yes, she did have a missing son and had stopped looking for him some time ago.
And yes, she didn't constantly pine over him as a normal woman would do, but
she still had another son to take care of. Why would she waste time worrying
over the past?
Who was she kidding. Lily was the worst mother in the world.
For years her relationship with her husband had been strained. All because she
had left her son by himself at the bookstore for one damn second. Everyone
acted as if good parenting was something you were born with. That you
just naturally knew what was right and wrong to do. She had called bullshit
right away.
Taking care of one child, let alone two with one of them famous for god's
sake...it was impossible. So impossible that some days she had thought she
would break under the pressure. So in a moment of weakness she had left her
Hair-Bear by himself.
Her sweet little 4 year old boy with his impossibly green eyes and messy black
curls. With all the reporters around looking for a sneak peek at the Boy-Who-
Lived, she had been about to lose it. All she wanted to do was get the new
Charms book by Rachel Yorkshire that she had been dying to read for months, but
James had been working on a job and all her other friends had children of their
own to care for...so she had to bring both of her boys with her.
And her sweet perfect Harry, her wonderful baby boy, he had gripped her hand
and taken Jason into his arms and smiled.
"Don't you worry mama. I'll take care of us."
And he had looked so sure and mature that she believed. She believed he'd
be just fine on his own for one second. But one second had been one second too
long. When she got back-she hadn't even paid for it just grabbed it off
the damn bookshelf- little Jason was just sucking his thumb and Harry was no-
where to be seen.
Just...gone.
She had screamed and shouted, scaring all those around her but she did NOT
care. When she cleared the whole shop she checked outside, accusing all those
around her of stealing one of the most precious gifts she had ever received.
For how could anyone not guilty be going about their lives like nothing had
happened? Her baby was missing. Everyone should be shouting and crying with
her.
Vile thoughts rushed through her mind...of what could be happening to her
precious and beautiful child, the worst fears of every parent and each second
slowly picked away the pieces of her heart like vultures. Eventually there was
nothing left and she went home. Fed Jason. Put him to bed. And when James came
home she cried and screamed and hated herself more than ever because she knew-
she KNEW they'd never find him. Even then she knew with thosedamn instincts
everyone said that mother's naturally had.
Well. She had them.
But they had appeared one second too late.
Now though, she told herself she had let go. Together James and her had patched
things up, and everyday she would look at her wonderful Jason, the most perfect
son she could ever ask for, and she could feel herself healing from the loss
she had suffered. And every year she would get better. Harry would become more
of a dream than anything. But then the anniversary of his disappearance would
come and all the patching she had done, the quilt of her heart, would unravel
and burn and she would hate herself. She would hate herself because whatever
happened to her Harry was her fault. And the looks James sent her that day and
the few weeks after would only make the flames burn brighter and higher. And
she knew she had messed up irreversibly. She knew it.
But today was not that day. Today thoughts of Harry were in the back of her
mind, simmering on the stove, forgotten and just dying to boil over. And when
James came up behind her and kissed her neck she actually reveled in the warmth
his love provided. Like she fucking deserved comfort. And she thought that
maybe she wasn't the worst woman in the world.
But hey, it was only a thought.
===============================================================================
"Wotcher Prongs! How're Prongslet and his friends?" Sirius yelled while pulling
his best friend into a bear hug.
Ever since that night when Voldemort marked Jason the two friends had become
even closer, especially since both James and Lily had been so close to death.
"Fine Padfoot. Now what's with the meeting? I didn't think You-Know-Who had
been doing anything lately."
"Yeah, he hasn't. But Snivellus heard that some of the Death Eaters are
inviting another guy into the fold, supposedly a really powerful one. Since
they'll all be in one place, we might be able to kill off- I mean capture some
of the most powerful Inner Circle members all at once."
James's eyebrows crinkled with worry. "What about this new guy? Why is he so
powerful?"
"We don't know, but I guess he hasn't chosen a side yet, so he might fight with
us." James's eyes lightened at the thought.
If a bunch of those bastards went to a meeting just for one guy and the Light
managed to get him, then they might have a chance to win without endangering
Jason.
"Come on, there should be more information in the meeting. I, for one, am just
excited to finally get a chance to take down dear Bellatrix."
Sirius's eyes were filled with sadistic glee. He playfully started rubbing his
hands together like an evil genius.
"MWAHAHAHA!" James shoved him lightly and said, "Merlin Padfoot, people will
start thinking you're psychotic."
"What if I am ickle James-y. What if I am." Sirius raised an eyebrow and dashed
into the meeting room before James could shove him again.
He just shook his head lightly and grinned at his best friend's antics. Lily
kissed her husband on the cheek, grinning as well. They both went inside the
room, not knowing that this moment was when everything was set in motion.
***** Meeting Destiny *****
"I regularly comment on my desire to exploit my admirers or to kill babies and
cute animals, and I don't even need to laugh or smile for people to think I am
                                   joking."
 ― M.E. Thomas, Confessions of a Sociopath: A Life Spent Hiding in Plain Sight
===============================================================================
"Come in, come in! Let us get this meeting started shall we?" Dumbledore's eyes
twinkled and he beckoned all his former students forward.
They all sat at a circular table. Those that were present were: James Potter,
Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley
Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, Lily Potter, Minerva Mcgonagall, and finally Albus
Dumbledore himself.
"So what's the rub Headmaster? Who's the new player in town?"
"Patience Mr. Black. Wait for Severus to tell his tale." Dumbledore folded his
old, wrinkled hands together and gave Snape an encouraging smile, not that he
needed it.
"Of course, Headmaster." He sneered.
"Supposedly, there is a powerful assassin living in London. The Dark Lord has
heard of his skills and has decided to have a...chat with him. Tomorrow night
at 8:30 P.M Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers, Malfoy, and Barty Crouch Junior
are going to meet him in some dark club called "The Ripper's Cauldron."'
"An assassin? Are we sure he would fight with us? Doesn't seem like the type to
support the Light." Shacklebolt said.
"He is also supposed to be very young. Not even 20, though I doubt it. He could
still be influenced to see the… Light." Snape mentally rolled his eyes at
Shacklebolt's antics. Not everything was so black and white. Who knew what this
man's circumstances were?
"Of course you are right Severus. He was most likely just forced into that line
of work from not having any other way to survive." Albus's eyes glittered at
the thought of saving another's soul like how he was not able to save poor
Tom's. He would never forgive himself for making that dreadful mistake.
"What's he called?" Sirius asked.
"Most call him "Montresor". It's from one of Poe's short stories, A Cask of
Amontillado." Everyone but Dumbledore stared at Snape with confusion.
"It's muggle literature you dolts. Do any of you actually read?" James and
Sirius both glared, but they all realized now was not the time to argue.
"Yes, hopefully we can help this poor young man before he's in Voldemort's
clutches." They all shivered at the use of his name.
"I would like all of us besides Minerva, Severus, and myself to attend this
mission. If you need to stay with your son, Lily, or if this is not a good time
Remus, that is perfectly fine. But having the opportunity to capture so many
members of Tom's Inner Circle is a top priority. We mustn't fail everyone. For
all of our sake's."
===============================================================================
Harry woke up suddenly. He never had to set an alarm, for his inner clock was
honed to perfection. Like always, he didn't dream. Ever since he let go of all
of his feelings of fear and self-hatred, he never thought about what had
happened to him ever again, and the dreams died with them.
He walked to his wardrobe, not making a single sound. He went to exercise like
he always did in the mornings and then made some food for himself. After that,
he went and read some of his books.
After reading about language, Potions, some Transfiguration, and of course, his
favorite, Ancient Runes, he dressed for the meeting at 8:30. He allowed whoever
it was to choose the time, but he chose the place. He had many allies in that
club, and he would never go anywhere with anybody unless he was familiar with
the area they were in.
It was precautionary, for who knew what they wanted from him? Harry was many
things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He dressed in a pair of black slacks, a
simple white shirt, and a soft leather jacket. He also wore his favorite pair
of dragon-hide boots, black as well. He brushed his curly locks and equipped
his wand and two handguns.
He wasn't about to carry around a huge sniper rifle, even though he would have
preferred to. He also made sure to put on the standard knives and daggers. You
could never be too careful. He walked slowly to his car; he was in no hurry,
and drove off to what would be a turning point in his life.
===============================================================================
"Damn, We've been here for over 10 minutes! When is he gonna get here?" Crouch
complained. His amber eyes and dirty-blonde hair didn't quite fit his crazed
expression.
"Patience, Barty," Malfoy drawled, "How do we know he isn't already here and
isn't just watching us? Hmmm?"
Barty looked around and his eyes widened comically.
"Don't tease the poor boy." Rudolphus chastised. "Poor thing looks like he's
about to have an aneurysm." Rabastian finished for him. They both laughed
together evilly.
"Now I wouldn't mind seeing that." Bella's rich brown eyes glittered with
malice, her bosom heaving with excitement.
"Calm down pet. You can play with Wormtail once we get back to the Manor." Her
husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Bella didn't once stop grinning.
All of a sudden they all felt a rush of dark magic similar to their Master's.
While his was colder and reeked of more power, this magic was more seductive.
It felt like a succubus; you knew it was bad, but it was so good you couldn't
resist. They all breathed it in, just letting the feeling wash over them.
"It seems that you all should be a bit more paranoid then, because I've been
here the whole time." A light, musical voice flew over them just like the
speaker's magic.
Bella, surprisingly, recovered first. "Good evening Mr. Montresor. It's
a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Bella may have be insane, but that didn't make her any less intelligent. She
knew now that they weren't just dealing with anyone. This man could be
her lord. She wasn't about to mess this up for her real one.
"Please, my lady, the pleasure is all mine." He stepped out of the shadows,
revealing his face for the first time.
He wore a devilish smirk that looked odd on his cherub-like features, but for
some reason made him look all the more handsome. Bella was reminded of Lucifer
immediately.
He took her hand and kissed it softly with those light pink lips. If I was ten
years younger…she thought to herself. He just grinned all the more, as if he
knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Well, not that I haven't enjoyed all of your staring, I believe we should get
to business. Firstly, though, I would like to know who all I am speaking to. I
believe that makes correspondence ever so much easier."
He glided over to their booth and took a seat; back facing the wall. They could
all tell that he had already warded the entire booth. If you tried you could
feel the magic exuding from it.
"What about your name pretty boy? It's not like you're actually named
Montresor." Barty growled.
He was still angry about having been caught unawares. Harry just looked at him.
It was odd to say the least. Any thoughts that they may have had that they
weren't dealing with someone dangerous were abruptly thrown out the figurative
window. His seemingly carefree and arrogant features morphed into a cold
looking mask, but they all realized that this wasn't a mask at all. This was
his real face.
He was still beautiful, perhaps even more so, because now he looked dark. Now
he looked dangerous.
"You will know my name when I wish for it to be known, sir. You were the one's
that called this meeting, therefore you owe me an explanation, not the other
way around. I can leave right now. I do not owe you anything. Do not presume
that I do, or I'll be forced to remove such silly thoughts out of your little
head. Are we understood?"
Harry's voice was cold and emotionless as he said it. At times the words he
said felt as if they should have been spoken with anger or sarcasm, but none of
them were. Everything he said was in a cool and calm monotone, those unnerving
eyes never blinking. Suffice it to say, it was 10x scarier than anything they
had ever heard or been faced with, besides their Lord of course. None of them
doubted the threat he made at Crouch and they all, once again, realized that
they weren't just dealing with anybody. They were dealing with someone on their
Master's level, or at least someone around it.
"Of course." Lucius bowed his light-golden hair covered head respectfully.
Harry's face abruptly changed. It was now back to the carefree and arrogant
one. The only one not fearful was Bellatrix, and that was because she realized
that this new player would be their key to victory.
This is going to be so much fun.
Harry caught her eye and grinned, if you could call it that. It was more of a
baring of teeth and it was predatory, but it showed his agreement.
Yes. What fun.
***** The Killer Within *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings below if you're squeamish!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
            "Take your worst nightmares, and put my face to them."
                               -Tommy Lynn Sells
===============================================================================
"Seriously Sirius? Get the FUCK OFF." James exclaimed.
"Yes I am so seriously serious. However, I am also named Sirius,
like seriously." Sirius flicked his hand down and rolled his eyes in a very
not-manly way.
"Seriously-I mean, just shut the fuck up Padfoot." Sirius just grinned in
reply.
"How about you both shut the fuck up hmmm?" Snape growled.
"I concur!" Tonks said happily. The three enemies stared at her in disbelief.
She just continued smiling.
"Quit bickering and move! We need to get to the club in time. Who knows how
long we have before they scatter?" Moody whispered.
They all trudged onward, cloaking their obviously Light auras to the best of
their ability. Overly Light and Dark wizards, or wizards who had practiced one
type of magic or the other only, could sense when another wizard was partial to
their opposite type of magic. Since most of them were overwhelmingly Light
wizards, besides Snape and surprisingly Moody, in a very Dark area, they needed
to hide.
They soon came upon an obnoxiously light-lit bar with the words "Ripper's
Cauldron" written across the top. The letters were crimson-colored and seemed
to have an inner glow, similar to fluorescent lights in the Muggle World.
"Come on. We need to see if they're there yet or not." Shacklebolt motioned
them all inside and they all stood off in various positions, trying their best
to look casual, and checked for familiar faces.
===============================================================================
"So you see, Mr. Montresor, it would be prudent of you to join our Lord. There
is a war coming and it would be best if you choose our side."
Harry just wanted to laugh. Like he hadn't already thought of joining the Dark
Lord? The only reason why he hadn't was because he refused to be anyone's
servant. If Harry were to join with Voldemort he would either be paid or
treated as a partner.
He didn't care how powerful he was; he would never let someone mark him. Never
again.
All of a sudden Harry felt a wave of disgustingly Light magic with a tinge of
dark and, dare he say it, werewolf? Harry felt the insane urge to giggle. The
only werewolf that would be with the Light would be Remus Lupin. So, this must
be the Order of the Phoenix. Did these Death Eaters really allow that group of
idiots to learn of their plans? How pathetic.
Harry made sure to enhance his wards so it seemed like they were all still
talking about their plans, or simply very easy to ignore, while he said, "I
hate to cut this wonderful evening short, but we have company. In the Light
variety. I would say to get your wands out, but I see you all already have.
Good. Since I'm sure they have come for both you and me, I will fight with you.
However, do not take this as an agreement. I will meet with your Lord, then
make a decision on where my loyalties lie. We shall make arrangements at a
later date."
Harry turned toward his favorite person in the small group. "Care to play
together Lady Lestrange? I have a feeling it would be most fun to be your
dueling partner."
Bella smiled manically at Harry and he gave her a sadistic grin back.
She's like a rabid dog…. I believe we shall be the best of friends.
They all stood up smoothly, even Barty Crouch; he wasn't part of the Inner
Circle for nothing. They prepared themselves and with a nod from each of them,
Harry snapped his fingers and pandemonium ensued.
===============================================================================
The Order of the Phoenix members had been watching a man cloaked in black and
many members of the Inner Circle talking for some time now. However, all of a
sudden, it seemed like a false cover was ripped off of them.
In their place were all the of Death Eater's with their wands raised and a boy,
probably not more than 15 years old, with a face they would have never expected
to see with a group of infamous Death Eaters.
The boy reeked of power and he slowly raised his wand arm. His face was
disfigured with an evil expression promising death and pain. His Avada Kedavra
green eyes glowed in the dark and he whispered something.
It seemed like everyone but the Order heard what he said, for all other
customers exited the building quickly. The bartender nodded his head in the
boy's direction in thanks and apparated out as well.
This all happened in a span of 3 seconds. Montresor then cocked his head,
looking more like a child then he ever had before. His musical voice was filled
with dark humor and was sweet like honey, almost too sweet. "Good evening."
Then it all went to hell.
Various spells went off from each side. Greens, dark reds, and purples in the
form of dark curses came from Harry's side and bursts of yellow, blue, and red
came from the other.
While the Death Eaters were a powerful force, Harry was a being all his own.
His wand shot off various dark spells. He hadn't yet said the killing curse,
but that was because you couldn't erase the memory of your wand if you cast an
unforgivable for about two weeks. Spells that powerful left a residue that
couldn't be removed easily.
So for now, Harry played nice. Besides, cutting curses were so much more fun.
It seemed that somehow one of those damn Order members summoned back-up for
there were now over a dozen aurors inside the club.
For a moment the other Death Eater's seemed to despair, but Harry just smirked
over his shoulder and whispered, "Not to worry my dearies. The more the
merrier, right?"
Most of the time they would have just ignored anyone with such confidence, but
they had felt the full extent of Harry's magic. There was no way they would
lose tonight.
Bella grinned to her new favorite playmate and the Lestrange brothers both
winked at him. Harry realized that even if he didn't join the Dark Lord, he had
a feeling he would continue fraternizing with these dark wizards/witch.
Especially Ms. Bellatrix. Harry decided to forgo his wand and began shooting
wizards with his guns. Heads, arms, and legs blew off everywhere and soon
enough Harry was covered in blood and gore. He truly looked like some sort of
demon, with his baring of teeth and eyes widened with sadistic glee.
He began to cackle, for he had never been in such a battle before. Yes, it was
satisfying to kill one person at a time, but there were so many! And the
screams were like an orchestra. So many different pitches and wonderfully
varied lengths of shrieks.
One after another just randomly ending, which signified another had died, and
if that didn't send a pleasant shiver down his spine... All the screams seemed
to work together in harmony and Harry just wanted to sigh in complete and utter
pleasure. So he did. And then he laughed some more and the cycle began again.
He could practically taste the fear in the air. Fear of him. Yes…this was what
life was about. Unfortunately, soon all the backup aurors were killed and they
were left with fighting the strongest Light people, Order members.
"Love, as much fun this has been, I need to take care of dear couzie." Bella
bit Harry on the shoulder and kissed his cheek, staining it with blood from her
latest victim. It seemed that Bella enjoyed ripping throats out…literally. Who
knew?
"Of course my dear. We will have to do this again." Bella just nodded
vigorously in agreement and skipped away, cackling madly as she went.
Harry was soon faced with Shacklebolt, a supposedly very powerful auror. They
dueled for a few minutes, but Harry soon became bored so he sent a cutting
curse at his stomach.
Intestines and guts spilled to the ground and his eyes bugged out in a way
Harry thought extremely funny. Harry raced up to him and held all of his organs
in place. Green eyes bore down into fearful brown.
"Yes my dear sweet lamb. You feel that? That's your life slipping away." While
Harry whispered all of this in a strangely in-awe tone, he gently lay the
shocked auror to the ground. The screams and sounds of battle continued to echo
around them, but to those two it seemed as if they were in their own little
world.
"You're going to die tonight and there's nothing you can do about it." The
complete and utter truth in that statement made Shacklebolt's eyes widen and
mouth open as if he meant to say something, but nothing came out. All he
managed to do was blink frequently and repeatedly open and close his lips. Lips
stained with blood.
Harry then reached inside his chest, ripped out his heart, and showed it to
Shacklebolt. Green eyes shone with something the dying man couldn't identify,
but was completely terrified of, at the sight of the still-beating organ.
"You can survive 15 seconds without your heart Mr. Shacklebolt. I
cannot wait to see the lights leave your eyes."
They stared at each other, a single tear falling down the black man's cheek.
Harry grinned, his eyes speaking of the insanity usually hidden within so many
masks. Harry made sure to show his real self whenever he killed up close, for
didn't any who were murdered so personally deserve to see their executioner's
real face?
"Goodnight." Harry whispered, and his final breath was taken.
Chapter End Notes
     WARNINGS: Battle Scene, Semi-Main Character Death, Psychotic Musings,
     Gore, Detailed death, etc, :D
***** First Impressions *****
Chapter Notes
     I am seriously not happy with this chapter. So, I'm going to go ahead
     and post ch. 6 to make up for it. :D Hope you enjoy Harry and
     Voldemort meeting for the first time!
     WARNINGS: Not very good writing
  "When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help."
                   ― Thomas Harris,The Silence of the Lambs
===============================================================================
                                        
It was beyond awful.
It was hell.
His friends, people he had known for his whole life, dropped one by one.
Screaming from their side and cackling from the other could be heard clearly.
The Death Eaters were like demons, and that boy, that Montresor, was Satan
himself.
Like he would ever come to the Light. There was no way that such an evil,
twisted boy would ever fight for what's right.
All of a sudden it was over.
They had won. And they were going to die.
They were all going to  die.
And the fear was so overwhelming that for a moment they were just shocked. It
couldn't be true. Life couldn't end on the dirty ground of a fucking bar.
But then that beautiful, childish face came into focus. His big, too-green eyes
blinked owlishly for a moment and red rubies dripped from his perfectly curved
brow.
His small, pink lips formed words that they would never remember hearing. Then
it all went black and they were gone.
===============================================================================
"What are you doing Montresor?" Lucius asked.
For some reason the boy had obliviated all the remaining Order members.
"What do you think I'm doing Lucius?" Harry made sure to hold out the "s" in
his name to make the man shiver. And strode over so he was right in Malfoy's
face.
"I'm saving my hide. If Dumbledore were to find out all his favorite minions
were killed off when they came after me then I would be blamed. I have no
interest in having one of the world's most powerful wizards of this time after
my ass. Especially since I'm not even sure if I want to join the Dark Lord. I
don't need both of them after me." Harry took one elegantly shaped finger a
licked the remaining drops of blood off of it, painting his pink lips crimson.
"Besides, why not check their minds for Dumbledore's plans? If they return
safely with wonderfully made-up memories no one would be the wiser. I'm
actually surprised none of you have ever thought of it."
By the time Harry's speech was over Barty was red in the face with outrage,
Bella was still kill-happy, and Malfoy/the Lestranges had contemplating looks
upon their faces. Rodolphus finally answered with, "A very good plan, one the
Dark Lord himself came up with. However, the old coot has put some sort of
secrecy charm on all of his closest members. Or at least, that's what he did in
the last war."
"And you either don't have the power or overriding the curse will drive them
insane before you can get to them?" Nods were what Harry was met with and he
bit his lip thoughtfully.
"Alright. So no gaining hidden information. However, there is no reason why you
can't put a tracking charm on them. It would help when knowing if they're onto
you or not. You could also see when they're meeting and where. Of course it
won't last long, but you could probably fool them for a few days."
"Yes, you're right. We'll let them live." Rabastian mumbled.
"Well...as much fun as this has been," Harry said while waving his wand and
causing all the bodies and blood to disappear. Bella pouted in the back, for
she had been prodding one of the many dead bodies.
"I really must be off. I have other deals to make, contracts to fulfill."
Before Harry could completely make his exit, Lucius handed him a small black
chain.
"This is timed to portkey you to our Lord's manor at 6:00 tomorrow night. I
would suggest going for there will be consequen-"
"And I would suggest keeping threats out of this equation. I assure you,
you will regret it." Harry gracefully left the building and whispered so
faintly they could barely hear it.
"See you at six."
===============================================================================
What the hell is going on? James slowly opened his eyes and saw what seemed to
be an alley around him.
"Lily? Padfoot? Moony? Are you guys alright?" James tried to raise his head,
but found it to be too difficult.
"Ugh. This seriously sucks."
"Really? Quit with the puns Sirius, or I SWEAR."
"Calm down Lils. You know you love it." Lily just rolled her eyes in response.
All of a sudden memories came rushing back. Fighting with the Death Eaters,
dozens of Aurors being murdered, Kingsley being killed viciously by Bellatrix,
and finally all the Death Eaters grunting in pain from their marks and
apparating out of the club.
"Do any of you remember what happened to Montresor? I can barely remember how
he looked, let alone where he went. Was he part of the fighting?"
"I don't remember him ever showing his face James. I just remember him running
out of the club once the fighting started. I don't think he's sided with the
dark quite yet. We might still have a chance."
"I just can't believe Kingsley is dead. I swear I'll kill that bitch!" Sirius
yelled.
"Come on, we need to get back to headquarters. Everyone is going to want to
know what happened."
"What happened is that we got our freaking asses kicked. The shame!"
"Quiet Sirius. Since we attacked them before they finished their meeting,
chances are they'll have another one. Next time we'll be more prepared. We just
need patience."
Then they all apparated out. No idea that bright green orbs had watched their
every move.
===============================================================================
After Harry had went home, he had made his food, worked out, and was now
sitting in his library, thinking about what he should choose.
If I don't pick a side, both the Light and Dark will be after me…I'm going to
have to choose one or the other. Being neutral is sadly no longer an option.
Harry felt the urge to throw something, for he had never wanted to be involved
in this war, but he had too much control over himself to do such a silly thing.
He stood up and strode over to one of his large bay windows and watched the
night sky; his shoulders tense with indecision.
But killing all those people was SO much fun. Maybe this is for the
best. Besides, with my help, the war will end quickly and I'll be in a place of
power. I do love power. Besides, I'm sure the Dark Lord will pay a hefty sum
for my services.
His decision made, a full-blown smile appeared on his face. However, his eyes
made it look much less sincere.
Cold green eyes glowed and spoke of death and pain. No one would be safe ever
again.
===============================================================================
Harry had had another dreamless night, but that had been the norm since he was
8 years old.
Last night he killed again. He had received over 10,000 galleons for it; a
pretty great haul for only one woman. However, the personal kills always
brought in more money, so it was to be expected. She was a pretty little thing
too, with an impish face and light blue eyes. It had been fun watching her
scream as she lost all of her appendages.
Today, Harry didn't have anything to do, besides go to that meeting at 6:00.
Unlike most, who would have been nervous about meeting one of the most powerful
wizards of all time, Harry was perfectly calm.
He made some food and worked out, again. Then he read about some new Dark
curses. It was a fruitful day for him. He actually almost forgot about going to
the meeting, but Harry rarely forgot anything. Next to nothing was ever lost
within his mind.
He went to his wardrobe and pulled on his usual outfit. A pair of black slacks,
neither loose nor tight, a dark blue shirt, and his favorite black leather
jacket which had built-in heating charms and defensive charms. He strapped in
his usual weaponry and his wand.
Since his hair was not long enough to be pulled back he let his boyish curls
frame his face. No matter how much he pushed them back, they refused to not
curl around his jawline in the most adorable fashion... Harry sighed and
grabbed onto the portkey. 5...4...3...2...1...and he was gone.
===============================================================================
The Dark Lord felt him the second he port keyed in. Even a squib probably could
if they tried hard enough.
He had heard of this assassin for quite some time now. With deadly accuracy and
no conscience, he was the perfect killer.
But no one, no one spoke of how much raw power he possessed.
It was oh so dark and absolutely delicious. Voldemort just breathed it in and
felt it curl around his own magic.
It tested and tasted it. Soon enough, it seemed that it deemed his magic
satisfactory and the magic seeped into his own. Voldemort would have sighed in
pleasure if he were a lesser man.
Never had he felt magic that was so much like his own, yet completely
different. He knew now that he had to have this boy. If he couldn't, then no
one would.
===============================================================================
Harry felt the Dark Lord's magic almost immediately. He now knew why so many
followed this man.
His magic, it was unreal. Harry almost lost himself in it, key word almost.
He just let his own magic lead him to where Voldemort was. Harry found himself
in front of two large black doors with snakes engraved everywhere.
Whatever fits your fancy I suppose.
Harry didn't bother knocking. He knew the Dark Lord could tell where he was.
Besides, he wanted to get this meeting over and done with. For some reason he
was craving some hot chocolate….
He stepped inside and bowed his waist down at a respectable angle. He didn't
care if Voldemort expected him to go on his knees, he would never do that
foranyone.
Without looking up he whispered in his light melodic voice, "Good evening Lord
Voldemort. May I say it's a true pleasure to finally meet you." His voice
echoed with his magic, for Voldemort's was making it a bit restless. He needed
to go torture someone.
"Yes. I've heard much about you my little assassin. I do hope that it's all
true."
Harry decided to look up now. He slowly lifted his upper body and cracked his
back. He ran his hand through his boyish curls and grinned sharply at the Dark
Lord. He tipped and cocked his head to the left and whispered, "Oh I assure
you my Lord. Everything and more is true about this little assassin."
Lord Voldemort's deep chuckle echoed throughout the room. "I see. Well, let's
get to business shall we?"
 
 
 
***** New Findings *****
Chapter Notes
     Now this one is much better than Ch. 5. And remember--not everything
     is as it seems. :D
 "A good friend will help you plant your tulips. A great friend will help you
              plant a gun on the unarmed intruder you just shot."
                               ― Brian P. Cleary
===============================================================================
James had been having a wonderful day, or the best that he could have nowadays.
Jason ended up getting 8 OWLS, You-Know-Who hadn't attacked anyone in over a
month, and Lily and him were getting along better than ever. Said woman wrapped
her slender arms around him and pulled him into her warm embrace. But for some
reason, all he could think about was how things should be.
Ever since-Merlin it hurt just to think about. Ever
since Harry disappeared...it had all felt so fake.
The smiles and laughs, pranks pulled and jokes told, everything was forced and
dead. Dead dead dead. Nothing real nothing alive anymore.
Sometimes, even though he would never tell anyone, he felt...he felt like
everyone and everything around him wasn't even real. That he had died the day
before Harry disappeared and this was his hell. And you know how he knew? It
was so artfully done...so perfect that it just couldn't be reality. Everything
wasn't taken-no no no not everything because that would be suspicious but his
first born son, his beautiful boy was gone and yet things had returned to
normal. Like everything was okay. How could it be? When his moon was gone?
Jason had always been like the sun, constantly bright and alive, never one to
be ignored. Beautiful and perfect, the light of his life. But Harry...he was
like a breath of fresh air. Those lonely nights where you'd sit and look up at
the stars and even though you didn't feel the calming heat on your face that
the sun gifted you, somehow you knew everything was going to be alright. He
remembered sitting at night with him, reading him stories and telling silly
tales and Harry would just grin and stare, perfectly quiet and still, so unlike
Jason. So much like the moon. He didn't take any effort at all to take care of.
Always polite, always kind.
Just there.
He still had an inner glow, just like the sun. But he was peaceful. And how on
Earth could his life still be peaceful without him?
"What is it love? Is something the matter?"
James twisted so they were facing each other, hazel eye to brilliant
green. Green that I should see in another's face.
"No, nothing at all." He leaned in for a kiss, inwardly wondering if this
wasn't the devil himself, laughing inwardly at his foolishness. He died a
little inside and he wondered how much he actually had left until it was over.
But then his thoughts were put on hold and yet again he fell into the
caricature of what his life should be. And he smiled. And he could feel his
insides withering away.
"Prongs, you menace! Seduce your wife later, we have an Order meeting to get
to!"
Both James and Lily rolled their eyes always playing along, never showing how
dead they truly were and hid their doubts and self-loathing deep within. Like
they knew they had to, lest they fall apart completely.
===============================================================================
"What's going on Headmaster? I didn't think You-Know-Who had been active
lately."
Everyone took their seats at the circular table, one chair obviously empty,
marking the place of a dear friend who had passed.
"We've come across some new information. It seems to be that our young
Montresor rejected Tom's invitation. Severus, tell everyone what happened
exactly."
Everyone looked toward the man himself and took in his...less than perfect
appearance. With his pale skin whiter and more sickly looking than ever and
slight tremors wracking through his entire body, it was obvious that Snape had
undergone at least a few minutes of the Cruciatus curse. There was a light
sheen of sweat over his brow and his black eyes lacked their usual fire.
"After Montresor arrived at 6:00 he talked with the Dark Lord for some time.
All of a sudden the Dark Lord's magic became extremely angry. There were sounds
of dueling and a man, I'm assuming Montresor, came running down the halls. He
was too quick to catch and he managed to get out of the Manor before the Dark
Lord could kill him. Afterwards, anyone that could have stopped Montresor was
put under the Cruciatus curse, then sent away. I don't know what the man did,
but whatever it was, I pray the Dark Lord never finds him. Death will be a gift
after he is through with him."
Everyone sat in silence for a moment. James and Sirius would never admit it,
but at that moment they realized what all Snape actually did for the Order.
Their sentimental thoughts were interrupted with Snape's eyes coming back to
life and him saying, "On his way out, I managed to put a tracking charm on him.
Since he has refused the Dark Lord and he'll be after him, I have no doubt
Montresor will choose the Light to join. Otherwise, the poor man won't
survive."
Everyone brightened at that news. If Montresor could escape You-Know-Who in his
own home then he would be an invaluable asset.
"Do you have any idea his age? Did you get a look at his face?" Dumbledore
asked in his normal grandfatherly fashion. Snape sneered at his attitude but
answered without complaint.
"No. But I would say his early thirties. Enough time to become skilled at what
he does, but still youthful enough to move around easily."
"Alright Severus. Tomorrow evening we should confront this Montresor. I have no
doubt that Voldemort is already looking for him. Hopefully we can save him
before it's too late."
===============================================================================
Harry was just relaxing at home when he sensed other magical auras in the
vicinity. Before he could even put up extra wards, at least five wizards forced
themselves into his apartment.
Harry leaped up, not looking flustered in the slightest. While pulling the gun
out of his back pocket Harry chastised, "You know, boys and girls, it's not
nice to enter a house without knocking first. Do I need to teach you all a
lesson?" Harry cocked his head to the right like a bird and grinned evilly. The
leader, or so it seemed, growled.
"No one defies our Lord so openly. He deserves your utmost respect you
dirty Mudblood."
Harry stared at him for a moment, Avada Kedavra green eyes betraying nothing.
Then his bow shaped lips slowly stretched into a grin; an innocent looking
grin, until you saw his eyes. They were like an icy tundra.
"I assure you, boy, that my blood is nothing you need concern yourself with.
Now, what is it that you wanted exactly?" He took one step forward and it all
went to hell.
Again.
===============================================================================
"So, tell me again why we need to sneak up on this guy? I thought we were gonna
talk to the bloke, not murder him." Sirius grumbled.
"Are you that much of a dolt Black? Constant vigilance I always say! How can we
know how he'll react?" Mad-eye glared at them all and wagged his finger in a
very condescending fashion. "How you all became Aurors I'll never know…"
"But he denied You-Know-Who! Why wouldn't he be cool with us?"
"The world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters you twit. He could
just not want to live under the Dark Lord's thumb. It means nothing on whether
his loyalties lie with the dark or the light." Snape sneered.
"Right you are my boy. However, I have a feeling our young Montresor will join
the right side." Dumbledore appeared out of no where.
"We are here." Snape mumbled while checking the time. It was 8:43 P.M. The man
should still be awake, Snape thought.
Then, out of the blue, one of the apartments on the top floor blew up and a man
came falling out of a window with 5 men running after him. He jumped onto
another roof, but was caught in the back with a red-looking curse. Dumbledore
and the rest of the Order quickly apparated up to the roof and fought off the
remaining Death Eaters.
It wasn't too hard; they were all lower level ones. After Tonks apparated them
to the Ministry, everyone went to what they hoped to be a still-breathing
Montresor.
The man seemed to be curled up in on himself, but Dumbledore quickly turned him
over. The sight that they were met with astonished them all.
Black-as-night curls matted with dirt and pale unblemished skin appeared sickly
in the darkness. His muscles could be seen clenched under tight black clothing.
A few drops of blood fell from the male's pink lips. He was a rather pathetic
sight, but that wasn't what worried all the Order members.
No, what truly troubled them was the fact that this boy could be no older than
15. This was no man, but a child. Dumbledore recovered first and took the poor
boy in his arms. He apparated to headquarters along with everyone else,
conflicted thoughts buzzing through their minds.
 
***** Intentions *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey! Sorry about not updating yesterday. I'm gonna slow them down a
     bit so when I finish chapter 12 and post it on FF, you guys will not
     have had to wait a while. :D So one every couple days. Besides, this
     one has a bit of a cliffie so I wanna make you despair. :D Anyway,
     enjoy!
     No need for warnings....unfortunately. >:D
 "I try to keep in mind," I recite dryly as I run the front sight of my pistol
  over his face, "that my life is only as significant as I am to the lives of
 others." He's sobbing and won't look up from the floor so I lean close to his
    ear and ask softly, "Would you say that I'm significant to your life?"
                       ― Dennis Sharpe, Blood & Spirits
===============================================================================
Harry woke up and was alert immediately. He forced open sleepy lids, pulled at
aching muscles, and took in his surroundings with sharp eyes. The first thing
he noticed was that he was in some sort of infirmary.
Of course. Harry thought while getting up. Once the Order members defeated
those Death Eaters they took me back to their headquarters. They must have
treated me here.
Harry flexed his arms and made his way to what looked to be a bathroom. He
quickly washed, for Harry detested the grimy feeling that too many
scourgifys left on a person, and wandlessly accioed all of his clothing. Harry
couldn't help but lightly laugh when they came to him unhindered.
I can't believe no one warded my bag. At least I can safely assume I'm not
considered an enemy and/or prisoner. Or they don't think I'm capable of
wandless magic. Not that it matters either way of course.
He pulled out a loose pair of jeans and a royal purple long-sleeved shirt. He
always kept a fresh set of clothes with him just in case he was ever in this
type of situation, which had just happened to pay off. He slipped on his black
dragon-hide boots which the others had been kind enough to leave with him and
went to see which weapons they took. Like he expected, all his guns and knives
were gone.
At least they aren't that stupid. For a moment I thought both sides may have
been playing a joke on me, or some sort of test. My wand is also missing. No
matter, once I show I'm not a threat they'll return it to me.
Harry grinned to himself and was sad to see there weren't any wards on the
door. He would've loved to try his hand at taking down Light wards wandlessly.
Pity. I do hope the rest of my time here isn't as dreadfully predictable. He
chucked to himself while stroking the his black bracelet with a snake-shaped
symbol in the center that he now wore on his right wrist and calmly left the
room.
===============================================================================
"When should we expect him up Albus?" McGonagall asked politely.
"In the next few hours or so I expect. Not that I'm an expert in such matters.
What say you Severus?"
Snape had been digging at his yellowed finger nails with the usual grimace on
his face when he heard his name called. He slowly lifted his greasy black-
haired head and said quietly, "An hour if not less actually. His magic did most
of the work for me when I began to heal him. I suspect if we left him on the
roof he would have healed on his own in a matter of days."
"He's truly that powerful then?"
"Definitely." At that moment the Marauders and Lily entered the room.
"So, how's the kid?" Sirius asked.
"Quite well actually Mr. Black. We should get answers to our many questions in
just under an hour." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"What I'm wondering is how a boy our own son's age could be out assassinating
people! You must have made some mistake Headmaster. There's absolutely no way!"
Lily cried.
"Yea, there's no way a 15 year old could be so infamous. Do you think that
maybe it was the kid's dad that's named Montresor?"
"Don't worry yourselves. Soon, all of our questions shall be answered."
"Besides," Snape drawled. "do you truly think that the Dark Lord would send his
men out to the wrong person? No, that boy as you all call him, is dangerous. A
child with the right skills and motivation can be just as dangerous as any
adult.
"Yes, we must all be on our toes." Dumbledore nodded solemnly. Lily and James
left the room soon after, wanting to spend some more time with their son. The
rest sat there quietly for a moment when they heard someone coming out of the
fireplace.
"Wotcher guys! Sorry for the hold-up. Paper work and all." Tonks yelled while
tripping over a chair leg. "All of the guys now have their own personalized
cell in Azkaban."
"Excellent Nymphadora. Now, about what we are going to do-" Everyone abruptly
stopped and turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat.
"Excuse me," A young, soft voice whispered. "I'm sorry for intruding, but I
would very much like to know where exactly I am, and who you all are, if you
don't mind."
The figure in the doorway was leaning slightly and had his head tipped and
cocked slightly in a curious and very young-looking fashion. His legs were
crossed at the ankle and small pale hands were wrapped together behind his
back. Thinly arched eyebrows formed a small frown in the center of his forehead
and his lips were pursed. He could be the poster-boy for innocent curiosity.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm merely confused, that's all."
Those small lips curled into a bashful smile and bright white teeth shone.
Albus, unsurprisingly, recovered first.
"Of course my boy! No wonder you're confused. Waking up in an unknown area and
all. Please, come and sit down." The seemingly short body straightened itself
and strode over to the table carefully. He took a seat and leaned forward, his
chin resting in the heels of long-fingered hands.
"Firstly, I would like to thank you all for your assistance. Not only did you
take care of those who attacked me, but you sheltered and healed me. Not many
would have taken the time to do this." He tipped his head forward and a slight
blush lit his shallow cheeks.
"There is nothing to thank. However, if you are willing, we would like to ask
you some questions. Would that be alright?" The youthful boy's eyes brightened
at the thought of repaying the people who helped him so much and nodded his
head slightly, one stray curl falling over his right eye.
"Of course sir. I would love to answer any and all questions you have."
===============================================================================
Jesus fucking Christ this is just too good.
Harry had always been a great actor. What with having no emotions, it was easy
to lie. It was actually easier to lie than to tell the truth. But, at this
moment, it was almost too hard not to laugh.
These Light players actually thought he could be a good little assassin and
work for them! It was just…precious.
His inner cackling was interrupted when the powerful old man asked, "Well, our
first question is, did you truly kill all those people, my boy? If so, why on
earth did you do it?"
Of course he had planned for these type of questions, what with his background,
but even now he rethought on what he wanted to do. He'd have to play this game
until the end of the war, and pretending to be a perfect little boy got
tiring very quickly.
However, with one glance at the twinkle in the eldest wizard's eye and the
glares from all the others around him, he knew exactly what mask he should
wear.
He made himself grimace slightly and hardened his eyes and mouth a bit, making
it look as if the question bothered him.
"I-yes. I did do those things. I did what I had to do to survive sir. I regret
some of the people I...killed. But some of them were just as terrible as the
current Dark Lord. Those, I do not, and will never regret." He leaned back and
looked to see what his words caused.
While the others thought over his words, he slid his eyes over the many faces
in the room.
Albus Dumbledore, of course, a very powerful wizard. I'll have to watch myself
with that one. I'm powerful, but I'm not on his level yet. That type of power
comes with time.
There's Minerva McGonagall. Again, a powerful witch, but not as powerful as
either Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. I could defeat her, she is no threat.
Then there were a few Aurors that he didn't even take the time to consider.
Harry was undoubtedly more powerful than all of them combined. There was
Severus Snape that he needed to deal with though. Potion's Master and double-
agent extraordinaire.
Best to nip that in the butt as soon as possible.
Their questions continued from there, but the last few were what caught Harry's
attention.
"What exactly happened between you and Voldemort, my boy?" Hmmm. Easy that one.
"I said no. I will not work with someone so bent on destroying an entire race.
Even though I don't care for them too much, they're still people. We can't
judge an entire group just because a few of them are bad. That's like judging
the whole wizarding world on how the Dark Lord acts." Dumbledore's eyes just
twinkled and nodded in agreement.
Of course you agree, you probably feel the exact same way as I do. Except on a
few of my more...ruthless opinions anyway. It's the only logical way to think
about it.
Then, the famous Auror Black asked suspiciously, "Now, why on earth would you
call him the Dark Lord? Only his Death Eaters ever call him that."
Harry just wanted to laugh, but that would be a bit too much like his actual
character. So instead, he put on a frustrated mask.
"First of all, I'm never going to call him You-Know-Who or any of that rubbish.
That's for the fearful. I'm also not going to call him Voldemort. Not because
I'm afraid. Merely for respect."
Black pshed and leaned back in his seat. "Sounds to me like you're a Death
Eater all right."
Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction in annoyance, and that he didn't need to fake.
"I don't need to be a Death Eater to respect the Dark Lord. He's an incredibly
powerful man. He did come back from the dead after all. I'm not on his power
level, and neither are you by the way, therefore, I do not have the right to
call him by his own given name. The only person in this room with that right is
you, sir." Harry nodded towards Albus old man's eyes just twinkled even more.
Harry wasn't stupid. He truly did believe all those things. Both men were
extremely powerful and he didn't pretend to be on their level. If he had been,
he wouldn't have picked a side in the first place. No, both men were to be
respected and wary of. Even though he didn't quite see eye to eye with
Dumbledore, he was high on Harry's list of people to kill, which was a
compliment in Harry's opinion. If he was going to get anything out of this war
Dumbledore would have to die. It wasn't anything personal; he just wanted
power.
"Is that why you haven't called me by my name Montresor?"
"Yes sir, I don't have the right to call you by your given name." By that point
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling much more than normal.
He must use magic to get that effect. There's no way in hell that's
natural. Black now looked appeased.
I knew he wasn't completely stupid, but his blatant hate is going to get him
killed.
Harry got up to leave, but Dumbledore just shook his old, whitened head.
"I have one more question my boy." Harry nodded his acknowledgment. Already
guessing what exactly he wanted to know. "What is your real name?"
***** Choosing Sides *****
"The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral
                      crisis, maintain their neutrality."
                               ― John F. Kennedy
===============================================================================
A name.
It's what you are really. When you think of a person as a whole, you don't just
think of their deeds, or their personality traits. You don't even think of
their associates. You think "so and so is this" or "so and so did this".
That 'so and so' is the name.
There is power with a name. Your name is who you are. That's why every mask
needs a different one.
"Julian. Julian LaFaye." His rich voice sounded through the whole room and
everyone watched as he gave a graceful bow, his eyes bright and an honest smile
on his face.
The picture of innocence. Just what he needed to be.
Yes, this was one of his most useful facades. No one expected that angelic face
to smile with just the hint of white teeth while ripping your heart out and
biting into it like an apple. All the while smiling.
He straightened out again and whispered as if it were some sort of special
secret, "I give you my true name in the strictest confidence, not many know of
it."Only because I kill them before they have a chance to tell.
"I trust none of you will scream it out in the streets of London then, yes?" A
few nods were given and Julian gave another blinding smile.
Not a hint of the inner feelings of this monster, for there was no other word
for him, were shown in those seemingly clear, honest green eyes. For within,
there was nothing. Nothing but darkness and love for death. But maybe, just
maybe, it would all change.
For the better or worse, that remains unclear.
===============================================================================
Snape couldn't believe the young boy they had spoken too.
He reminded Snape of someone. He just didn't know who. For a minute he had
thought it was the Dark Lord. But then he realized that if anything, this boy
was even more dangerous than Voldemort.
The boy was intelligent and observant, but also acted like a 16 year old boy.
However, at the same time he was very mature and you couldn't help but
sympathize with his situation, even though Snape had seen what types of murders
the boy committed. There was no remorse in those killings. Either they were
enjoyed, or there wasn't any feeling given during.
No, this boy was crafty. Snape couldn't read him at all and that, dare he say
it, scared him. His "Lord" had always been straightforward about what he did.
That's what made him so formidable. You went to him knowing exactly what he
would do to you, but you still did because you craved the power, confidence,
and intelligence he possessed. Julian was a mixture of the old coot and
Voldemort in a way. He was dark, dangerous, and charming like the Dark Lord,
yet was manipulative and put on an innocent and oblivious mask like Dumbledore.
It was an awful combination, for anyone against him at least, but the worst
thing was that he didn't even know if his speculations were correct or not. It
was infuriating.
This boy though... he was one that Snape didn't understand. Why would someone
with such obviously dark magic want to join Dumbledore? It just didn't make
sense. His musings were interrupted by said boy coming up behind him and
tapping him on the arm lightly. Everything but his extremely familiar green
eyes disappearing into the shadows.
"Excuse me, Mr. Snape. I don't wish to disturb you, but I have a few questions
I need to ask you. Would you mind following me to a more private area?" Even
though the words themselves sounded suspicious, the boy's face just looked so
innocent…. Snape couldn't believe his own thoughts.
This boy was not some sort of devil incarnate hidden behind a well-crafted
mask! No one, let alone a teenager, was that collected! No, this boy was just
like any other of the many snot-nosed dunderheads at Hogwarts, just a bit more
mature and respectful.
Snape nodded in agreement and followed the boy, having to walk a bit faster to
catch up with his long strides. Once they were in one of the many empty rooms
of headquarters, Julian, unknowingly to Snape, locked the door and set up many
wards and charms. One of those being that any word spoken within the room while
they were both inside could not be repeated or legitimized out of Snape's head.
It was a very useful piece of parselmagic.
Julian decided to shred his mask down to the one closest to his real face. He
didn't like to pretend so much, but he also didn't enjoy showing himself. This
mask was the closest one to his actual personality, not that he really had one,
so it didn't stress him out. Julian turned around and transfigured a piece of
paper and some book on Potions into two comfortable armchairs. He motioned his
arm for Snape to sit down and he did while shoving his amazement at the boy's
transfiguration skills behind thick Occlumency walls.
"Sir, I truly don't wish to 'beat around the bush' as the muggles say, and I
just don't have the time and patience to manipulate the answers out of you
about this. I'd rather not pull it out of that carefully blocked head of yours
either, for I would surely destroy your mind in the process, but I will if I
must. Do your loyalties lie with the Dark Lord or the Light Lord?"
Snape just stared for a moment. Bright, innocent eyes had abruptly turned hard
and cold. He wasn't sure which were more attractive. Everything about the face
was purely blank. Not one emotion shone through. It was...unnerving to say the
least. The boy was leaning forward on his knees and a lock of hair fell in
front of his eyes, like it did earlier, but this time it did not look endearing
at all.
Snape put up his usual sneer, but this time it wasn't out of actual annoyance.
It was out of fear.
"Why should I tell you anything? It's none of your business which side I am
on, little boy." Julian acted as if he had just been given his answer and he
was pleased. Snape likened his face to a cat finally getting the cream. He
leaned back into his seat, arms crossed behind his head, those eyes filled with
amusement and the small pink lips curled into a smirk.
"Just as I had suspected. You are walking a fine line in between- intelligent
move. One I would have taken myself if I hadn't been such a determining player
in this war. At the moment, as I'm sure you can tell, both sides are at a
relatively equal point. However, the second the Dark Lord takes over the
Ministry Dumbledore will be at a huge disadvantage, as I'm sure you know.
Malfoy can easily manipulate Fudge, he is an idiot after all, however, his term
is coming to an end soon, and Fudge isn't in many people's good graces right
now. I also highly doubt he's about to do anything worthwhile to get back into
them, even if he had the mental capacity to do anything about it. It all
depends on who is elected, or on how many believe the Dark Lord is back. These
are determining points in the war, do you agree?"
Snape nodded his head, a bit wowed at this boy's knowledge on politics when
most his age were busy with Quidditch and girls. He didn't show any of it
though; he had dealt with much more surprising situations.
"Well, with my help, not only can I assassinate Rufus if he gets too many
votes, I can also plant evidence. If Rufus were to suddenly kill a wizard or
two because they had slept with his wife; for you know how easy it is to incite
a man in love's paranoia and wrath, but not give this 'information' to the
public, I can't imagine many wanting him as their leader. Would you?"
Julian head was now cocked to the side and he was leaning forward in his seat
again. His calm voice, now a deeper, more rich sound than the one from before,
which was still high as if puberty had not yet set in, betrayed no doubts.
"No, I think not."
"Of course you don't. You're an intelligent man. You know your way around a
cauldron better than anyone I've ever met. I read your paper, Wolfsbane, Is
There a Better Cure? and I have to say it was brilliant. I like to think I'm
pretty good with potions, but you're on a whole different level sir. Why you
work as a professor I'll never know. Probably some deal with Dumbledore on how
he kept you out of Azkaban for all that Death Eater nonsense... However, that
isn't the point of this conversation. I'm giving you a chance sir. A chance to
not be killed. A chance to be where you belong. I respect you for your
abilities, your Occlumency skills, and your cunning mind and ruthlessness when
it comes to getting what you want. Your death would be an utter waste and even
though I take it for a living, I don't enjoy causing unnecessary bloodshed. You
are a powerful ally, and that is why I've told you all this. I'm not saying for
you to abandon your post. You're doing a fantastic job spying. However, I am
saying to quit spying for yourself. Spy for the right side. Spy for my side."
Snape was entranced. He wasn't stupid- he knew most of LaFaye's speech was
purely manipulative. However, he could also tell it was all true, as all the
best manipulations were. He leaned forward; a position similar to LaFaye's, and
licked his lips, black eyes bright for the first time in over a decade.
"And which side would that be Julian?" His smirk transformed into a dark grin
and those bright green eyes darkened with malice. All of a sudden the angelic
appearance from before completely disappeared; not that there had been much
left of it. What was left in it's place was what Snape could only think of as
the Devil himself. And I thought I was being absurd earlier.
"I think we both know which side that is, Mr. Snape. I'll see you at dinner."
And the boy left, leaving Snape with a happy grin of his own.
 
***** Betrayal, the Sweetest Sin *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey all! I would just like to mention that for now on I will refer to
     Harry as Julian. I know that some may not like that (I myself don't
     enjoy it when Harry's name is completely changed for no reason
     *cough* femHarry *cough*) but know that this isn't for forever.
     Eventually his secret will be found out. Actually, in the future
     Harry will wear different "masks" and will therefore have different
     names. In a situation, he will be referred to by whatever name the
     mask he currently wears has. Sorry for any confusion.
     BTW: MAJOR WARNINGS AT THE BOTTOM AND NOTES. If you're squeamish,
     please read them. But I have warning tags for a reason. I would like
     you to read the notes though. I wrote some info down there that you
     may want to know.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                           I am thy father's spirit,
                 Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
                  And for the day confined to fast in fires,
                Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
                          Are burnt and purged away.
                                    (1.5.5)
===============================================================================
With a pair of headphones on and Danse Macabre pounding into his ears while he
read a surprisingly interesting muggle book about the adventures of Dexter
Morgan, Julian could honestly say he was completely content. That was,
until someone decided to knock on his door, interrupting his favorite part of
the song. A lesser man would have sighed or rolled his eyes. Instead, Julian
just calmly pressed the pause button and memorized the page and line he was on
in the book, even though he was inwardly seething. No one interrupted his music
time.
Unlike most, Julian had his day structured. Every morning he woke up at
precisely 6:30 AM and would go take a 30 minute jog or just exercise. Then, he
would take a 15 minute shower and read for about an hour. After that, he would
head to his kitchen and make himself breakfast. Afterwards he would begin his
studies, which took around 3 to 4 hours. On weekends it only took 1 or 2. The
rest of his day was spent completing contracts or whatever he wanted. It just
depended upon the day of the week and what he felt like doing.
Anyways, the point is, is that Julian wasn't used to having his daily routine
interrupted. And he couldn't say he enjoyed the change.
So far he had only stayed one night at Grimmauld place, but he could already
tell his long fuse would be at least half way burnt by the end of it. Good
thing Julian was extremely patient and had a tight rein on his almost non-
existent emotions. He pulled open the door with ease and sent a "sleepy" smile
at whoever was at the door. He rubbed one lightly tightened fist against his
left eye and scratched his stomach. Every movement was planned to endear and
manipulate whoever had sent for him, for why else would his whole demeanor seem
so open and vulnerable?
"Mornin'. Sorry I didn't answer sooner. M' just so sleepy still. Do I need to
go down yet?" Julian moved his hand to cover his mouth in a fake yawn and
blinked sluggishly at his guest; knowing that they would find him to be next to
irresistible.
Julian knew this because he had read the woman the second he opened the door.
She was obviously a mother to many children, judging by the way her eyes shined
at his antics and her slightly chubby body, which was most likely a result of
one too many pregnancies, which would make her easily swayed by a calm and
polite child because her own kids, probably boys, didn't take the time to be
respectful to their own parent.
Since they were all most likely teens, judging by her wide array of premature
wrinkles, or they had already left the house, made it likely she would try to
"adopt him" because of her need to have the children who had left her back, and
any mother with that many children had to have an almost obsessive need to save
any child without parent's of their own. With a glance he noticed all of these
things and more.
"Oh! I'm sorry to have woken you. I did come here to take you downstairs since
Albus did say you should come down and meet everyone…" Julian blinked owlishly
at that and drew his eyebrows together slowly, "but I'm sure we could wait a
little while longer! I'm Molly Weasley by the way."
Julian gave the ginger woman his most boyish grin and lent down to kiss her
hand. By the end of it she was more red than her hair.
"The pleasure is all mine Mrs. Weasley. I'm Julian LaFaye. And now that I'm up,
I'm sure I'll be able to make it down soon...maybe you could give me another
half hour? I'm sorry, it's just last night...well, it was a bit stressful. What
with the questions and the Death Eaters-"
The Weasley woman's, who he now knew as one of the last of the Prewett family,
eyes grew wide in motherly-anger, a behavior he had known she would react with.
He could practically taste her motherly instincts grabbing onto him and making
him one of her own.
One more Light minion in my pocket. Marvelous.
"Say no more! I don't know what he was thinking anyways. Asking me to wake you
up at 7:30 in the morning! You take as much time as you need sweetheart.
Breakfast will be waiting for you."
Harry brightened up his smile a few notches, but made sure to keep his eyes
unfocused and body sagged. No use in making her think he was ready before he
actually was.
"Thank you so much ma'am. See you in a bit."
Mrs. Weasley just smiled in return, completely forgetting that who she was
talking to killed people for a living and was wanted by the Darkest wizard to
ever live as an ally. Meaning that he was probably Slytherin to the core and
manipulating her in every sense of the word.
However, all she could see was his sleep-tousled curls and unfocused emeralds,
making her putty in his hand. With one last pat on the arm she took her leave,
and Julian abruptly straightened out and pushed his ink-black hair out of his
face. He smirked evilly, but didn't get any satisfaction from his successful
manipulation. This was just a job after all. However, he couldn't help thinking
to himself with just a hint of smugness,
Sometimes it's just good to be me.
===============================================================================
"So, who's staying in the guestroom Mum? I didn't think anyone else was staying
here besides everyone in the Order." Lily leaned over and gently ran her hands
through her son's auburn locks.
Feels just like his father's. She thought with a smile.
"It's just someone who will hopefully help in defeating You-Know-Who. I haven't
met him yet, but we should all see him at breakfast. I don't think he's much
older than you so maybe you can help make him feel welcome?"
She said that with a raised eyebrow; making it obvious it wasn't just a
suggestion. Jason pshed and pushed his mother's hand away. He
wasn't five anymore; he didn't want his mother playing with his hair of all
things.
"My age huh? I doubt he'll be much help then. But...as long as he isn't
some Slytherin, I'm sure me, Ron, and Hermione won't mind befriending him."
Lily silently berated her son's prejudice, but she couldn't blame him too much.
The Slytherins constantly taunted her boy and most of the Death Eaters came
from that house as well. However, her best friend Severus was a Slytherin and
had seen the light in the end, so why couldn't any of the others?
She knew it would do no good to say anything. Hopefully her dear boy would lose
his prejudice after he and his peers had all grown up though. As they entered
the kitchen Lily was met with the sight of all of her greatest friends and
loved ones sitting together and talking amiably. She couldn't help the slight
watering of her eyes, for who knew how long this would last?
Yes, You-Know-Who had been silent lately, besides contacting the boy known as
Julian LaFaye, but that didn't mean it would last forever. She wasn't naive
enough to think so. Lily walked over and sat between her husband and Remus, who
was the man she got along with the best besides James, and started spreading
some jam onto a piece of toast. At the table was Sirius, James, Remus, Ron,
Molly, her son, and Albus Dumbledore himself. Speaking of Albus…
"Professor, not to be rude or anything, but why are you here? Don't you have
more important business to attend to?" Her long-time idol smiled jovially and
light blue eyes twinkled. His whole being just screamed, You can trust me. And
trust him she did.
"Well, you do know who is staying here correct?" At her nod he continued.
"Well, since no one here has actually met him I thought it'd be a good idea for
him to have at least one familiar face. Besides, Molly's cooking is by far the
best thing I've ever tasted. How on earth could I miss that?" Said woman's
cheek turned a faint pink and she laid a few more pancakes on the table.
"Thank you headmaster. Julian should be down in just a bit by the way. However,
I'm not about to rush the poor boy. You should have seen how tired he looked!
I'm afraid he might have just went on back to sleep, not that I blame him. He's
been through an ordeal that one."
Molly nodded to herself and wiped her hands on her apron. Her son, Ron, looked
flabbergasted though.
"You never let me go back to bed though! He can't have been that tired. And I'm
your son! Shouldn't I be treated better than some ruddy Death Eater?!" Molly
glared and turned around from the bacon she had been fixing. Before she could
respond though a light knock was heard by everyone in the room.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. How do I always manage to come at the wrong
time?" The voice whispered with a laugh. "Good morning Lord Dumbledore, Mrs.
Weasley."
Everyone turned to the soft-sounding voice that came from the doorway to the
kitchen, the adults interested in the "powerful assassin" and the children in
the new addition to their ranks. The boy stood straight and tall, managing to
look innocent, but formidable; confident, yet modest. It was an outrageous
combination, but this boy managed to pull it off.
Messy ebony locks curled around his delicate jaw-line and straight bangs were
pushed absentmindedly to the side. His lips were pulled into a nervous half-
smile and green eyes suddenly sharpened, for what reason everyone in the room
didn't know.
All they knew was that it sent a shiver down their spine and that it left as
quick as it came. The only one who gave it a second thought was the one and
only Albus Dumbledore. Before all their staring could be considered creepy by
social norms Molly Weasley exclaimed,
"Oh Julian! How wonderful to see you. I didn't think you'd be up for another
hour at least." His smile brightened by a few notches and he glided over to sit
beside Dumbledore.
"Well, knowing that your, most likely, wonderful cooking was waiting for me and
how you were so nice about waking me, made me not want to keep you waiting. I
knew that if you came it must be something important." Mrs. Weasley blushed
again and put a napkin in Julian's lap.
"Oh, you and your compliments! I swear, you must have everyone in the palm of
your hand back home. Now tuck in! Just like Ron you are much too skinny. I
expect you to eat at least two helpings!" Julian laughed and took her fussing
with neither an irritable groan nor a red face, like most teenagers would.
"Thank you very much Mrs. Weasley. I can't express how much your's, and
everyone else's, hospitality means to me. I realize that I must be quite a
burden so I was planning on heading out after breakfast. I wouldn't want to
overstay my welcome and all." Julian bit his lip lightly and took a quick bite
out of his pancakes and scanned the room with bright, intelligent eyes. Not
that anyone noticed.
"Oh deary! You aren't a burden at all. Besides, you're helping the Order so
you're as welcome as anyone." Julian glanced back over at the mother Weasley
and sent another bashful smile her way.
However, inside he just kept screaming and thinking about how wonderful it
would be to cut off her head and see how bland and dull her "red" hair would
look compared to the magnificent crimson that would spurt from her throat. Yes,
that picture would be wonderful to make into a reality. Nothing showed in his
eyes though, like it would with most. Just the slightest dilating of his pupils
could be seen if you were close enough.
"Thanks Mrs. Weasley. I truly do appreciate it. However, I can't help but think
this isn't your home, what with the feel of old dark magic and dead house elf
heads lining the hallway. As it is, I'm staying within someone else's home, so
I would like to share my appreciation with them."
Molly blushed again, but this time out of embarrassment and nodded towards the
man wolfing down a stack of blueberry pancakes. He looked up slowly, feeling
the weight of everyone's gaze at the table and mumbled,
"Yes, I'm the proud owner of Grimmauld place. And you're not a burden at all.
Merlin knows how many people are already staying here, and they don't even show
me their gratitude!" Black pointedly looked towards his best mate and James
shoved him lightly.
"Shut it Sirius. Like you even notice us staying here. Besides, with Molly and
Lily here you get to experience a clean house and great cooking for once in
your miserable life." Sirius appeared to contemplate his words for a moment and
nodded slightly.
"True, very true. Doesn't mean you shouldn't say 'Thank you, my best mate who
just happens to be an unnaturally and ruggedly handsome man. By the way, you're
the best.' Every morning." James laughed loudly and finished off a strip of
bacon.
"Sure, like you need someone to increase the size of your ego. I'm afraid if I
ever said that seriously you wouldn't be able to fit through the door." Black
pouted, but there was still amusement shining in his dark blue eyes. Julian
smiled slightly and inclined his head towards Sirius.
"Be that as it may, I still appreciate your hospitality. Also, I'm sure I owe
my life to you and your friend. You both have the look of aurors to you." They
both jolted, surprised that the boy could have guessed.
"How did you know? I'm sure Sirius and I aren't quite that famous quite yet."
Julian just smiled mysteriously and crossed his arms.
"Yes, but you'd be surprised by what a face shows when you truly look. Now, I
know who the great Lord Dumbledore is and of course I recognize the beautiful
Mrs. Weasley, but I can't say I know any of you." James shook his head and
smiled bashfully.
"Of course, sorry. I'm James Potter, this is my friend Sirius Black, and beside
me is my lovely wife Lily. Across from me is Remus Lupin, he teaches at
Hogwarts, and over there is Molly's son Ron and my son Jason, but I'm sure
you've heard of him. Molly has a few more children, who I'm sure you'll meet,
and my son has a friend named Hermione Granger who is also staying here."
Julian nodded and smiled at each person as they were introduced.
"It's a pleasure to meet all of you. Now, Lord Dum-"
"Why do you call Professor Dumbledore that? And how come you didn't recognize
me straight off?" Jason exclaimed. Julian's stare grew a bit colder and he
turned his head from where it had been on Dumbledore to the so-called Chosen
One.
"I would appreciate it if I wasn't interrupted Mr. Potter. I call your
Headmaster Lord Dumbledore because that's what he is. A Lord. He has been
chosen by Magic to fight for the Light. As such he deserves my utmost respect
and that includes calling him by his title. I'm surprised none of you do that.
They do it for the Dark Lord. Concerning your second question, why do you think
I didn't recognize you?"
Julian cocked his head, previous iciness gone. Like he would allow his emotions
to get away from him in the presence of a child. Please. Jason stumbled for a
bit, but eventually chewed out,
"Because you said you only knew Mrs. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore! I happen
to be the Chosen One ya know." He sneered slightly in the direction of the
pretty boy that practically oozed power. He didn't think he had ever done that
before, and it made him oddly jealous. Like he had anything to be jealous of
though! He was the Chosen One! No one could compete with that.
"Yes, I know. I just thought you would enjoy introducing yourself for once, or
I guess having your father do it. I thought it to be rude to ask for everyone's
name, but yours, even if I had never met you in person before. Does that
satisfy you Mr. Potter?" Julian leaned his head forward, his eyebrows slightly
turned to show a fraction of his annoyance.
Careful Julian. Make sure to show  just  the right amount of emotion. Never too
much and  definitely  never too little. 
Jason's mouth opened in an unattractive "o" and he smiled sheepishly.
"Of course, sorry. No one...no one's ever done that for me before." Julian
nodded his head and all traces of irritability were gone in a flash and he
grinned easily at the boy, knowing he was afraid he had actually made Julian
angry. Like the boy could even dream of provoking anything genuine besides a
bit of disgust and the overall disdain he held for almost everyone on the
planet.
"No worries. Now, as brilliant as your cooking is Mrs. Weasley, I must be on my
way. I have an appointment at 9:30 and I always try my best not to be late."
Weasley yet again managed to blush from a single compliment and patted Julian
on the arm in a way he was sure she thought would make his little orphan heart
glow with appreciation.
"Not to worry deary. Lunch will be waiting for you when you come back." Unlike
Molly and the kids, the two aurors and Dumbledore were curious as to what the
boy was up to.
"What appointment would that be Mr. LaFaye?" Dumbledore asked. Julian turned
and used his wand to summon his bag and mentally prepared to contact his
'Lord'.
"Just sorting out contracts and whatnot. Since I'll be spending most of my time
with all of you or with my studies, I probably won't have the time to deal with
the contracts I already have lined up. I just need to go and tell them I won't
be available for the next few months. Now, I should be back a little after 1:
00. At that point you can continue asking me questions to your heart's content.
Toodles."
With a wave and a cocky smirk sent at both ladies in the room Julian apparated
out of there to the Dark Lord's manor.
===============================================================================
"Ahhh." Julian audibly breathed out, gradually losing his LaFaye persona and
slipping on the mask closest to his real self. Here, he was a high-ranking
officer in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle, which basically meant he could do
whatever the hell he wanted and no one could say a word about it to him or
anyone else, on threat of torture and/or death of course.
He slipped a hand easily through tousled curls and gradually straighten them
out so he looked more professional and adorned a thick dark navy blue robe that
went to his knees. He buttoned up one of the middle clips and easily made his
way over to Lord Voldemort's throne room. While he personally thought it all a
bit of an unnecessary show of dominance, he also knew he wouldn't mind having a
group of the most powerful witches and wizards living kneeling at his feet
while taking all the curses he uttered at them with a choked out, "Thank you my
Lord." that he knew they actually meant.
Yes, that would definitely give him chills and a feeling of pleasure that might
just show in his groin if he was feeling sadistic enough that day. Not that he
could produce an erection unless he actually allowed his body to, but it
wouldn't hurt for him to have servants that feared him, yet respected and loved
him so much that they would deal with his crap.
Yes, Julian wouldn't mind that at all.
These were the thoughts that flew through his mind as he made his way to a, as
he didn't doubt, elegantly furnished room which just happened to have snakes
for handles on large doors made from a dark wood he couldn't quite place.
Either way, he knew it was old and had only just began filling with leftover
dark magic for no more than 6 years.
You see, in any kind of building that you perform magic often in, the walls and
doors often fill up with leftover magic. This magic helps make the building
stronger and the wards, if they have any, even more powerful. That's why
Hogwarts was known to be so impenetrable and how most students, even those who
had no affinity for feeling and/or seeing magic could practically taste the
magic in the place.
Hmm, I wonder why he didn't just use Malfoy Manor once he revived himself? And
if this isn't some ancient Pureblood Manor, what great significance could it
hold for a Dark Lord to even consider living in it?
Julian knew his questions wouldn't produce answers if he tried to ask the Dark
Lord, but the, if you could even call him as such, man never said he couldn't
"socialize" with his followers. Right before he entered LaFaye used his magic
to pinpoint how many magical auras were within the room and was nearly blown
away by the Dark Lord's.
Compared to him, all others were just tiny balls of black, sometimes grey,
light. A great comparison would be Pluto to the Sun. Not to mention how cold,
yet comforting, said magic was. He could see many people being driven to
groveling in the face of such power and could also see others being drawn to it
because of the way it induced submissiveness in the most powerful of the
Pureblood circle.
In him, all he felt was the magic playing with his own, as if challenging him
to a game of some sorts, and as his own magic eagerly responded positively he
could feel it enriching him and making him more powerful than before. Not that
any of his pleasurable feelings showed on his face. However, he did let himself
indulge in the wonderful feeling and could tell Lord Voldemort felt the same
way.
He cut it off soon after though; no use in becoming addicted to such
sensations, and opened the doors, already knowing who exactly would be present.
Or at least, he knew of the ones that would be important to take note of.
Only the Inner Circle and about 15 of the less important Death Eaters were
present, and Julian made sure to take note of their magical signatures and
faces so he could later put a name to them. He already knew of all of the Inner
Circle members though. A few of them hadn't been present at his invitation to
the Dark, but all of them were too famous to not have any clue who they were by
face alone.
Altogether, the Dark Lord had put together a group of thirteen of his finest
and Julian couldn't help but mentally applaud him for his daring. Besides
seven, of course, thirteen was the most magically powerful number, but it was
also the most unlucky. However, that was only true if you payed attention to
superstition, but Julian had always been one to be cautious beyond the norm.
Even if it was uncalled for.
He quickly took note of every person in his Inner Circle and wasn't
disappointed in the least. Present were Lucius Malfoy, the perfect politician
and probably the cleverest snake Julian had yet to meet. Bellatrix Lestrange
and the two Lestrange brothers, who were all three known for
their creativity in torture and the most appalling of dark magics, like blood
magic.
Beside them was Barty Crouch Jr., son of the infamously Light Barty Crouch.
Julian couldn't help but giggle internally at the irony of that. Next was, of
course, the Carrows, who were well-known for their intense hatred of all things
muggle, which was surprising because almost all Pureblood families had a
weirdly obsessive hatred of all things non-magic, and then there were the
Crabbe and Goyle men, who were basically just bodyguards for the Malfoy family.
They were half troll though, so they packed a great punch and had pretty much
secured the Dark every troll's loyalty in Britain. There was Theodore Nott
senior, who Julian was pretty sure went to school with the Dark Lord when he
was younger, and his son, but he wasn't quite in the Inner Circle yet.
How embarrassing. He snickered internally.
Then there was Lord Voldemort's only half-breed member, who was also probably
one of the most well known and feared; Fenrir Greyback. Just like Bellatrix and
Lucius, Julian had always held a strange sort of respect for him and a healthy
dose of wariness. While he knew he could easily best the werewolf, that man was
also the rapist and torturer/killer of hundreds upon hundreds of children his
age or younger.
However, unlike most, it made him want to battle and fight with the beast and
man so much it hurt. He could just imagine the screams they could produce
together. Especially with the help of the mighty Bellatrix Lestrange, who he
imagined he might actually come to like in the detached way only he could.
Lastly, there was the man he had extremely high hopes for, the one and only
Severus Snape. He seemed to be very similar to Lucius Malfoy, meaning he was
more of a thinker than a fighter, but he also had the added brilliance that was
his Potion Making.
He knew that Severus's help during the war would be invaluable and he could
also tell the man would be an interesting and stimulating conversationalist.
There really weren't enough genuinely intelligent people out there, so when you
found them it was disappointing to have to kill them. Especially over something
so silly as which side they were on. If they were objective and intelligent,
which was a pair even harder to find than just someone smart, then they should
be on Julian's side anyways.
He had been nothing if not objective in his choices. While it had been hard to
cut muggles a bit of slack after his childhood, he had. Not all muggles were
stupid and a waste of space. Just look at Albert Einstein or even Steven
Hawking. Both were immensely intelligent, undoubtedly more than himself, yet
they were muggles. However, that didn't mean the magical world didn't need to
create a stronger barrier between the muggle world and theirs.
Because of their intellect, the need to hide from them or take them by surprise
sooner rather than later was even more necessary. If wizards were planning on
taking over, they needed to do it now, before they discovered wizards and
attacked them and/or before they grew even more powerful.
It still surprised Julian so much that most wizards had no idea what kind of
abilities the muggles had. To be honest, the thought of an atomic bomb being
dropped on Wizarding Britain bothered him a bit. And it was
practically impossible to bother him. Anyway, something needed to be done, and
that was the exact reason why Julian had joined the Dark.
Yes, he would have probably regretted not being on the fighting side of the
wizards and witches who shot down their enemies with the most dark and painful
curses imaginable without one guilty thought passing through their minds if he
had joined the Light, but if he had wholeheartedly disagreed with all of Lord
Voldemort's ideals and plans for the future, he wouldn't have joined them.
However, he did agree with him, for the most part, so he was prepared to beat
the Light down until they were on the ground, crying and begging for mercy, and
then he would take his gun and shoot them mercilessly in the face, one by one.
Starting with their Savior.
As he opened the large doors with a small push of his magic, Julian entered the
room in the middle of the Dark Lord's speech. He honestly didn't know how he
managed to always interrupt people in the middle of speeches, or did he?
He slowly bowed, he would never grovel, and gave a cheeky grin to the version
of the Dark Lord he preferred. While on the battlefield, he would change his
visage to one of a snake, to promote the fear of him and the "dark arts".
However, at the moment, he was in the true form of a Dark Lord, which was
basically that of a sexy, yet undeniably powerful, man.
Dark Lords were known for their cunning, power, and manipulation skills. One
thing that goes hand in hand with manipulation is a pretty face, and did the
Dark Lord have a nice one. Sharp cheekbones that were almost as high as his
own, and a strong jaw gave him an elegant, yet manly look. A straight, sharp
nose was purely aristocratic and thin lips seemed to be pulled into a permanent
smirk. Dark brown hair was straight and neatly styled to that of a noble, as it
should be. But, just like Julian, the main attraction were his eyes.
Smoldering crimson orbs adorned by smoky lashes would make just about anyone
think twice about trying to best the owner of them. Not only was their color
disturbing, yet attractive, intelligence and power made them burn all the
brighter. Those were the eyes of a Dark Lord all right.
Most would call Voldemort sporting a scary and insane-looking visage idiotic
because "Wasn't the Dark side trying to promote how the Ministry was wrong
about banning Dark magic even though it wasn't that bad?" While this was a fair
point, it was irrelevant while they were in the middle of war.
Dark Magic wasn't bad. No magic was good or bad, it all just depended upon how
you used it. While, yes, most Dark spells seem to only have an "evil" use for
them, if you haven't given up on your morals yet, you just don't use those
nasty spells and rituals. Just the same as "good" people don't use Wingardium
Leviosa to slam people into walls and bash their brains out, no matter how
annoying they get.
However, the biggest difference between Light and Dark magic is not that one is
inherently evil, but that Dark magic is much harder to control and much easier
to become addicted to. To be a Dark wizard you have to have a lot of self
control, which most Light wizards just don't have. Also, most of the time, you
have to have a natural talent for it, which means that if you try to learn it
and you don't have that, there's a great chance you'll go insane and start
randomly killing people.
Every wizard can pretty much do Light and Neutral magic. At least before your
core changes that is. As most know, if your core is mostly Dark it is harder to
perform Light magic, but most of the time there's always an alternative Dark
spell to whatever the Light has so it doesn't really matter.
Anyways, the reason why it didn't matter at the time whether Lord Voldemort
helped prove to the public that Dark magic was actually not completely evil or
not, was because they had already went through that and it didn't work. During
the 50's and 60's Lord Voldemort and his followers, who had still been called
the Knights of Walpurgis, had done a lot to help people understand that no
magic should be restricted and that the prejudice against the Dark was
unwarranted.
While this was all true, not many had listened so the Dark Lord had had to move
onto other means. That means taking over Britain and forcing things he, and
many others, knew to be right as law. So, that meant it didn't really matter
what people thought because soon enough Lord Voldemort would control all of
them, and Julian would make sure to take a piece of that power for himself.
At Julian's cocky smirk, most of the Death Eaters blanched and others looked
gleeful at the chance to watch the arrogant and handsome youth scream out of
those devilish lips. However, nothing of the sort happened. The Dark Lord
slowly smirked back and sent a wave of dark magic to greet his favorite ally.
Julian accepted it with a gradually widening smirk and sent his own wave back
and the Dark Lord had to forcibly not shiver.
He still wasn't used to feeling such power from anyone, let alone one so young.
Dark, red eyes bore into green emeralds and he spoke, a dark baritone that
managed to echo throughout the whole room, regardless of how softly he said it.
"Hello Montresor. I trust you have successfully fooled Dumbledore and his
pets?"
As Julian walked over and materialized a dark green chair with the Dark Mark
etched into the wood, which he knew would impress Lord Voldemort, beside
Bellatrix, he laughed gleefully.
"Of course I did my Lord. How could you ever believe anything else?" As the boy
glided over and materialized the chair he couldn't help but marvel at the
display of power from someone so young.
It was one thing to conjure a chair, and yes that was conjure not transfigure,
with that much detail, but it was a whole other thing to do it wandlessly. All
of it was extremely curious and he intended to figure out the limits of this
youth's power quickly. He was reminding him of his...younger self far too much
to be comfortable with.
"As I expected. But what kinds of questions have you been asked and how did you
manage to fool Dumbledore? While I find it unsurprising the old fool's minions
haven't caught on to anything, I have no doubts he has asked you much. How did
you manage to divert his attention from your past occupation and allow you so
close to all his plans?"
Julian leaned back and spread out, not in the least leery of being in the
presence of probably the most powerful wizard in the world, if not one of the
most in all time. Avada Kedavra green eyes glowed with malicious delight and
Bellatrix wanted to cackle at how much of herself she saw in the boy.
"It was easy enough to fool them. I have decided to use my 'Julian LaFaye'
alias, just so you and your Inner Circle members know, and it's one that I've
mastered and used on many occasions. I merely explained that I was an orphan
and had had no other way of making a living, besides whoring myself I suppose.
Most of my contracts had been doing naughty things anyway, so of course they
had it coming. Besides my Lord, who could resist this face?" Julian's lips
stretched obscenely wide and a few chuckles escaped him.
"I honestly can't wait for when I betray them all." he sighed dreamily, dark
eyes staring at nothing. "The looks on their faces...well, the look of a
betrayed individual is one of the sweetest in existence, as I'm sure you know,
my Lord."
Julian allowed himself to grin manically at the Dark Lord, and let a tiny
sliver of his bloodlust shine through. Voldemort's own irises dilated a bit at
the picture his young assassin was making. He knew how a look of betrayal
looked all too well. Before either could sink into memories of their own
conquests, one of the Death Eaters rudely interrupted.
A large door sounded as it closed, unlike with Julian who had made his magic
silence the Boom! it created when shutting. In front of those doors now stood a
shivering and hunched over Peter Pettigrew. "M-my Lord. I've b-b-brought you
the p-papers you asked for earlier." He gulped.
Voldemort leaned forward, dark rubies still shining with bloodlust and sadistic
thoughts, but before he could say a word to his most cowardly and worthless
Death Eater, Montresor interrupted.
Before anyone could so much as gasp in surprise the lithe assassin had already
made his way over to the shivering form of Pettigrew and had taken to studying
his face with intense green eyes, swirling with something no one in the room
could distinguish. He bent over and lightly petted the rat's stubbly cheek and
cocked his head slightly.
"Peter Pettigrew…" Montresor whispered in disbelief. "You are the one who
betrayed the Potter's, yes?"
The man, if you could call him that, looked up into the boy who practically
shone in the room filled with darkness. He couldn't help but feel the need
to trust him.
"Yes. I'm he."
Suddenly the boy's whole demeanor changed. Replaced with calm disbelief now
showed the insanity from within and surprisingly, anger. But only the Dark Lord
managed to catch it before it disappeared and was swallowed up by a look he
often times saw on his Bella. His little assassin's next words weren't a
surprise in the least judging by the expression on his face.
"May I have him my Lord? I promise I'll give you a good show before I've
finished him." Those pleading green eyes and light pink pouting lips could not
be ignored by any man, not even the Dark Lord, and he lightly nodded his head
in consent, honestly curious as to what the boy would do. A good way to learn
his spell repertoire as well. 
He had heard stories of his ally's skills when it came to torture and murder,
but he had wanted to see a performance in real life as soon as he had met him.
Lord Voldemort also knew this would help any members of his Inner Circle who
hadn't been present during the boy's wonderful performance while at
the Ripper's Cauldron accept the boy as someone of higher ranking than them.
He had been worried Greyback might try to attack the boy and get killed or
Severus may have questioned the boy of his power and/or belittled him because
of his age and end up getting butchered as well. While he honestly didn't care
about any of his Death Eaters, they were both extremely useful along with
others and he had no use in them dead.
Montresor interrupted his thoughts as he dragged Wormtail along with a dark
rope of pure magic by the neck and released him in between his followers and
him. Voldemort watched in rapt interest as his boy took the rat by the neck,
with more wandless magic, and lifted him into the air. The assassin took his
time walking around his prey in a predatory fashion that he couldn't help but
relate to himself at that age.
Eyes burned with insane fire, but other than that no other expression was shone
on the boy's face. Many of the Death Eater's present, including the Inner
Circle, shivered openly at the look and feel of the boy. Whether in arousal or
fear, that remained to be seen. As Wormtail's face started to become blue
Montresor reluctantly released him, but soon after grabbed onto the rat's face
and cut into it, leaving four deep lines from cheek to neck.
With a wave of his hand Montresor summoned a bottle of water that was made up
of over three quaters of salt and "cleaned" the wound. As he did it Wormtail
released the most beautiful of screams. Something both Montresor and Voldemort
took note of and enjoyed gleefully.
After another few hours of slow torture, which had included skinning both of
the man's feet, ripping out each of his nails, cutting along his chest and
whatnot with his own hands, and of course washing each wound with a bit of salt
water since no one, especially Montresor, wanted his favorite uncle to get
infected, he finally stopped for a moment.
At some point the man had finally stopped screaming and had just taken to
whimpering pleas to just stop and to finish him off. Finally, the man just
couldn't take it anymore and begged,
"Please! Just kill me. I can't take it anymore." And he sobbed and sobbed, but
all Montresor did was laugh.
He, at first, just giggled a bit, but soon enough it turned into full out peals
of crazy glee, and a look that seemed to come right out of any sane person's
nightmares. But it was beautiful all the same.
"You want to die do you Wormtail? You want it to all stop? Huh? What about when
I wanted it to? What about then?!" he screeched, and all innocence and light
humor that had still been on his face, little there had been, abruptly
disappeared and what was left was something that would most likely haunt the
nightmares of many of the Death Eaters present.
Montresor leaned down and sniffed his prey's neck, loving the utter fear the
man held for him. For what he could do with him. For what he had done to him
and still could. Right now he was God. Right now, he could do whatever he
wanted with this man, everything that had been done to him.
But he wouldn't.
Not when the man had said please. He still had morals after all. Right?
Montresor grinned unknowingly at his thoughts, and pushed a bloody hand through
his face and hair, just loving the feel and smell and taste that beautiful
crimson held.
All the blood and fear and dark magic littering the air made him want to scream
and wank and just kill everyone in the room. And he fed on it. He fed on
how powerful he felt right now and all he wanted to do was kill the rat before
him and throw a few of his favorite dark spells at the many warm bodies that
would surely scream loudly and cause his pleasure to skyrocket to unimaginable
amounts.
He wanted to watch the light leave the man's eyes and he wanted Peter Pettigrew
to be grateful when he finally did it. He wanted Wormtail to want. It. And want
it he would.
The insanity never left his expression, even when he whispered soft words into
Wormtail's ear. Words that told him that everything would be alright, that by
suffering he had repented for his sins, that who he really was wasn't
Montresor, but the one and only Harry Potter.
Wormtail's murky brown eyes brightened in understanding and for once, he didn't
feel the heavy burden of guilt that constantly flooded him, day and night. The
guilt he had felt for over a decade for betraying his best friends because he
was afraid.
Afraid of the death he would surely be gifted with today. Guilty for having
almost done the unforgivable, killing those who had trusted him with their
lives. And finally, he felt the guilt for damning Harry Potter to a life
without his parents, a guilt he hadn't even known he felt, was lifted off his
shoulders and forced into a distant memory by the man he had thought would make
his death miserable. In fact, it was the best death he could have ever hoped
for.
A death without fear.
For once it was all okay, and it was because of this boy. They shared one final
look and Peter whispered, "Thank you."
And all at once the hate and bitterness that Pettigrew's betrayal had left in
his heart gave way and Montresor gave a heartbreakingly sweet smile to Peter
and for once he didn't cower in fear of torture or death. For once, he took it
all with a smile on his face and a grateful and thankful look in his eye.
And finally, the boy once known as Harry Potter, now Montresor, took Peter's
throat into his mouth and ripped it out with pearly white teeth. Blood and gore
flew everywhere, but in the midst of it all Peter didn't scream, not that he
could anymore.
In that moment he proved to all that he had truly been a Gryffindor. That he
deserved the title, and Montresor couldn't help the sliver of respect that
formed for Peter Pettigrew. With one last spray of blood that signaled Peter's
final breath, Montresor whispered,
"Good night and may you finally rest in peace."
And he died with a smile on his face.
Chapter End Notes
     WARNINGS: Slight main character death, gore, torture, sadistic
     thoughts, etc. Also, I was super into Sherlock when I wrote this
     chapter so Harry is slightly Sherlock-y. :D And sorry about a super
     hot Dark Lord.---wait, no I'M NOT HAHAHA. I can't resist. Ever.
     I want to make one other comment though...because I'm afraid people
     will misunderstand. While you haven't read Harry's backstory, you
     HAVE read Lily's memory of when Harry disappeared, and Peter was not
     at fault for Harry being taken from his parents AT ALL. Harry just
     made him THINK he was guilty, and Harry's crazy enough to blame Peter
     for his past as well. Anyway, there. :D
     Another thing! I want alleviate any fears or confusion. One, if the
     Dark Lord seems out of character, know that in my opinion, Tom Riddle
     was never as crazy or hateful as Voldemort. This Voldemort was
     smarter than the original and realized you probably shouldn't split
     your soul, which is YOU, so much. So, let's assume he just made one.
     A backup if his body ever died. Then, he could just make another when
     he combined with his other horcrux if he ever got hurt. And in my
     opinion, the horcruxes made Voldemort crazy and stupid in the books,
     so that's why he's a bit more chill here. Also, Voldemort is allowing
     Julian to act like that because, for one, he reminds him of himself,
     and also because Julian is an ally. He's not a Death Eater, he's
     being paid and whatnot. You'll see that Julian really isn't that
     special to Voldemort right now when I show some of his other allies.
     I just didn't want you to think I was making the dear Dark Lord too
     OOC.
     Okay there. :D Hope you enjoyed it and please leave your thoughts and
     feeling in a review below! :)
***** Courting the Enemy *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry this one took so long! Been focused on other stuff, and today I
     began rewriting one of my other stories. I've got three
     chapters...you should check it out! (Blatant advertising...you sink
     so LOW) Anyway, there are warnings at the bottom. But if you go
     check...your probably going to see what I'm warning about
     ANYway...eh. YOUR DECISION. Anyway, enjoy and let me hear your
     thoughts in a comment!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                     "Ale: Are you manipulating me again?
                  T.C.: Try not to fall for it. I dare you."
                                ― Steve Kluger
===============================================================================
Snape wasn't sure what to think.
Last night, after his talk with Julian, he had felt confident in his joining
with the boy. What with his charisma, promises that he prayed weren't empty,
and his speech of his wonderful return to the Dark, it had seemed like the
perfect thing to pull him out of the funk he had suffered through for the past
16 years. Ever since he had told the Dark Lord of the prophecy and had almost
gotten his first love killed, he had felt so much guilt that he had easily
joined the Light, all the while knowing that he would never be happy there.
So Julian's proposition had seemed like the most obvious and perfect choice for
him. Merlin knew all this spying and stress from playing on no team but his own
was beginning to kill him. Even if Julian hadn't given him a choice, he knew he
would have slipped up in the next few years or so. It had only been a matter of
time, especially since he hadn't even known what he was fighting for anymore.
But now, after that...charming display, he wasn't sure what to think. The last
few minutes of the rat's torture hadn't been filled with screams like the past
few hours. Instead, by the end, Pettigrew actually seemed happy. And that
thought alone unwillingly sent chills down his spine. It had been a rather
intense show, but mostly it was just Julian that scared the hell out of him,
not the sight of a tortured and dead body.
And yes, that boy did scare him. For good reason too.
Not enough to actually bring any kind of emotion to his face, no, he had been
through an entire war and an abusive childhood, he could take this, but it
didn't mean Snape was immune to his heart pumping and adrenaline racing, a sure
sign his fight-or-flight instincts were kicking in, meaning he was
actually afraid.He noticed all of this with a keen interest however. Unlike
most men his age, he actually enjoyed intense emotions, like fear. If only
because he felt them so rarely. After everything he had been through...that
sharp feeling in your gut, the breathing heavily, not from physical exertion,
but exertion of your emotions forcibly, and the need to just run, to get
anywhere from there, all of it was kind of enjoyable to him now.
It had truly been too long since he felt something that couldn't be easily
tucked away behind strong Occlumency walls. So as he watched Julian, the
seemingly innocent and sweetly intelligent boy with an angelic face, step up
gracefully with such dilated pupils he could see them from here, and then
gently trace one long, slender finger across his brow and suck the blood he had
acquired from the act, he allowed the fear that coursed through him, the fear
of prey being faced with an incredibly powerful predator, simply race through
his veins, and enjoyed it; not once regretting his choice to join with Mr.
Julian LaFaye.
===============================================================================
Ah. How wonderful. Harry sighed.
The feel of blood on his face and hands gave him a feeling reminiscent of a
mother's warm hug. In the face of death and his cool embrace, Julian felt
completely at home.
He licked Peter's still warm neck a few times, reveling in the taste of that
crimson goodness, but eventually quit, not wanting to damage himself by
absorbing too much iron. It just wasn't good for you. As he straightened
himself from his previous position of looming over one of his betrayer's now
soulless and cold body, he took a long look around the room. The whole place
was rather colorless, besides his own navy cloak, both his and the Dark Lord's
bright eyes, and of course, the tempting blood that was inching its
way, slowly, to the front line of Death Eater's who kneeled on the ground.
Harry slowly licked his lips, not noticing the way the Dark Lord leered at his
bloody face. He couldn't resist taking one of his fingers and stripping away
some of the delicious blood from his forehead, not wishing to waste any of it.
Usually, his kills were just shoot, and leave. Most of the time, Julian didn't
get a chance to properly enjoy it. This was one of those times he could, and he
would definitely savor it for weeks.
He wandlessly cut off one of Pettigrew's fingers, in memory of his past attempt
at escaping the authorities when he was found to be the betrayer of the
Potter's, and sent it back to his home. Any murder that he fulfilled
so personally, well, he had to keep a souvenir. It just didn't feel right if he
didn't. As he licked his finger clean and moaned at the taste, Julian took his
seat once again; acting as if nothing had happened. He cleaned up the mess that
was once Peter without regret; he had gotten his fun from the torture and kill,
so he no longer cared. He didn't clean himself though, he didn't quite want to
be rid of the intensely enjoyable feeling of blood yet. Anything else: dirt,
slime, sweat, was considered to be unclean in his book, but blood was pure; it
made him even cleaner than he was before. So he soaked in the glorious red
liquid and made sure to run his hands through his black curls a few times. He
wanted iteverywhere. Once he got comfortable again, he shot a curious look at
the Dark Lord.
Why isn't he talking yet? Surely once I finished torturing and killing Peter he
would just ignore me and continue with his speech. If I missed something
important it would have been my fault for not paying attention.
While blazing red eyes focused on his own cool green pair, he raised one slim
eyebrow, waiting for the Lord to proceed. Just before the silence became
uncomfortable Voldemort whispered, "Thank you ever so for that display
Montresor. I trust you'll treat myself and my Death Eaters to it again some day
soon." Said man instantly smirked smugly at Lord Voldemort's words.
So the whole time he was just dazed with how I committed that murder and
torture. I didn't know he was so easily distracted; wasn't even my best work.
Someone needs to get out more and have some fun of his own. However, all the
young assassin did was continue to smirk and bow his head in acceptance, head
cocked slightly to the side.
"Of course my Lord. I wouldn't dream of not gifting you with entertainment
again as soon as possible. Merely give me a time, date, and of course,
aplaymate." That last word was hissed quietly, but heard clearly by everyone in
the room. Cool emeralds now lit with a fire similar to the Dark Lord's. In that
moment, both thought of what havoc they could bring if they fought as one, and
both couldn't help the shiver of pleasure that rushed down their spines at the
idea.
===============================================================================
Hermione Granger had always viewed herself as more of an asexual being.
Meaning, the only thing that truly attracted her were books and the powerful
knowledge that lay within them. The fact that many girls in her dorm room would
stay up for hours gossiping about the many males in Hogwarts, was simply
baffling to her. She'd rather face a jealous and/or pissed off Ron any day
rather than that unique hell, thank you very much. However, the moment she saw
the perfect face of Julian LaFaye, she could feel the need to gush over a boy
like a "normal" teenage girl for the first time.
The tall, but lithely built boy looked even more handsome than Da Vinci's idea
of physical perfection. With devilish lips, slightly curved eyebrows, high
cheekbones, a sharp, but feminine jawline, perfectly pale, creamy skin, and the
most vivid color of green she had ever seen encompassing his wide, innocent
eyes, she could, for once, understand where all those bubble-headed girls were
coming from. However, Hermione wasn't entirely shallow; the main reason why she
was entranced was not for the green of those irises, but of the intelligence
that made them glow and brighten in the lightly lit room.
His politeness to her and her friends was also a breathe of fresh air. Did no
one in Gryffindor have manners? Said boy-no man, interrupted her thoughts of
him with a compassionate tap of the hand and a pair of confused emeralds that
no person, let alone a fifteen year old girl, could resist.
"Are you quite alright Hermione? I didn't mean to bore you with my escapades to
China. You just wouldn't believe how many terrible things exist there. Young
girls are still chucked away in favor of young boys, to carry on the family
name of course, and children are still allowed to work in barely inhabitable
factories. However, that's only the muggle side of it. The Wizarding World,
well, I don't even know where to start." And with that, Julian manipulated the
only person under 17 in the Order who posed a single threat to him.
Yet again, it was almost too easy. After his fun-filled time at Lord
Voldemort's manor, he had quickly apparated out, but not before the first act
of physical contact happened between the two. Just before he was going to spin
around, the Dark Lord caught his shoulder, and both immediately shut out the
rest of the world and focused on the feeling that emanated from that single
tough. Julian had thought their magic playing and snuggling up together had
felt good, but it was nothing compared to this.
From where the cold, white fingers of Lord Voldemort resided, intense waves of
pleasure could be felt racing through his entire body and to his core. Julian
moaned for a second before he got control over himself; that's how good it
felt. Both pulled away at the same time, having had enough time to bask in the
feeling, but realizing the time for fun was over. Now, it was time to analyze.
"Interesting…" Voldemort paused, not sure what else to say. He still wasn't
quite familiar with how his little assassin was, so he was wary of how the boy
would react. Even if it had felt very good, he didn't want the child to think
there was anything between them. Luckily, he had nothing to fear.
"Yes, definitely. I had noticed that our magic responded powerfully to each
other before this, but I just assumed it was because you are the Dark Lord. I
suppose it's only natural for touch to act as a better conductor than the air.
Did you ever feel such things with Lord Dumbledore? He is much stronger than
me, but it may be that it's because of both of our extremely dark magic, along
with the large and powerful cores we both have, that caused our magic to react
to each other this way."
Voldemort paused and leaned against the wall, this new mystery intriguing him
immensely. He had never had this type of reaction to anybody. He was also happy
to see the person who shared this mystery with him was logical and intelligent,
meaning someone who would look at this objectively, not emotionally.
"Definitely the second, if either. However, I've met many powerful dark wizards
and I've never had this type of reaction to them. Perhaps our cores are just
closely aligned." Julian didn't look up, but nodded slightly in
acknowledgement.
"I see; a reasonable explanation, but I believe it to be a bit more complicated
than just that. This will take further research and experimentation my Lord. I
trust we can both look for information on our own?" The brat smirked cheekily,
but surprisingly Lord Voldemort felt no need, or want, to hex the child. He was
only slightly amused and fascinated.
"Yes, we can. Do not let this get in the way of your mission though. Consider
this as more of an extracurricular activity, yes?" Now both grinned cheekily,
but neither minded. At the moment, they weren't Lord and minion, or even a
wealthy man and an immoral assassin; they were merely two intelligent people
having a friendly exchange.
"Of course my Lord. I wouldn't dream of it."
However, I digress.
Yes, almost too easy. The men and woman in the Order, or those that lived
within the walls of Black Manor, were sadly easily manipulated. Molly had been
under his thumb right from the beginning and soon after her husband had been as
well; with the help of a few stories about the many muggle inventions across
the planet and different muggle customs. After them came the Granger
muggleborn, who had been surprisingly intelligent, but easily influenced by his
good looks, making her worthless.
He hadn't yet met all the Weasley children, only Ronald and the twins, but he
had been pleasantly surprised by the two identical redheads. Not only were they
quite amusing, they also didn't seem to share the same prejudices as the rest
of their family, and seemed to suspect him of not being as innocent as he
appeared as well. However, that hadn't turned them away from him. In fact, they
seemed to only become more fascinated in him and the mystery surrounding him,
and Julian was a little excited to see if the two intelligent, older boys would
come join his cause.
While he would have no problem with killing them off like the others if they
chose not to join him, but like with Snape, he took no joy from spilling the
blood of those who were actually intelligent and worth saving. They were just
so rare.
However, he had been having a bit of trouble with the other two members of the
Golden Trio, as he had learned they were called, because of their jealousy
towards him. He wasn't too worried though. Soon enough, Jason would fall just
like Hermione, either from his charms or from Granger's nagging, and he
honestly didn't give two shits about the youngest male Weasley. It didn't take
a psychologist to understand the boy's uncomplicated personality.
He had always felt the need to be as great, or better, than each of his older
siblings, therefore developing a harsh and childish jealousy for any who stole,
or threatened to steal, what he thought to be his "rightful" thunder. And being
best friends with both the bright mudblood and Chosen One gave him that
uniqueness he so craved for within his home and family. He most likely thought
that Julian would try to take his place, but soon he wouldn't feel the need to
fear, not that he ever had. It wasn't like he would even spend enough time with
the idiots to actually form a strong bond, thank Merlin, but even if he did, he
wouldn't have put too much effort into it.
Besides, after a few weeks they would think of him as more of an adult, since
he would be going on missions with the Order and spending more time with their
parents than them, so they would stop trying to include him, as if he was
lonely or something. It was such a foreign concept to him that he actually had
a bit of trouble keeping his mask up when he realized it. He may be their age,
but he wasn't some sad and depressed geek with no friends. He was a
psychopathic assassin that was practically Lord Voldemort's right hand, not
that they had any idea. It was still insanely funny though.
"So...Julian. What school do you go to? Or do you still go to school?" Hermione
asked timidly. She felt like Ginny had when she had first seen Jason. He was
just so...ugh! Green eyes quickly cleared and focused on her, making her feel
like the most important girl in the world. Blue eyes in her peripheral vision
narrowed, but she couldn't care less.
"Oh, I've never went to a magical school, if that's what you mean. The first
few years of my life I went to a public muggle school, but after I learned
basic math and how to read and write, I met my guardian, and I dropped out."
Hermione looked at Julian with barely hidden awe. He became this powerful
withoutgoing to school? She had unknowingly voiced her thoughts aloud and
Julian laughed slightly.
"I'm not that powerful Hermione. Besides, like I mentioned, I had a guardian.
He taught me much of what I already know." Warm brown eyes watered slightly
with unshed tears, knowing the story of his parent by the tense of his
sentence.
"When did he...die?"
Emeralds suddenly turned cold, and she knew she had breached unsafe and
definitely restricted territory. Just as she was about to apologize, he lightly
grasped her hand, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of his soft, warm
palm.
"No apologies Hermione. It was long ago, even if the wounds still seem fresh.
While I don't wish to speak of him, just know that he will always be the most
important person in my life, whether he has gone to rest with Magic or will
return to me in this life or the next. All I know is that when two souls make a
connection as mine did with his, they always find a way to meet each other
again."
Emeralds suddenly grabbed the attention of everyone in the room without even
trying, and blazed with an emotion none of them could say they were familiar
with.
"Take this into consideration for the days to come, my friends. All familiar
souls, whether they be loved ones, friends, non magical ones, or even enemies;
they never quite manage to stay away from us for long. They always return to
us, willingly- or not."
===============================================================================
"So Professor, what's our next step? I mean, the kid was cool with joining, but
we don't really know what he's like or how well he fights. And since he defied
You-Know-Who, there's no way he can be a spy like Snape-"
"Not that I would let him Sirius." Molly interrupted, but Lord Black ignored
her entirely.
"So what's he gonna do? He's just a kid after all."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement at each of his old students. Just like
Molly, Albus was very wary of allowing their young Julian to fight, but he
however, had a different reasoning. Not only did he wish to keep as many young
people out of the war as possible, not that he had done very well in that
endeavor, but something about the boy had just been so familiar. Eerily
familiar to that of a schoolboy he had failed to save during WWll while he was
busy with his famous battle with Grindelwald.
I lost two battles that year. One for my heart and one for the Wizarding
World's future. And of course, for a lost orphaned boy who only wanted to prove
himself to be something. Anything more than what others thought him to be at
first glance.
Yes, Albus regretted a lot of the choices he had made. But this time, he would
redeem himself.
At first, he had been completely willing to sacrifice Jason Potter. He was the
Chosen One, and would have to defeat Voldemort, and probably end up dying in
the process if his suspicions were correct. However, as time passed and he got
to know the boy, the more he cared for him as his own grandson, and the more he
realized he had no intentions of letting another innocent die in place of his
mistakes.
Oh Arianna. How I failed you. He sighed internally.
That weight would never lift off his shoulders, and not once did he wish for it
to. During his younger years he had let his own magic, self-importance, and his
best friend's, Grindelwald's, narcissistic personality inflate his own ego to
such a magnitude that he had actually thought he would join with his first, and
only, lover, to take over the world and make it a better place.
It had been for the Greater Good after all.
Albus always shuddered at the thoughts of his younger self. He thanked Magic
time and time again for making him see sense before it was too late. And not
that he wouldn't ever go back to change it if he had the chance, a part of him
was happy Arianna had died. If only to help ground him when his god-like
complex acted up again. Dumbledore shook his old head slightly, beard swishing
to and fro. He always managed to get caught up in memories; memories that
shouldn't be thought of when he should be focusing on more important things.
Like Julian LaFaye, aka Montresor.
The boy was a...piece of work. Albus, himself, couldn't detect any malicious
intentions within the boy, but that had been the same situation with young Tom
Riddle. The only thing that had clued him in was that single visit to the
orphanage.
I can make them hurt-if I want.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have had a clue, like the rest of the professors. And
after a few years, his suspicions had lessened. He always thought that perhaps
Tom had just been bullied often at his "home", but once he felt the loving
embrace of Hogwarts, he had managed to heal. However, all his dying inklings of
something not being quite right with the too smart, too handsome, too polite,
just overall too perfect boy were suddenly resurrected the day the Chamber of
Secrets had been opened. Only one Parselmouth lived within the entire school,
that he was aware of, and that person was the one and only Tom Riddle.
And from that day onward Albus Dumbledore watched as the most powerful and
feared Dark Lord in history grew up and wreaked havoc across the whole British
Wizarding community, and sooner rather than later, world. Dumbledore sometimes
liked to reminisce about Tom as the smart and charismatic young boy he had once
been. Unlike many Gryffindors, Albus didn't hold any sort of prejudice for the
Slytherins. That might also be because of his age, but most people over a
century old wouldn't care for such frivolities. In fact, he had something akin
to respect for the ambitious house.
In his opinion, Slytherins were the most honest of the lot. Every person lied
and manipulated to get their way, that was just the way the world was, but
Slytherins admitted it without shame, and did they do it well. He often wished
Tom was still like that. In his honest opinion, he agreed with many things Tom
had used to speak of in the 50's and 60's. Dark creatures, for one, deserved
rights. Along with that, so many magics that were banned, definitely shouldn't
be. Of course there were some that were altogether deadly and shouldn't be
allowed to be used under any circumstances, but the restrictions in place now
were just ridiculous. Not that Dumbledore always believed that to be true.
Back then, he had been completely against anything dark because he had still
been getting over Grindelwald. Now, Dumbledore realized that magic was just
that, magic. In its essence, magic was neither Light nor Dark. It
just was. However, how you used that magic was what should be taken into
consideration, in the case of laws anyhow.
There were more things he didn't agree with though; like blood purity and
distancing themselves from muggles. While he knew the whole bloody purity angle
made by Tom was just to generate support from powerful Pureblood ministry
officials and their rich families, he knew Voldemort truly believed in
completely closing the Wizarding World off from muggles. In very few situations
did Albus look through rose-tinted glasses, but sadly, this happened to be one
of them.
Dumbledore didn't want to believe magic would be persecuted. He wanted to
believe that everyone could live in harmony if they just slowly outed
themselves. And just like men are willful to do, he put his old wizened head
into some proverbial sand and pretended all was well. Besides that, Dumbledore
now agreed with most of Tom's old ideals. What he completely disagreed with
though, were his ways of achieving said ideals. Instead of trying to go through
the courts, when Tom hadn't seen anything happening or any people joining her
revolution, he had started an all-out war with Wizarding Britain, something
Dumbledore could not agree with.
Why shed more blood? They had just gotten out of the war with Grindelwald, even
if there hadn't been too many wizarding casualties, there had been loads of
muggle ones. Why must there be more lives lost all because someone didn't agree
with you? So Dumbledore, unintentionally, made himself the beacon of
hope again, and tried to stop someone who he had failed, again. All in all,
Dumbledore was just tired. He just wanted to rest, but he couldn't quite yet.
He still had to save everyone, and this time, he wouldn't let any innocent take
the fall.
Not like Arianna had.
===============================================================================
"Please! Just stop it you bastard. Leave us both alone!" A frail woman yelled.
Harry looked on in silence as the stocky male smacked her in the face. Hard. He
distantly noticed that that would leave a nasty bruise in the morning. She was
very petite, and had pretty blue eyes with small golden shards. With her long
white-gold hair that reminded him of the Malfoy's, she was quite the catch. But
all those bruises on her took away her beauty, instead making her appear weak
and fragile. Weakness in no way attracted him. It just made him want to squish
whoever it was that showed it like the bug they were.
He cocked his gun, hands completely steady and eyes unfeeling. The man took
another hit, but he didn't feel the need to hurry. Besides, the way his barrel
looked in the moonlight was quite captivating. Green and silver truly were a
great combination. Another hard smack could be seen, and this time the woman
fell down on her side. The man was actually quite large, making a sliver of
respect for the woman who could take such harsh blows form for her, and he had
shortly cropped brown hair.
Looks like military. Maybe he was a jackass to one of his people and that's why
they want him dead.
Then, he lifted her up again, easily, as if she were a doll, and threw her on
the table, whilst removing the thin nightdress she had been wearing a few
moments before.
Or maybe he raped one of them. Seems to be common practice between these two.
Suddenly, he felt the urge to eat a cinnamon roll.
I wonder if I have any at the house. I hope so, because the urge won't leave
until I get one.
For a few minutes, while he contemplated making himself that delicious treat,
he was completely oblivious to what the poor woman was going through. He could
easily hear her screams and whimpers as he raped her small, helpless body, but
he honestly couldn't care less. He needed some cinnomany goodness! He blinked
his eyes owlishly a second later; realizing that he had gotten off track, and
internally promised himself the sweet, gooey gift once he went back home. He
quickly took his shot, hitting the 40 year old right in the back of the head
and apathetically watched as the woman screamed bloody murder.
Just as he started packing away his stuff, he noticed her frightened eyes lock
on him, and without a second thought, he shot her right in her pretty face too.
Couldn't have witnesses after all. He started packing again, really, couldn't
these people even attempt to not make his job any harder?, when he saw the face
of a young boy pop out of one of the small bedrooms. He took one look at the
two bodies, one of his father and the other of his mother, and let out a silent
scream, unknowingly falling to his knees in the process.
His mother's usually perfect face that always became an easy smile at the sight
of her special little boy was blown completely to bits. One of her beautiful
eyes had even made its way across the room. His father, however, had his brains
blown apart instead, red and grey mixing together into one all in all,
unappealing mass and it sure didn't look as cool as it did on those zombie
shows. It just looked freaking terrifying and disgusting.
Just as he could feel himself about to actually scream, he felt a warm hand
touch his shoulder and he turned around slowly. In front of him stood a boy no
older than 16, dressed in all black. He didn't notice the shotgun attached to
his back and didn't notice the wand in his hand. Compassionate green eyes were
all that filled his sight and he grabbed on to the boy, seeking comfort and
momentarily forgetting about what he had just seen.
"Hey there kid. My name's Harry. What's yours?" The small child, no older than
seven, looked up with a quiver in his lip, eyes the same as his beautiful
mother's.
"I'm I-isaac. Are-are you an angel? Are you gonna save my mama and papa?" Harry
cocked his head to the side and fingered one of Isaac's loose brown curls. The
boy immediately leaned in to the touch.
"No, I can't save them now. They have passed. But I will give you two choices
young Isaac." The small boy nodded shakily, fearing the worst, but he calmed
down considerably at the sight of those caring, honest emeralds.
"One, I can take away all your memories. You won't have to deal with having to
feel the pain of them dying. I'll make sure to take you to the best family I
can find and you can live happily ever after. Without your parents. Or, I can
take you to your mama and papa, but you'll never be able to come here again.
You'll have to leave your friends, school, and everything else. But you'll be
with them. I swear." Isaac bit his lip thoughtfully, not sure on what he should
do. But eventually, he decided on the obvious choice. One that both of them had
known he would choose all along.
"Pinkie promise I'll be with them?" And Harry gave him the most gorgeous grin
at the words, one even better than his mama's, and took his pinkie in his own,
while pulling him into a strong, but gentle embrace.
"Pinkie promise." he whispered, and Harry's wand eased its way out of his
sleeve, and without a single word, Isaac's eyes became lifeless just like his
mother's.
Chapter End Notes
     WARNINGS: Rape, gory death, death of a child, psychotic musings, etc.
     Regular stuff.
     BTW: That thing with touching between Voldemort and Harry was taken
     from Athey, who is an AMAZING writer of fanfiction. I don't remember
     what her story was called, but I took it from her. I didn't ask
     permission, but it's her idea (that I know of) so I'll give credit
     where it's due.
***** Past, Present, and Future *****
Chapter Summary
     Hello all! Sorry this chapter took so long. My mind hasn't been on
     fanfiction lately. ANYway, this is the final chapter that I already
     have written...so...you get to wait on chapters now! Isn't that
     FANTASTIC!?! No? Well....hm. Warnings are at the bottom and I hope
     you enjoy the newest installment to Malicious Intentions!
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 "He wanted to leave the past a few hundred miles down the road, shake it off
   like dust. But that was the problem with the past. It kept finding him."
                      ― Suzanne Woods Fisher, The Keeper
===============================================================================
People had always been fascinating to Julian.
Growing up he was never treated like everyone else, so of course that made him
wish to seek out the reason why, and this of course led him to studying the
people around him. This led to the belief that everyone around him were
pathetic wastes of space. And his opinion hadn't changed with age.
The Aurors around him chatted and joked, bursts of laughter appearing at
seemingly random intervals. Like always Julian felt completely out of it, all
of his attention being required to just understand what was going on. This had
always been the hardest part. Making idle chit chat. Especially when over three
quarters of his mind had no interest in fulfilling that duty. So instead he
just smiled and nodded, a skill he had easily mastered a long time ago.
However, the skill was useless when you were being asked a question.
"So how'd you learn magic without going to Hogwarts? I haven't heard of any
other wizarding schools nearby that aren't year round."
Uraz for strength, Thorn for challenge….oh crap what's the one for life again?
Remember, that's the one with a combination. You have birth, which is Berkano
and-
"Kid?"
A hand waved in his face and Julian realized his error. Green eyes widened
comically and his smile turned into a sheepish grin. He forced his hand to run
through his hair nervously while looking at the man from beneath his lashes.
"Sorry sir...got lost in my own world." The man, Sirius Black, barked out a
laugh and smacked him on the back.
"Don't worry about it kid. The whole smile and nod trick is the easiest in the
book. I totally get ya. You wouldn't believe how many conversations
with any adult I've gotten through with..."
However, the skill was useful when getting caught because if you played it
right it would bring you even closer with whoever you were trying to ignore.
Looks like he'll continue on about school stories for awhile. Now what was that
second rune for life?
===============================================================================
Twist. Jump. Block. Protego. Stupify. Incarcerous. Repeat.
The mantra repeated itself over and over again within Julian's sharp mind,
graceful movements allowing him to suffer no injuries at all. So far, he had
taken down about twelve of the thirty werewolves present. All around him
panicked "soldiers" sent slashing hexes and deadly curses at frightened men and
women. It was pathetic to see how much fear controlled all of
these filthy animals.
They all deserved to die in his opinion, if only to get out of his way. Not to
mention-
"It BIT ME! OH MY GOD. Nononono! Please Merlin no!" It screamed in his ear.
Julian couldn't stop the look of disgust from breaching his pale face.
How dare it interrupt his inner monologue? Not to mention his record of taking
down seven werewolves in a row without stopping. He was just about to cross his
all-time record of nine and that fool had to distract him! How could the filth?
With a devastating sneer marring his lips unintentionally, Julian couldn't
resist uttering a slashing hex to cleanly cut through its arm through the
shoulder.
Just as he was admiring the cleanness of the cut, for from this distance he was
surprised he had gotten it so perfect looking the stupid creature just had to
start screaming bloody murder again.
"W-wha? My FUCKING ARM. WHAT THE FUCK! Why-oh my god it hurts! It huurts!
Please-fuck make it stop. MAKE IT STOP. Oh fuck- I can still feel it! I can
feel it, where'd it go. Where's my arm gone? Wha-FUCK." It's pasty skin was
almost as white as his own with fear and shock, wide blue eyes blurry with
tears and disbelief.
"I-I can still f-feel it. I-I'm m-moving it, b-but its not working. WHY ISN'T
IT W-WORKING!" It cried pathetically.
While it continued to sniffle, Julian carefully checked his surroundings. Black
and Potter were off somewhere else and all others were busy taking down the
angry werewolves. Perhaps just this once… He slowly strode over to sorry lump
that called itself Daniel Press. A pathetic excuse for a half-blood with a
muggleborn mother and a muggle father. Perfect red drops fell to the ground
from its shoulder and soaked everything beneath it.
Looks like you're going to bleed out soon mister. He sang internally.
With a worried pout and frown between his eyes, Montresor bent down to eye
level with the animal before him. It continued to whine and mumble pathetically
under its breath.
"I c-can feel it. M-my arm's moving, but it's not there and it hurts. It hurts
s-so baaad." The mantra repeated itself until it was just whining incoherently
to itself, tears leaked from its dilated eyes and Julian couldn't help but lick
one up. The animal shouldn't care who takes its tears anyways. Not like it's
ever going to use them.
"W-what are you doing man? Call for help! I need a Heal-healer. FUCK. Help me!"
Montresor chuckled darkly and it's face lost the little bit of color it still
had.
"You-you're one of them. GUYS! HEL-" He waved his wand without a care,
silencing it easily.
"Do be quiet would you? I was trying to have a moment and you just had to
start screaming like an imbecile. Did your mommy never tell you about using
your inside voice?" Montresor tapped it's nose with his wand and shook his head
condescendingly. As the glorious blood began to start oozing from the place his
arm used to be instead of spurting, Montresor tutted and released a feral grin.
"Looks like someone's out of time. See you on the other side." And with one
last glimpse at the boy who sipped on his tears like a fine wine, he shut his
eyes for the last time.
===============================================================================
"So what did you think Julian? Not too scared were ya?"
Black easily swung his thick arm over the smaller wizard's shoulders. For some
reason he reminded him of someone he used to know. Bright eyes glanced up at
him bashfully and Sirius grinned sharply at the sight. The poor boy was much
too shy. And then he knew who he reminded him of.
His brother-Regulus.
Of course he didn't look much like him...except for the black hair, but there
was something about his mannerisms...it just screamed his baby bro. The brother
he failed to save.
While Sirius had never been close to his younger brother, he had
still cared. He realized now that the distance between them was mostly his
fault, making the loss that much harder to bear. Poor sweet Regulus...all
alone, forced into Black politics and inevitably joining the Dark Lord. Sirius
still remembered the last time he spoke to him. It had been so long ago, but he
still remembered it as if it were yesterday...
===============================================================================
"You can't just LEAVE! I mean, yes you argue with mother and father, but that
doesn't mean-"
"Just shut it Reggy! You don't fucking know ANYTHING." Sirius slammed his trunk
on his unmade bed, throwing in random bits and pieces-things he knew he didn't
need but still wanted to bring with him, things that spoke of home. The home he
had always pretended he had.
"Yes I do Siri. You-you can't leave. You can't leave me b-by myself." Sirius
slowed down his packing and turned towards Regulus, not surprised to see tears
in his eyes.
Dark grey just like their bitch mother.
Sirius sneered and shut his trunk, glaring so hard he was surprised the boy's
face didn't melt off.
"Oh, does the perfect Black heir need someone to take the brunt of mummy's
temper? I'm fucking DONE with this family. And that includes YOU Regulus." His
brother had flinched at the full use of his name, not having heard Sirius call
him that since...ever.
"B-but Siri-"
Sirius smacked the hand that had been reaching toward him and Regulus brought
it to his chest with a look of complete surprise on his face. Sirius's face
morphed into regret immediately.
"Oh shit I'm sorry I just-"
"You know what? Fine. Go ahead and leave. I-I won't miss you and no one else in
this family will either! Go away you- you blood traitor!"
And with those words Sirius's choice was made and without a final glance, he
strode away from his family with cold anger and sadness chilling his heart.
===============================================================================
He had never forgiven himself for not making up with his brother. He thought
about him every day...the regret he felt completely overwhelming sometimes. The
idea that he'd never be able to tell Regulus just how much- Just how much
he loved him tore him to pieces.
And the idea that Regulus, no Reggy actually thought that he didn't- it burnt
those torn pieces to ash.
But this boy, this young sweet boy who acted so much like his baby brother, and
who had almost been taken by the Dark, well, maybe if he saved him, it would be
like saving his own brother too.
Right?
===============================================================================
Harry felt like he was on cloud nine.
All of his plans were happening just as predicted, he had gotten in a nice
bloody kill today, and he had the rest of the day off.
Everything was splendid.
He actually felt like treating himself. Maybe he would make steak tonight! Nice
and bloody, with a yummy baked potato. Just perfect.
And of course, his wrist band had to go off, signaling that the Dark Lord
wanted to see him.
Ugh, this is why I became an assassin and not a waiter or something. I don't
want to be CALLED. Goodness.
But like the good little boy he was he didn't fuss or complain, even if this
was mildly irritating and he did not want to play with little Death Eaters and
powerful Dark Lords right now. Couldn't he just hang out by himself for a bit?
The burning he was beginning to feel on his wrist gave him his answer. With an
exaggerated eye roll to himself Harry apparated over, feeling much like a busy
mother being called upon by her spoiled child. As if he didn't
have better things to do.
He slid one hand through his hair and made sure his white dress shirt was
straight. He didn't bother with a robe. He didn't feel like impressing anyone
with how wizard-y he looked. Mostly, he just wanted to go home and eat...but
hey, he wasn't known for his perfect control for nothing right?
With a deep breath Montresor cleared his mind of all thoughts and walked into
the room with every bit of confidence he possessed and a grin to match. With a
short bow and cheeky smirk he entered the richly styled room. It wasn't one he
was familiar with, but it was just as nicely furnished as the others he had
seen. The walls were a dark green, undoubtedly in recognition of Salazar
Slytherin, and the floors were a white marble.
Large windows with colored glass adorned each wall, but curtains covered each
of them, giving the room a dark and cold feeling. Montresor couldn't have been
more at home and easily walked over to the dining table that stretched across
over half of the room. The Dark Lord sat at the head unsurprisingly, and Harry
looked to him for instruction on his seating.
His whole being burned at the submissive gesture.
Lord Voldemort grinned and waved his long-fingered hand at the place to his
right and without another glance he took his seat, hands placed behind his
head. For a moment they sat in silence, the only two beings within the large
room. Thoughts of steak and taking care of his contract on Rodrick Penthouse
this evening flowed through his mind like soda.
At first they were refreshing, but they left a sour aftertaste, making him
crave more.
He opened his eyes without warning and set his hands on the table, accidentally
brushing against the Dark Lord's own. Both moaned without permission and pulled
away just as fast. Montresor's lips pinched slightly, but nothing else crossed
his face.
"I apologize my Lord. It was purely accidental."
He then realized that the Dark Lord didn't look angry, merely curious. He
gripped Harry's hand tightly without his consent, snatching it like a snake
after a fat mouse, causing both to feel wave after wave of pleasure run through
them. Neither of their faces changed.
"Have you done your homework Montresor? Or have Dumbledore and his lackey's
kept you busy?" Voldemort's eyes glittered ominously, obviously hoping he would
be incapacitated by the pleasure running through his body. Harry loved nothing
more than disappointing.
"Of course my Lord. The link between us must either be by soul or magic. While
our predicament has never been recorded based on my findings, similar instances
have been seen with soul bonds. Mainly between close siblings or lovers. Since
we are neither, I'm assuming our magic has some sort of bond. It's never been
heard of out of close family members, and even then it's extremely rare and not
to the degree of our...connection. However, if our magic was similar enough,
theoretically this could happen. Your magic sees mine as his own and vice
versa, causing them to want to be as close as possible. I don't completely
understand why this causes pleasure of all things though."
Voldemort looked to the distance, his thumb beginning to stroke the outside of
Montresor's hand without his knowledge.
"What you have said is much of what I have found as well. Certain types of soul
magic that I'm sure you aren't privy to could also theoretically cause this
effect, but the ways of it coming about are impossible between us. So yes, it
must be a magical bond. The pleasure induced may be from our magic
actually meeting. It rejoices at seeing what it finds to be something of a long
lost brother of sorts. I'm more interested in the possible benefits of this
relationship, however."
Fire-red eyes met Montresor's cool green and the Dark Lord unknowingly licked
his lips. He brought his other hand up and placed it upon the other male's pale
cheek. Neither looked away from the other.
"Because our magic is so similar, we could most likely tap into the other's and
use their magical core as well as our own. Imagine all the complicated rituals
and spells one could do with access to a whole other pool of magic. The
mere possibilities…"
As the Dark Lord had been talking, Montresor and him had slowly began edging
closer to one another. By the end of it they were nose to nose. Voldemort's
words died off and silence echoed throughout the room, and never did red and
green break their stare. Voldemort could clearly feel the boy's breath on his
own lips, but before he could do anything about that small fact the heavy wood
doors bursted open, causing them both to rip apart their gazes, faces, and
hands.
The Dark Lord saw many of his other allies entering, internally ticking each of
them off when the boy he had recently began thinking of as a enigma let out a
harsh gasp.
It was the most real emotion he had ever seen come from the younger wizard. He
looked to the boy immediately and was surprised at what he saw. Montresor's
face expressed complete disbelief and above all joy. And when he whispered what
he did, Voldemort could barely believe his ears.
"F-father?"
Chapter End Notes
     WARNINGS: Gore, Death, lots of cursing. Almost-kiss haha.
     Hope you enjoyed it and I'd absolutely LOVE to hear what you think.
     Remember, reviews make me want to update faster and next chapter is
     Harry's backstory. :D
***** Forever and Ever *****
Chapter Notes
     Hello! I'm officially posting new chapters on both here and FF. Can't
     go over there for more chapters...sorry. Also, apologies for this
     taking longer than I thought it would! My internet went off, so the
     last couple scenes I had to write had to be saved for today. This
     chapter is EXTREMELY graphic and disturbing. Probably the worst I've
     ever written. Lots of stuff happening. So, if that stuff bothers you,
     warnings will be on the bottom. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise
     for the various freaks out there just like me. :D Anyway, I hope you
     enjoy about 10,000 words of Harry's backstory!
     For those who don't read my A/N's....WARNINGS ON BOTTOM YOU MAY WANT
     TO CHECK IT OUT!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
All you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach. Don't you ever tame
                   your demons, always keep them on a leash.
                         - Hozier, Arsonist's Lullabye
===============================================================================
"Don't worry mama; I'll take care of us." Harry said, smiling in a way he knew
his mummy would trust.
He understood that she was embarrassed and worried about all the people around,
and even if he didn't get it, he didn't want his mummy stressed. So he did what
he could. Her eyes crinkled for a moment, unsure of what to do, but she gave in
eventually-rushing to get whatever she wanted so badly from the store. Harry
just grabbed his little brother's hand who gurgled happily, his tan skin
conflicting harshly with Harry's pale white. Jason stumbled a bit, but Harry
righted him and sat him at one of the tiny chairs in the kid's section.
Harry focused really hard, hoping that no one, especially those big people with
the flashy things would find them. Like always, his wish came true and he
grinned, grabbing a book off the shelf, struggling a bit to understand some of
the words.
What's a phantom? Never seen a word with p and h together. How would you say
that?
As he rolled the possible meaning and pronunciation of the word, a dark shape
appeared behind him, hood covering its face. But Harry didn't notice him at
all. And he sure didn't notice when the shape shot a spell at his back and
apparated away with him.
===============================================================================
Harry, no matter how hard he tried to remember, couldn't recall a time at the
Dursley's when he was loved or cared for.
He didn't know why he was forced to come here when beforehand he had been
perfectly happy. With the younger, differently colored version of him, a woman
with fiery red hair, and a man who had the same face as his own. They had all
been really nice, always feeding him when he was hungry and reading him stories
at night when he was restless, and secretly scared of what might be hidden in
the dark corners of his room.
And he had had his own room! It was really pretty, with bright yellows and
light blues and a big bed in the middle with the softest blankets ever. But
now...well, he lived in a cupboard of all places.
There were constantly spiders everywhere, which he had been scared of at first
cause they were creepy, but had befriended soon after when he started getting
really lonely.
Yeah. It was really tough at this new place sometimes.
Aunt Petunia always reserved her harshest look for him and her husband, Vernon,
was really mean. His face always got super red at the sight of Harry, and
sometimes he'd grab Harry a little too roughly and he couldn't help but think
that this never happened at the nice place.
And with every passing day, Harry began to believe that the nice place had
never existed. That it had all been a dream. And in the deepest part of his
heart, he began to believe this because the alternative, well, the alternative
was that those wonderful people with warm smiles and happy faces reserved
for him-they gave him up on purpose.
And if that was the case, then he was as worthless as the Dursley's thought him
to be.
===============================================================================
                                 2 Years Later
===============================================================================
Harry's first day at school had been everything he thought it would be. Some of
the teachers were nice, but most had already been talked to by his Aunt and
Uncle, so they hated him just like everyone else.
The kids were okay, until Dudley saw that his little freak cousin was getting
any kind of attention that didn't include fists and insults. He threatened and
poisoned them against Harry, making him more alone than ever. He didn't
understand why everyone just took the Dursley's word for it. Why didn't he have
a chance to prove himself? Why couldn't he be liked for once? He didn't think
there was anything extremely wrong with him. He was just a regular kid.
But you're not. You're just a nasty little freak. His mind whispered to him,
sounding oddly like Aunt Petunia herself.
And as the days passed, the teachers hating him, his peers ostracizing him, and
his 'family' utterly despising him, that voice began to morph with his own and
what before had just been one of many mean insults thrown at him became a
defining title.
===============================================================================
"You're such a stupid freak Potter. I want you to say it for me. Say it!"
Dudley's fists pounded into his stomach, and then onto his face when he fell to
his knees. The boys around him giggled and pointed, finding Harry's position
hilarious.
"Look at the fairy cry! Only nasty fairy boys cry like that. I bet you're not
even a boy! You're just a big blubbering girl!" Harry whimpered and bit his
lip, trying to hold in his cries. They were right of course. Harry couldn't
even take a few punches without tearing up. All the other boys could
when they played.
But they don't insult each other too do they? And they don't all gang up on
just one.
Harry ignored that train of thought though in favor of keeping himself upright.
Dudley sent one last kick his way, right on his chin, and he fell over
backwards, letting loose a great sob.
"Oh, you gonna cry for your mummy? But wait, you don't have one do you! Stupid
Potty wants his mOOmmy." Dudley sang.
Harry wiped his face, tears and blood streaked his small fist. Just as all the
boys began to crowd him, a voice interrupted.
"Hey! What you all doin'? We playn' a game?" The boy marched through the crowd,
dark brown fringe falling into his eyes every now and then.
"Oh, why you all messed up? You guys pickn' on him?" The boy pointed to him and
Harry shied away from the extra attention. Three guys on him was enough. He
couldn't take four.
"Eh, it's just Freaky Potty. It's not picking if they deserve it. That's what
my dad says." The blonde on the left puffed up his chest and it sickened Harry.
How could hurting someone else ever be considered okay?
"Well I don' think that's very nice. You need ta leave 'im alone." Harry's
apathetic stare into the sky turned sharply to the new boy, his eyes widening
with surprise.
"You can't just say that and make us stop. We do what we want to." The other
boy, a ginger, raised his eyebrow mockingly at the other boy.
"Well I guess I'll just have to stop you then, huh?" Dudley growled angrily,
his face getting red just like his father's and Harry flinched. He didn't like
thinking about how Vernon got when he looked like that.
"Whatever you guys. We can beat it up later." And they stomped off.
Harry still laid on the ground and he assessed his injuries. His nose was
definitely broken and his belly really hurt. He just hoped his freaky abilities
would help him out. While feeling himself he almost missed the hand in his
face.
Almost.
Harry's eyes snapped up to the brightest blue he had ever seen. Like that
bedroom...and when the boy plopped beside him and gave him half of his salami
and swiss sandwich, he smiled for the first time in a long time.
===============================================================================
                          A Little Over 1 Year Later
===============================================================================
"So you don't have a mummy or daddy?" Harry shook his head softly, messy black
curls sprawled and intertwining with the grass.
"I sometimes have these weird dreams...about this family. But I don't think
they're real."
All was silent for a moment when his first, and only friend, whispered, "I wish
I didn't have a mummy or daddy."
Harry's eyebrows squished together, his face twisting with confusion.
"What do you mean?"
The other boy was sprawled right beside him, but he had righted himself on his
side, his hands lightly running through the grass where his hair was. Ever
since that day during lunchtime the other boy, whose name was actually Scott
Washer, had stuck by Harry's side like super glue. Harry couldn't be more
happy.
"Well...my daddy isn't like other daddies. He gets really mad a lot, but
when he gets mad he throws me and my mommy around. I don't like it when he does
that." Harry looked at Scott sadly, completely understanding where he was
coming from. He knew how daddies got.
"It's okay Scott. Sometimes Uncle Vernon gets like that too, but he doesn't
hurt Aunt Petunia or Dudley. He...he just comes after me." Scott's eyes widened
with surprise, his hand reaching out to grip Harry's.
"Does he do the nighttime thing too?" Harry's face returned to confusion, but
he grabbed Scott's hand when it reached out to him anyways.
"What nighttime thing? Vernon's never come into my cupboard before." Scott
sighed in obvious relief, his grip on Harry's hand moving to his shoulder to
bring him into a hug.
"Don't worry about it Harry. As long as it doesn't happen to you, it'll be
okay."
===============================================================================
                              Another Year Later
===============================================================================
"Stupid freak! How dare you use your freaky abilities in my house! Get out! GET
OUT!"
Harry ran for his life, short bony legs moving as fast as possible. A dish
crashed beside his face, small pieces of glass cutting into his bruised cheek.
He dashed through the door, running until he made it to his only safe place.
The place with the willow tree and soft grass.
He huddled by the trunk and wiped his tears, blood falling from the cuts on his
face. He gingerly poked the bruises appearing around his neck and arm were he
had been grabbed and winced. He wished with all his might that Scott were here
because it had never been this bad and he swore he didn't mean to slam Dudley
against the wall but he had been scared and didn't want his favorite fairy tale
book to be ruined by him and-
"What are you doing here Harry? And-oh my god what's wrong with your face!? Are
you okay?" The older boy rushed to his side, bright blue eyes like starlight
darkened by worry.
"I-I...I did a freaky th-thing and Vernon got mad and I un-understand he was
right to be-"
"Don't you dare Harry." Harry's gaping mouth slammed shut at Scott's tone, his
eyes lowered in fear and worry. He didn't see how the boy's eyes softened at
the sight of him.
"Harry, y-you know that you aren't a freak right? I mean, whatever you can
do, whatever it is, it's a blessing. You wanna know how I know?" Harry's tear-
filled eyes lifted up slightly and Scott gripped his shoulders kindly.
"Because everything about you is perfect and kind. Nothing about you is wrong
or freaky, so whatever powers you have must be just as cool as you." Harry
grinned shyly at that and shook off his hands, even though he knew that he was
wrong.
"Thanks Scott. You always know what to say." Scott grinned brightly at that and
took his seat right beside Harry, a hand lifted up to curl around Harry's
shoulders.
"Yeah, I am pretty amazing." Harry shoved at Scott's side, bruised face curled
into a brilliant smile.
"Whatever mister. Why are you here anyway?" Scott's own smile dimmed
considerably and he scooted even closer to Harry's side.
"Some...things were happening at the house. I didn't want to be around for
awhile." Harry's own face darkened and he cursed himself for not being able to
help his best friend more. Scott always knew what to do, but Harry wasn't as
good about helping out his friend with words. Actions though…
"How about I spend the night tonight?" Scott turned his head so sharply he
almost hit it on the tree trunk, his mouth opened slightly in surprise.
"I-no Harry. You can't come to my house. Ever." Harry's head cocked to the
side, not understanding his best friend's words.
The Dursley's never hurt Harry when company was around, even when the only
company were Dudley's little friends. If Harry was around, Scott's parents
would leave him alone too, right?
"Why not? If I'm around your daddy won't hurt you. Vernon never
does anything when people are around." Scott started shaking his head
immediately, but stopped at the look on Harry's face and looked upward for a
moment in thought.
"Well...my parents never have anyone around when I'm around. Or I'm just sent
to my room. Do you...do you think it'll work?" Harry nodded his head
frantically, his heart pumping with excitement.
"Yeah! We can stay up and tell stories and stuff like other people do at
sleepovers. And you won't even have to worry about the nighttime stuff!"
Harry could see Scott's excitement raise with every word, his eyes shining and
lips splitting open, a flower blooming and growing faster and faster-until he
mentioned the 'nighttime stuff'. Then the flower wilted and died.
"What's wrong? Everything would be perfect. No worries about hurting or the
nightti-"
"No Harry." Scott swiped Harry's hand away which had been reaching towards his
shoulder, his face dark with a grimace.
"I can't risk that okay? Y-you don't understand. T-the nighttime stuff…" His
face twisted to something unrecognizable and his usually bright blue eyes
darkened with fear. But Harry had had enough. He had always been the submissive
one, the damsel in distress. But no more. Sometimes even the weak have to take
up arms and fight for what's right. Especially when it concerns their knight in
shining armor.
"No Scott." His older friend, best friend, looked up at him, completely
shocked. Harry never talked back.
"I am going to help you. Every time I'm hurt you always help me out, and you
have to deal with everything alone. I'm not letting you be alone anymore. I'm
coming with you and that's that." Scott shook his head again, disbelief still
prominent on his face.
"You do help me though Harry, but this-"
"This is something I need to help you with Scott. I'm telling you, with me
there, we'll both be safe." And Harry pulled Scott into a tight hug and made
sure to give him a kiss on the head afterwards like he remembered the redhead
always doing when he was scared in his dreams.
"Now, what kinds of games do you have?"
===============================================================================
"Just come in here real quiet. I don't know if he's done with mum yet."
Together, Harry and Scott made their way to the richer side of Privet Drive,
where the three story houses with separate buildings for their garages were.
Harry had never been down this way. Not only was he not allowed to stray too
far from the house usually, but the obvious wealth bothered him. Made him feel
lowly and inadequate. Harry looked down and couldn't help but notice how frayed
and dirty his baggy clothing looked. And how expensive and nice Scott's was.
All the times Scott would come to school with freshly wrapped cheeses and
specially made sandwiches rushed through his mind and how Scott always seemed
to have the newest and most expensive clothing. It had never been as apparent
just how rich Scott was until now.
Finally they made it to his friend's home, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The
lawn was freshly trimmed and a dark green. The house itself was three stories
tall and was an impossibly light yellow. Four windows lined up and down and
across three times and the shingles were a dark navy blue. The door was partly
glass and the door knob looked like it was made of gold.
"Oh my god Scott. Your house…" Scott looked over at his friend shyly, slightly
embarrassed at how wealthy he looked. He knew that Harry had next to nothing,
even though his family was strictly middle-class. It just didn't feel right
showing off like this. But before they could turn back, the glass door shot
open and a thin woman with doey brown eyes graced them both with a brilliant
smile.
"Scottie! Where have you been baby? I was worried sick! Your father said not to
call the police and of course I listened, but secretly I was scared you had
gotten kidnapped or something! But you're alright and that's all that matters
and-wait, who's that Scottie?"
The gentle-looking woman stopped running her hands over her apron nervously and
set her deep chocolate brown eyes upon Harry, who squirmed and ran a thin hand
through his dirty black hair. Her face showed her surprise at the sight of the
small boy and she rushed them both in, mumbling words neither could decipher.
"Scottie, run and get mummy's first aid kit from the kitchen. Don't dally
baby, now!" Scott ran quickly, cursing both himself and Harry for not thinking
of cleaning Harry's injuries at all. Of course his mum would notice! He came
back to see his mother fretting over Harry, her tan hands petting him kindly.
He first felt a burst of jealousy, Harry was his friend, but when he saw the
awe and happy-filled expression on his best friend's face it was all blown away
as fast as it appeared.
It shocked him at the epiphany he had just then, realizing that even though
his...dad was awful and mean and just terrible...at least he had someone to hug
him at night. Harry...Harry had no one.
"Thank you baby. Now after I take care of this young man we're going to have a
nice long talk about what exactly happened. You understand?" And Scott nodded
sharply, not caring in the slightest. Because he was coming.
===============================================================================
Harry had never been happier. Besides in the dreams he had of course.
But those weren't even real.
This though, this was real.
While her hand ran through his hair and made shivers rush down his spine he
pretended that this was his life. That when he got hurt his mummy would pet his
hair and whisper sweet words meant to calm and soothe. He knew that
he'd never forget this. And when she carried him to the bathroom and washed his
face with soap and water, her calming words never stopping, he knew that the
dreams didn't matter anymore.
Now he had something real.
===============================================================================
He was big. The biggest man he had ever seen.
He wasn't fat or anything, far from it actually. Every appendage seemed to
throb and constantly flex, the muscles underneath squirming like snakes. His
face was rough, his jawline sharp and nose long. Unlike Scott's mum, who was
soft like a cloud, all smiles and gentleness, this man was hard.
Unforgiving.
The man seemed to be trying to hide it though. He smiled just like the mum,
completely kind and charming. But Harry knew something was...wrong.Something
not quite right about him. At least deep down he knew. On the surface...he was
completely deceived. As children are apt to be.
"So Scott. Who's this young man you decided to bring home tonight out of the
blue? Haven't we talked about asking permission?" The man's smile didn't
sharpen, no matter how threatening the words sounded. They were perfectly
calm, patient. Harry didn't feel the tension in the room.
"My name's Harry Potter Mr. Washer sir. Scott and me have been friends
for ages. We decided it would be fun to spend the night together; if that's
alright with you of course sir." Harry smiled brightly, hoping his words would
keep Scott out of trouble. He had assumed Scott's parents were like Vernon and
Petunia. But they weren't. They actually cared for Scott of all things!
Harry couldn't help but think of how Scott never came to school with bruises or
anything. What if-what if he had just been exaggerating? Harry didn't fault him
for it of course...but some kids thought a smack on the hand for a wrong was
abuse. What if Scott thought that too?
Harry never thought that maybe Scott's father was just a bit more clever than
Vernon, clever enough to keep all bruises under clothes.
"What a lovely name. However, I can't seem to remember any Potter's around
here..."
"Oh! Yeah, I live with my Aunt and Uncle. Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They live
a ways down Privet Drive." The man's smile never changed, but his eyes
brightened. For what reason, Harry didn't know.
"I see. And do they know where you are now Harry?" Beside him Scott squirmed
and his best friend's mother seemed oddly silent, her small hands twitching
nervously every so often.
Yet again, Harry remained oblivious. He was just happy to have
someone care. Care enough to look solely at him and ask for his name without
sneering or glaring. It was new. And irresistable.
"Oh, they don't care for me much. I'll be punished for not being there in the
morning to make breakfast, but that's okay. Vernon didn't want me around for
awhile anyway." Harry didn't know what caused him to say all this. Usually he
would never tell anyone about his family. He hadn't told Scott until after
almost an entire year of friendship, and even then it was only after he told
him he was hurting just like him.
At this realization he closed up, fearing the worst. How could he be
so stupid?! Why would Scott lie about his family? About his daddy? Scott
would never lie about something like that. And he wouldn't exaggerate either!
But all these thoughts were blown away when the man's eyes softened, bright
blue just like Scott's- just like that bedroom- and he took his hands, his
callouses rubbing reassuringly against his own soft palms.
"It's okay Harry. You can stay here as long as you want." And his smile was
so nice and perfect that Harry didn't question the man again.
Scott grimaced beside him.
===============================================================================
That night was the best of Harry's life.
Scott and Harry went up to his room on the top floor and it was awesome. It was
huge and the bed was super soft and comfy, the blankets fluffy and silky under
his fingers. The walls were a brilliant teal- my favorite color, remember
Harry?- and the floors had carpet and were so soft.
Everything was soft and warm, so unlike the cold and hard of his cupboard.
So unlike his life.
And for now he could escape, pretend that Scott was his big brother and they
shared this room and it was his parents that were downstairs making dinner, a
dinner he didn't have to make for once! It was all
so perfect and wonderful that half the time he was there he felt like bursting
into tears.
"Hey Harry, it's your turn." And when Harry rolled the dice and moved five
spaces forward and landed in jail, he didn't realize how ironic that move would
seem in just a few hours.
===============================================================================
"Harry, Scott. Would you mind coming downstairs with me for a bit?" Scott's
gigantic father, a man he now knew to be named Charles, motioned slightly at
Harry and Scott, who were both looking through their movie selection.
"Oh, we were just about to watch a movie…" Scott mumbled, glancing between his
mother and Harry quickly. Eventually his gaze stuck on his mother.
"Charles, why can't this wait until la-"
"Because I said now Rose." His voice was oddly cold, a way Harry had never
heard the man talk before. His blue eyes were blazing, and Scott's mother
backed down quickly, rubbing her hands up and down the apron she still wore
from earlier when making cookies.
"And Scott, you would do well to remember not to question me. All because we
have a guest doesn't mean you have an excuse to forget our lessons. Am Iclear?"
Scott nodded hurriedly, and so did Scott's mother oddly enough.
The man then turned to Harry, all previous coldness gone as if it had never
existed.
"Sorry about that Harry. Now, would you mind coming with me? Unlike my son you
seem to be polite and respectful of your elders."
Charles sent a meaningful glance at Scott who shuddered and closed in on
himself, but Harry didn't notice. All he could think was that an adult thought
well of him. Liked him even. And Harry couldn't help but think that
Scott had been pretty rude to Mr. Washer. If he had a dad like him
he'd never talk back! So Harry hopped up and reached out for Scott, a smile
firmly planted on his face.
"Come on Scott, I'm sure it won't take long." But Scott knew, and shuddered
again as he took Harry's hand.
===============================================================================
"So boys, I would like to play a game. Scott's very familiar with it, but I
doubt you've played Harry. You want to know the rules?" After Harry had grabbed
Scott's hand, Mr. Washer had led them down to the basement, a soft humming
coming from him the only sound that was made the entire walk down.
Harry repeatedly gripped Scott's shoulder, sending him encouraging looks all
the while. He didn't completely believe Scott had exaggerated. Adults did that
all the time to him, just because Vernon and Petunia could be kind and charming
when need be. But that didn't mean he wasn't sceptical. Scott's mum was super
nice either way, to both him and Scott. Petunia wouldn't fake that much
kindness even if the bloody Queen herself stopped by.
So his mum must be alright. And if she was alright, why on earth would she
allow Scott to be hurt so much? She had to know something of it, so Harry was
firm in his belief that Scott's abuse wasn't as bad as he had made it out to
be. It was only logical right? Now, Scott shivered slightly beside him, lower
lip quivering and eyes skating between the door and their interlocked hands.
Harry held Scott's hand in a way he hoped was reassuring and grinned up at Mr.
Washer, excited and interested at this new game he had never played. Was it
like the card games Vernon played with his friends? Would Harry be invited to
play a grown- up game?!
"Of course sir! What are we gonna play?" Mr. Washer smiled brightly at Harry's
grin and big eyes and couldn't believe his luck.
The first friend he brings by and he's perfect.
Harry didn't notice the predatorial gleam Scott's father's eyes took on.
"Well, it's very simple. We're going to play out a scene from one of my
favorite shows. It's a grown up show so I doubt you've seen it." Harry's mouth
closed when his question was immediately answered, and nodded slightly in
thought.
"Okay, so what are our roles? Oh, can I be a knight? I've always wanted to be a
knight cause they save princesses and are so cool-"
"Harry!" Harry's mouth shut with a loud Cling! in the room, his eyes wide and
filling with fear. His yell...it had been scary. The man's eyes softened
immediately after and he bent down on one knee, kind blue eyes sought Harry's
own green.
"Harry." He almost refused to look the man in the eye, but then he gripped his
chin and forced him to look, his face just a bit too close for comfort.
"I'm sorry I had to yell, but this is my game remember? I make the rules. Are
you really going to make me quit my game for yours? That seems a bit rude…"
Harry couldn't believe what he had done.
This man, this adult, had actually decided to play a game with him and
he had to make it all about him. It was so rude. Vernon would have punished him
already for sure. But not this man, not Charles.
"S-sorry Mr. Washer. I-I didn't m-mean to be selfish. We can play your game."
Mr. Washer gave him a thousand watt smile and gripped him into a tight hug, his
hand running up and down Harry's back.
"No worries Harry. I know you were just excited." Charles stood up after that
and while Harry was distracted by the utter warmth surrounding him still
because that was the first hug any adult had ever given him and he couldn't- he
just couldn't handle it, Mr. Washer sent a look at Scott, who had kept his head
down the entire time.
"Scott, we're going to play Bobbies and Thugs. We haven't played that one for
awhile have we?" Scott's eyes widened to unimaginable proportions at that and
glanced at Harry quickly, not believing his ears.
Bobbies and Thugs? But...but we can't play that unless...And Scott knew this
would be the worst day of his life.
===============================================================================
"Alright Harry, sense you're new to the game we'll let Scott start okay? If you
don't like it, remember-you can ask to stop at any time. Alright?" Mr. Washer
was still on his knees, calm blue eyes staring straight into his own. Harry
could feel his lips pull into another grin and he nodded rapidly, head going so
fast his chin butted against his chest.
"Of course Mr. Washer sir. Just tell me what to do." The man's grin sharpened
and he stood up quickly, walking over to the small cage within the room.
"Bobbies and Thugs is just what it sounds like. You and Scott are going to be
the thugs while I'm the bobby okay?" Harry nodded again, excited to get
started. He wondered what all they would do. Maybe he and Scott would have to
try to escape?
"Now, I want both of you to get into the cage." Harry easily walked over to the
cell, pulling the very not eager Scott along with him.
"Why you putting up such a fuss Scott? We'll just play this game real quick
then go to sleep. You know he won't try anything with me here. You'll always be
safe with me." Harry whispered.
Scott rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes becoming suspiciously
wet. At that Harry stopped him, thoughts no longer on pleasing one of
the onlyadults who actually liked him.
"Hey, you okay? Seriously Scott, don't worry. I won't let anything happen to
you. Pinkie promise." Scott's eyes lifted to Harry's and his grimace turned
into a small smile.
"Okay Harry. I trust you." And Harry then continued pulling Scott to the cage,
knowing in his heart that if anything did happen, Harry would take the brunt of
it.
No matter what.
"Alright boys. Since I'm the bobby, you have to do everything I say. You've
both done some nasty things, so you have to be punished. Understand?"
So far Harry didn't really understand the point of this game. There were two
itty bitty cots within the cage and a couple of weird holes through the bars.
There was no way they could escape unless they had the key...so Harry didn't
really see the point. To be honest he was pretty bored and just wanted to watch
a movie with Scott. Adults were just...weird.
"Now, my first order is for you to take your clothes off."
Harry had been counting the tiles on the ceiling, thoughts on whether he wanted
to watch E.T, which Scott promised was beyond awesome, or Ghostbusters when he
heard Mr. Washer say what he said. His head moved toward the man's face so fast
he thought he might have whiplash.
"Ex-excuse me sir? What did you say?" Mr. Washer's eyes were kind, but the
inflection on his voice wasn't.
"I said for you both to take off your clothes. I'm an officer of the law
and command it! I need to do a strip search. Who knows what naughty things you
pair of troublemakers may be hiding." The man's booming voice made him flinch,
and beside him Scott's eyes were wide and fearful. Harry decided
he really didn't want to play anymore.
"Sir...I don't think me and Scott want to play anymore. Thanks for letting us
but-"
"What did you just say?" Harry couldn't help but gulp audibly and he rubbed his
left arm nervously while looking away from the man who was now kneeling right
outside the cage.
"I-I said we don't want to play anymore." Mr. Washer's face abruptly changed,
the pleasantness and kindness now so far from view Harry couldn't understand
how they were there in the first place.
"Well I don't fucking care what you want boy. I said take off your clothes. Or
do you want me to come in there and make you, prisoner?" At the look on his
face and the words and spittle flying from his mouth Harry rushed to comply,
hands shaking while he tore off the large shirt from his small frame. Once both
he and Scott were down to their knickers his face became calm again and a sweet
smile appeared on his face.
"Good, good. Prisoners who do what they're told get special treatment. Bad ones
get punished. Is that understood?" Both the small, quivering boys nodded, eyes
wide and frightened. Harry looked over at Scott, not understanding at all what
was going on.
Why would Mr. Washer want them to take off their clothes? Vernon never did that
when he punished Harry. Was this...was this the 'night time' stuff Scott hated
to talk about? When Harry saw the returned quiver of Scott's lips and the tear
streak down his cheek Harry's own fear was banished in favor of the cold anger
that rose within Harry's chest.
I'll protect you Scott. No matter what.
"Now Scott, I want you to take Harry and touch him a bit. He's been such
a good boy that I think he deserves it. Don't you?" At Scott's shocked look his
father's grin sharpened, eyes shining evilly.
"Or I can give him a special treat. Makes no difference to me." Scott raced
over to Harry at that, small hands hesitantly coming to run through Harry's
ink-black curls.
"That's it Scott. Now touch his neck and chest." Harry squirmed a bit at the
feel of Scott's hands, not used to such an intimate touch. At Scott's shy look
Harry tried to smile, to help make him feel better. It seemed that Mr. Washer
took that look the wrong way.
"You like that do you Harry? I knew it by the sight of you. How you'd just
be begging for it by the end. Go ahead and kiss him Scott. I know both of you
littlefaggots would like that." Harry's eyes widened, not understanding why
Scott's father was doing this.
Why would he want Scott and him...to-to kiss of all things. He'd never done
anything like that before. Harry watched Scott swallow nervously, his tongue
coming out to wet his lips. Harry cocked his head to the side, now curious as
to what a kiss would be like. They always said girls had cooties, but did boys
have them to? No one ever said so besides girls, but you couldn't trust them
anyway. They liked to play with dolls of all things!
He and Scott were so close that Harry could count the number of lashes he had,
and the little white flecks he had within his blue eyes. He looked towards his
lips again, and pinched his own, now slightly scared because what if he
really did become a faggot? Harry wasn't really sure what one was, but he knew
they were really girly and liked to prance in a really silly way and Harry
didn't want to be girly like everyone said he was and-Scott's lips were on his.
It felt really weird. It was kind of nice, so Harry understood why people may
like to do it, but it wasn't anything special. They pulled apart soon after and
Harry opened up his eyes- And when did I close them anyway?
Scott smiled a little at him, a blush dusting his cheeks and suddenly the
realization that he had just kissed Scott became so much more real and he knew
that his whole face if not his entire body was beet red right now.
"Good. Very nice you two. You looked so sweet together. So cute. Now Scott, I
want you to take Harry's knickers off."
===============================================================================
It went on for an hour or two.
Harry and Scott were...made to do things together, things Harry didn't
understand and had never heard of and they hurt. Scott cried when he hurt
Harry, and that's what got to Harry the most. Harry had never seen Scott cry
before. He was always the tough one. The strong one. And now Harry had to be
strong. But when it happened again he really didn't know how to be.
"You boys have been so good. So good. So good that I might just go in there
with you. How'd you feel about that?"
Harry had slowly but surely realized how much worse Scott's situation was. All
because of him. He was a monster.
While he and Scott had...done what he asked, he had filmed them of all things
and...touched himself there. Harry didn't know why he'd do that, and frankly he
didn't want to know. All he knew was that if he got anywhere near him he was
going to freak out. He didn't even want to think about what he might want to do
to him, to either of them.
I'll protect you Scott. No matter what. And he would.
So when he got near the cage, those blue eyes sparkling just like Scott's he
couldn't control the blast of energy that threw him into the wall, knocking him
out cold. Or so he thought.
Blood poured down...
down...
down until it seemed like a small river connected from the cage to Mr. Washer's
head.
Harry's hands reached up to cover his mouth, disbelieving of what he might have
just done.
"Scott! Oh my God I think-"
"It doesn't matter. He's gone, we don't have to worry, we're done-"
And when Harry gripped Scott into a tight hug all thoughts of his previous
activities were blocked away, hopefully never to be remembered again.
===============================================================================
"Honey? I-I don't mean to rush or anything, you take as long as you need, but
it's getting pretty late and you have work in the morning…" At the sound of
Scott's mother's warm voice Harry visibly brightened.
They had been stuck down here for nearly two hours. The smell of blood had
become completely overwhelming.
As she stepped down the stairs her smile dimmed and a scream forced its way
past her lips.
"Oh my God!" She ran over to Mr. Washer's prone body, tears streaming down her
pale cheeks.
A mantra of Oh my God, Jesus Christ, Oh my God, Jesus Christ,
OhmyGodJesusChrist was repeated over and over under her breath while she
pressed two delicate fingers against her husband's throat. All was silent for a
few moments and Harry covered his eyes and bit his lip while he waited for the
verdict. The harsh gasp that escaped her told him everything he needed to know
and the harsh sob that escaped him couldn't have been stopped even if he had
the ability to think at the moment.
She slowly stood back up, blood coating her hands and making her steps end with
a slight Scrrrrchh sound. It was sickening. She finally stopped in front of the
cell, eyes big and brown and wet.
"W-what happened baby? What happened to Daddy?" Harry continued to cover his
eyes, curled up into a ball on the floor, harsh sobs escaping his mouth.
"H-he did h-his usual, and Harry got scared and-and he threw him at the w-wall
and he never got up." Scott's voice was thick and he swallowed after his
speech, shock running through him. His dad was...dead. And to be honest, he
really wasn't that sad about it. He refused to confront the utter relief he
felt though. It was too much. His mum's gaze traveled over to Harry, anger
lighting up the usual soft brown.
"Y-you killed my husband. Nonononono this can't-You killed him!" She ran her
hands through her hair shakily and gripped it, pulling out a few chunks while
she breathed heavily. Then she started laughing.
"Oh what am I going to do? Charles is gone...and if they find out what
happened- oh well I'll go to jail won't I? For knowing? Well that just
won't do will it. I have to protect him. Can't let word get out oh no. Charles
wouldn't want that no he wouldn't. Yes, I'll do what he'd want. All for
Charlie, all for Charles…" Her wild eyes turned on them, biting her lip so hard
it bled. And Scott knew. He knew what she'd try to do.
"Don't you try comin' in here mum! Harry will get you j-...just like he got
dad!" Scott screamed, knuckles white and tight by his sides. And she stopped,
the feral look never leaving her face, while a grin graced it as well.
"Fine. I'll just leave you in there." And her hands went back to her hair and
teeth once again gnawing at her lips while she lifted up her husband's body,
all the while mumbling- All for Charles...All for Charles...AllforCharles….
===============================================================================
It had been over six days. Not that they knew of course. It could have been
longer-or shorter. Who knew anymore? They sure didn't. Scott's mum hadn't been
back since then, but during the first night they heard sounds.
Of the chainsaw. And sobbing.
Harsh sobs and thuds every couple hours.
After that night they hadn't heard anything.
The first couple days had been the worst. The constant ache in their bellies
and the dryness of their mouths. Now though...now it was like they were half-
asleep all the time. Like they were never fully awake. Harry tried to stay
up...but it was hard. And when they were asleep it didn't hurt as bad...
It had been worse for Scott.
He had drained faster than Harry. Scott said it was just because Harry was
smaller, but he knew better. His freaky abilities had come to save the day!
Harry couldn't help but wonder -why couldn't they open up the door?
"H-Harry? You 'right?" Scott's voice was throaty, but soft. Not even above a
whisper. It sounded much too loud to Harry.
"Yeah. 'M good. You?" Harry dared to move over a bit and hated himself
afterward for it. He had been trying to save his energy, but wanting to look
someone in the face while he talked to them was an old habit. And he also
wanted- needed to see Scott. His friend.
"N-not s'good. I-I feel real cold Harry." Scott's cheeks were sunken in, his
eyes slightly yellow. Harry knew this wasn't good, but he didn't know what to
do. What could he do?
"H-Harry. I-I don' think I'm gonna make it." At that Harry gasped, the...the
idea of that never crossing his mind. Th-They were kids. That couldn't happen
to kids, could it?
"Ha, real funny Scott. Kids can't...die. It don't happen." Harry's words were
slightly slurred, but his mind was clear. And it was freaking out. Scott shook
his head, and from the wince on his face he knew how much that simple movement
must have taken out of him.
"Har, you don't understand. I-'M dyin'." And the tears Scott released made
everything so much more real to Harry. This was real life. He wasn't in one of
his fairy tales. They weren't damsels in distress and no shining knight was
coming for them. This was...it.
"Nonono Scott you'll be fine. We're both gonna be a-okay. We're gonna get out
of 'ere and we'll run away together, just you and me-"
"Harry." And his rambling quit, eyes no longer bright with fantasies. The
strict tone abruptly faded from Scott's voice and it cracked and Harry didn't
know how it was possible to feel this bad.
"'M scared. I-I don' wanna die Har." His sobs continued, but light soon started
shining through the window and Harry saw that Scott hadn't even been able to
form tears. Harry's face hardened and he scooted over, but was only able to get
near enough to grip Scott in a half-hug, not strong enough to get any closer.
"Shhh. It's okay Scott. You're not gonna die. See, we're gonna get
far, far away from here and we're gonna run all the way to the countryside, you
hear? And we're gonna plant a great big Willow tree and sit under it every
night and watch the stars. And every morning we'll play games together-and we
won't be bullied and hurt anymore. It'll just be you and me, Scott and Harry
forever and ever."
Harry tightened his grip even though it hurt to even breathe but he did it for
Scott. His knight in shining armor. His best friend in the whole wide world.
"Y-you really think so Har? Forever and ever?"
He planted a kiss of Scott's head and whispered, "Yup. Forever and-"
And Scott stopped breathing.
===============================================================================
It was just two days later that the police finally investigated on the
disappearance of Harry Potter and Scott Washer. Both families had called the
boys in sick, but after an entire week off school for both of them their school
became suspicious.
First they visited the Dursley's when their son Dudley mentioned that he hadn't
"seen the ugly freak in over a week". They had found no trace of him.
When asked where his room was the Dursley's pointed to the second bedroom,
which didn't even have a bed within it. Just mounds of broken toys. Both had
been brought in for suspicion of child abuse. But that hadn't even been the
beginning.
Since the school had reported Scott and Harry as being close friends for years,
they thought that maybe the Washer boy would have thoughts on where young Harry
may have run off to. When they found the home completely empty they became
increasingly suspicious- and worried. They searched the whole home and
eventually came to the basement, and what they found haunted the minds of many
of the officers who laid their eyes upon it.
In the middle of the dark, cool room lay a small cage. And within it were two
small boys. Around the cage lay puddles of fecal matter and urine. And in the
corner were clear signs of dry blood.
The officers automatically went to release both boys, but what they saw up
close was even more disturbing than what they found at first glance. The larger
boy was obviously dead, blue eyes clear, chest unnaturally still. Part of his
arm was missing, and when they saw the blood on the other boy's face they knew
why.
No one spoke as haunted green eyes pierced through each of them, gaze utterly
empty.
===============================================================================
Harry didn't remember much of what happened. There were...flashes and the
doctors said he had just forgotten to protect himself. If what he saw in the
flashes weren't even the worst of it...well, Harry never wanted to remember.
He distinctly remembered a Crunch! and Splat! but no visions accompanied the
image. And he remembered Scott. He remembered him...dying. And he remembered
what happened after.
He didn't tell the doctors he remembered that though. To be honest, he wished
he had forgotten that too. He had been immediately sent to the hospital after
being rescued, but after a few weeks the questions were bound to come, and now
they had.
"How long were you in there?"
"Who trapped you?"
"How did Mr. Washer die?"
"Were you abused by the Dursley's?"
He didn't answer though, and when the nurses and doctors saw him being pestered
they were waved away, like annoying birds pecking around you when you were just
planning on having a nice sit down in the park.
Stupid birds…
Right now Harry was sitting in the hallway of the police station. They had to
get the full story some time, and since he was the only witness...well, he
didn't have any doctors or nurses to protect him now.
Harry knew they weren't going to have much luck though. He hadn't talked in
almost a month, and he wasn't going to start blabbing now, even in they stuffed
him in a room with colors of bright green and pink with a huge, smiling sun
right in the middle. Nope. No words coming from this mouth. Or so he thought.
"Hey kid, what's got you lookn' all sorry and blue?"
They had put him back in the hallway again after he had vomited in the little
kid's room. He had seen blue. That blue. He didn't answer the man, but he did
look at him. He was tall and thin, almost skeletal. But his face was warm and
kind, with a shock of bright white hair framing it. His skin was a regular
caucasian color, but the whiteness of his hair made him look tan. And his
eyes...the darkest grey he had ever seen.
He looked crazy in his cream-colored suit and fedora, but Harry couldn't help
but think the look...suited him in a way.
"What, too good to answer a random man's questions? Youngins these days are
just gettn' ruder and ruder." Harry glanced back up at the man, honestly amused
for the first time sense the...incidents. Harry felt like it was a betrayal.
"I'm not the rude one." And he walked away.
===============================================================================
"Hey, come on kid. You can't just keep on avoiding me. Like ya do with all your
problems."
It had been almost three months since the incident. He had been put into your
standard orphanage after the police realized he would never talk about what
happened. And his therapists weren't getting into his head either. He wouldn't
allow it.
"Quit bothering me. Never knew a perv to be so determined." Harry hadn't talked
to anyone else besides this man. He honestly didn't know why he even gave him
the time of day. But he did, and that's all that mattered.
"Well, you see...I'm not actually a pervert. Who woulda guessed it?" Harry
looked at the man and noticed that his outfit had never changed from the white
suit and equally white fedora since they had first met. And he walked away.
===============================================================================
"You know, I don't even know your name." Harry still lived at the orphanage and
the man had still come to visit him every day. Their conversations were never
long, and always superficial, but somehow they made Harry feel...better. And
Harry decided he liked this man.
"Eh, what's to a name anyway? Just like masks they come and go, easily changed
and meaningless. My name doesn't define me. Does yours?" Harry glanced down at
himself, plain brown slacks and white shirt, skinny arms and knobbly knees.
He knew who Harry Potter was. And it wasn't this boy.
This boy with the clothes that actually fit him and skin free of bruises. Heart
empty of hope. Mind free of fear and happiness. No, he wasn't Harry Potter
anymore. He hadn't been Harry since Scott died in his arms.
But he knew this man in white was wrong. Names did define you. Names were who
you were. Who he was just happened to die within that cage. Now though...who
was he? The man gripped his arm, a sharp grin on his tan face.
"If you must know the name's Gliese. Gliese White. What's yours kid?" The man
in white was right in one way though. Masks and names were similar. And
this new him... The one that was Harry but not, well...he could have as many as
he wanted. And he knew exactly where he wanted to start.
"I'm Scott. Scott Washer."
===============================================================================
It had been an accident. The flame was just so pretty and bright that he had
lost control.
If the butterfly had just stayed over there… Well, it was too late now. The
sucker was turning to ash, the flame eating away at it's beautiful wings while
he frantically moved them back and forth, either desperately trying to put the
flame out, or unaware of what was happening and just reacting on instinct.
Either way he was going to fail.
And either way, Harry was getting the high of his life watching it suffer.
===============================================================================
"What are you doing Scott?" Harry was playing his favorite game.
Ever since that day with the fire Harry had been entranced. This...ache in his
gut would form and he knew it was time. Time to play. So far squirrels had been
the most fun, but they were impossible to catch, so he had sufficed with cats.
At least they were easy to skin.
If he made the first cut just right...it was just perfect. He could just
pull all the skin off in one pull and sometimes they cats even lived for the
whole removal. It had only happened once though. Harry was determined to make
it happen a second.
"I repeat. What on God's green Earth are you up to boy?" Harry glanced down at
his hands, the red red red speaking to him on a level nothing ever had before.
This...power. This power made the nightmares stop. The fear and hate. And it
was intoxicating.
"I'm playing. What does it look like I'm doing?" Gliese sighed and gripped
Harry's hands, the hold on his knife being changed subtly.
"You can't cut them up like that. I swear boy, if your gonna do something at
least do it right." And the grin Harry's face grew into was nothing short of
animalistic.
===============================================================================
The day Harry woke up without him was just like any other.
It had been three years. Three long years full of magic and games most would
view as...wrong. Harry didn't really care though. He liked to kills things. And
he liked Gliese.
That was about it.
After Gliese had done a ritual to make Harry his real son...his like may have
just turned to love. And Harry had a feeling that's why he left.
There was no note, and none of his stuff had been brought with him. But Harry
knew.
He knew he was gone and there was no coming back.
The screams and cries that ripped through him like a million tiny white hot
daggers came later. Now...he was calm. And cold.
He left their small apartment, bringing nothing but his wand with him. And with
a scream he lit the place on fire.
And he laughed.
Chapter End Notes
     WARNINGS: Child abuse, pedophilia, forced sexual relations between
     children, manipulation from an adult (somehow I find this really
     creepy and in need of a warning), psychotic musings from a child's
     perspective, killing of animals, cannibalism, main character FOR THIS
     CHAPTER death, starvation/dehydration of children, etc. Think I got
     everything. I think even if I didn't you got the point. :D
     ...Yup. That's PART of Harry's past. Of course, this ends when he's
     about 11 by the end of this. ...What happens between 11 and 16? :
     D Btw: sorry that I don't have many scenes with Gliese. He's actually
     going to be IN the story, so we'll have flashbacks. Also, this
     explains why Harry doesn't look like Harry. Don't know if you caught
     that, but they did a blood adoption ritual. I started out canon, and
     I don't like making Harry extremely attractive without reason. So
     there's my reason. :D His "dad" is hot. If you have any questions
     about how I did this, don't be afraid to ask. I LIVE to fix plot
     holes. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter
     shouldn't be quite as long...but key things will continue to happen
     for the rest of the story, so they'll take a lot more time and
     effort. So, updates will be slow, but know that I'm working on them
     all the time!
     Btw: did anyone catch Harry's way of remembering Scott in real time?
     Remember me describing Harry's house. Of course, you have no idea if
     him doing that was voluntary or not.
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