Much to his displeasure, Harry is thrown back through time into his six year old body. As a result, Harry decides to contort the timeline, purely for his own amusement.
All Harry Potter could see was complete and utter darkness after being struck by the Killing Curse the second he disapparated. He did not dare open his eyes, but one thing was certain, he was still alive, if one could call it that in his condition. It would not be a shock if his body was splattered all over time and space or worse, he could have been sent back in time once again.
Harry could feel his arms and legs, always a good sign, even though there was unbearable pain shooting through them. Voldemort had done quite the number on him and Harry’s eyes flickered open slightly. Amazingly he wasn’t splinched and he came very close to his destination. Crawling down the stone pathway, drops of blood splashed to the ground, as Harry looked around, to confirm that he had in fact landed outside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place as intended.
“Kreacher, out now!” rasped Harry, hoping the hated house elf in the Black family was able to here him and it was of utmost importance that he got inside.
“The traitorous master’s godson call for Kreacher?” asked Kreacher.
“Yes, I did you dumbshit elf!” snapped Harry angrily. “Get me inside now, and make it snappy.”
“As young master wishes,” replied Kreacher as he transported Harry inside the Black ancestral home. The home didn’t hold its grimness that he did in the other timeline, after Harry had it painted with bright and vibrant colors, before he filled it with Muggle electronics. Harry didn’t have much of a use for many of the things he had in the house, but he relished the opportunity to cause Sirius’s mother to have a fit by all the Muggle things he was bring in.
Harry was sat down on a couch in the living room and Kreacher looked at Harry.
“Young master might want to get himself to a hospital,” muttered Kreacher but Harry just ignored him.
“DOBBY!” yelled Harry and Dobby the house elf appeared, but his usual jovial expression left his face when he saw the state.
“What has happened to Harry Potter sir?” inquired Dobby. “Dobby must insist that sir be brought to St. Mungos to see a healer.”
“That would be good Dobby, just needed to clear my head for a few more minutes, before being transported again,” replied Harry. “If you could get me to St. Mungos Dobby and then inform the others that I will fill him in after I’m safely there.”
“As sir wishes,” answered Dobby before the house elf transported his master to St. Mungos, so he could reveal the proper healing from the trained healers at St. Mungos.
“Kreacher just suggested that,” muttered Kreacher under his breath. “Sometimes I wish that someone would just get it over with and decapitate Kreacher, but Kreacher will have to cut himself some more until that happens.”
With that, Kreacher made his way upstairs, to continue to cut his wrists with a razor blade because of his poor, dearly departed mistress.
Reginald Weaver, the Minister of Magic, wondered why he even campaigned for the position. His intention was to increase the manpower of the Auror Department, who was the most under funded department in the Ministry. Yet, the Wizengamot had refused to endorse two acts that would step up the Auror recruitment efforts and pour more money in the department. It became even clearer to Weaver that the inmates were in fact running the asylum at the Ministry and the Minister was only as effective as how much arse he or she kissed. There were sanctions in place to prevent the wide spread sacking of long term Ministry employees, many of which who were part of the problem. And sadly, he did not have the political capital to get rid of that many influential people. The sharks that infested the Ministry would sense what he was doing and swarm in for the attack, ending his career before it had go too far. Sadly, Weaver concluded he would have to play an extremely political game if he wanted to get even moderate reforms in the Auror Department, which was contrary to his direct
“Enter,” said Weaver in a clipped voice as he heard someone knocking on his door and one of his very frantic looking aides entered the office. “Yes, Morgan, what is it?”
“Minister, Harry Potter, you know the Boy-Who-Lived, well word has it he’s been taken to St. Mungos,” replied Morgan quickly. “He’s not in good shape at all…”
“Did anyone tell you what happened?” asked Weaver in a business like tone of voice.
“No, he refuses to say anything, he seems rather shaken up, they are doing the best to treat his injuries, but he’ll survive,” replied Morgan.
“Good,” remarked Weaver, as he would have to deal with the boy’s infamous guardian, Barone, who had a record of making mince meat out of Ministry officials. “Get Bones and tell her to meet me in the atrium in fifteen minutes. She might want to question the boy herself, as this may be a situation of grave concern that the entire Ministry must know about to protect the magical people of Britain.”
Several hours later, Harry Potter was in fact on the road of recovery. Thanks to the vast amount of gold he had, he could afford to pay for the best and most prompt medical care that St. Mungos had to offer. Most of the damage was fixed, but still Harry was a little battered and beaten from the assault by Lord Voldemort. A few of Harry’s injuries would have to heal naturally, but for the most part, he was in a lot better shape than he was when first showed up at the hospital so that was counted as a victory.
A healer entered Harry’s room at that moment, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Mr. Potter, there are some visitors for you waiting outside, but I’ll tell them to wait if you aren’t up to visiting them,” informed the healer.
“No, please, I need company,” answered Harry and the healer stepped back to allow, Sirius, Remus, and Hermione to enter the room. All of them were looking at Harry with various states of irritation, and Hermione stood there with her hands on her hips, biting her lip, Harry just knew she had a rant on the tip of her tongue, but was keeping it in, out of respect for the other patients. “Hi.”
“Don’t you dare hi me, Harry Potter?” hissed Hermione. “After what you’ve been through I would hope you wouldn’t be so reckless, I thought you would know better. What were you thinking?”
“Actually Hermione that’s a good question and the correct answer would be absolutely nothing,” replied Harry. “The fact remains I wasn’t really expecting to step out the door and nearly get killed by Voldemort today. I knew the day was coming but I didn’t think it would be this soon.”
“Thanks to some petty revenge that I don’t even know why you were getting revenge, you nearly got yourself killed,” ranted Hermione. “By Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard of all time, and look at you, you look like you’ve got hit by a bus, a train, and then got a building dropped on you.”
“Feel like it to, actually,” muttered Harry. “Surviving the Killing Curse again does do that to you but believe me I looked and felt a heck of a lot worse once I got away from Lord Voldemort.”
“That inspires me with a great deal of hope,” replied Hermione sarcastically but she stopped. “What do you mean you survived the Killing Curse again?”
“Voldemort sent the spell at me in an attempt to put me six feet under because he’s Lord Voldemort,” respond Harry before he whispered in an undertone. “Also, he didn’t think I was Harry Potter because I was way to mature. He thought I was a decoy planted by Barone and I can’t really say much more about what else happened here, as the walls do have ears.”
“Well to be fair, it’s not like you act like a child most of the time,” said Remus, breaking the silence
“Can’t act like something that well since I’ve been one year old,” said Harry and the room went silent. “Still, my condition could be a lot worse.”
“How?” demanded Hermione.
“I could be dead,” replied Harry in a dismissive voice and Hermione sputtered, unable to think quickly enough to formulate a response.
“Well Hermione he does have a point,” said Sirius calmly.
“Be serious for a minute please,” said Remus and Sirius opened his mouth. “Don’t you dare even say it, that joke was old about ten minutes into our first year.”
“Well, Harry is still alive and while I’m not exactly thrilled with his decision to run off with any backup, I believe that he couldn’t have predicted what happened today happening,” said Sirius.
“Yes, I’ve learned my lesson and now I’ve figured out what I must do,” concluded Harry.
“And what would that be Harry?” asked Remus.
“Many have gone up against Voldemort and never recover but I will recover and I’m going after Voldemort when the time is right,” whispered Harry in undertone. “The time won’t be right for a while but now, as I sit here recovering from my grievous injuries, I’m going to keep Voldemort on his toes until it’s time for us to duel again.”
Harry grew silent as he heard approaching footsteps.
“The others wanted to come as well but Professor Flamel wouldn’t allow that many people to leave the school at once,” muttered Hermione. “I should really be getting back soon anyway, since I now know you’re okay, I can tell the others, who are freaking out about you being dead.”
“Yes, go do that,” replied Harry.
“Remus, why don’t you take Hermione back, I’ll come back in a little bit, I need to talk to Harry,” responded Sirius and Remus nodded.
“Bye Hermione, Remus,” voiced Harry as Sirius turned to Harry once they left.
“Okay, exactly what did happen, Harry?” asked Sirius.
“Basically, after I finished Snape, one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters grabbed me, forced me to apparate, I was leapt on by twenty five Death Eaters, Voldemort was resurrected, when had words, some of which he took offense of, I nearly died, and that’s about all the details I can give until we’re in a more secure room,” said Harry without taking a breath.
“Fair enough,” replied Sirius but the footsteps stopped as the healer poked her head in once again.
“Mr. Potter, sorry for disturbing you again, but there are more visitors, the Minister of Magic in fact and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, they both want to speak to you, they are demanding to know what happened” remarked the healer.
“Better get this over with,” remarked Sirius and Harry nodded, adopting the face of a traumatized eleven year old, as the healer stepped back to allow Madam Bones and Minister Weave to enter the room.
“The healer said you wanted to know what happened to me,” replied Harry in a slightly intimidated voice.
“That’s correct,” replied Weaver, who would have rather dealt with the most hardened dark wizards then children. After all, he had to deal with enough juvenile behavior at the Ministry.
“Take your time Harry, no need to rush but we really need to know what happened,” added Madam Bones.
“Well I went for a walk outside the school, to get some fresh air, and a man attacked me,” replied Harry in a shaky voice. “He transported me there, and used my blood in what he said was a ritual that resurrected V-v-v-v-oldemort.”
The two Ministry officials flinched slightly at the sound of Voldemort’s name.
“He’s back,” whispered Madam Bones but Weaver looked at Harry with a slightly skeptical look.
“Even if it isn’t You-Know-Who, even if it is someone posing as him, it’s still a matter of concern, especially the condition the boy was said to show up in when we interviewed the healers,” muttered Weaver. “The Ministry’s not going to like this, but what choice do we have?”
“Harry, could you tell us how you escaped?” asked Madam Bones.
“I’m not sure, I hit my head and a jet of green light was sent at me, the next thing I knew, I was here,” replied Harry, who made sure to shake in terror, as he talked about Voldemort. “I never want to see him, he had slit red eyes, his skin was white, he was creepy.”
“Thank you that will be all,” replied Madam Bones as she joined Weaver in walking off.
“I almost expected him to be a bit more put together, even after what happened, I don’t think Barone had all that much of an influence on him,” muttered Weaver. “You’d think he’d be a bit more hardened.”
“Now, Minister, to be fair, he’s an eleven year old who from all indications just barely survived an encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” replied Bones. “Plus, many might be relieved Mr. Potter isn’t another version of Barone.”
Weaver didn’t answer. As Minister, he had to disapprove of Barone. Personally, he didn’t have a problem with Barone, as the only people he targeted were part of the cancer that infested the Ministry of Magic.
A week later, Harry was cleared to returned to Hogwarts and returned he did, to a barrage of questions about his absence. Harry blew everyone off. Needless to say news about the return of Lord Voldemort reached the Wizarding World. There were many skeptics, but there were also those who were terrified out of their wits. Many of which would had never seen even the glimpse of Voldemort but had family members who had perished either directly or indirectly by his hand. The Ministry was only marginally better than it was the last time around, but if Voldemort gathered enough resources, it was highly probable that they could be eliminated in a matter of hours. Harry was once again in the uneasy position of having to save a world that he only cared slightly about. It was quite lucky that Harry had a personal vendetta against Voldemort, otherwise he would take his friends and his organization to an uncharted island in the Bahamas and basically let Voldemort have a party. It was quite fortunate that Voldemort had attempted to kill Harry yet again and Harry just had to return the favor.
Harry had completed his first year for the second time, and school wise, he thought it had went as well as expected. In fact, other than the Voldemort returning to full power and Umbridge breaking convicts out of Azkaban, it was a rather calm year at Hogwarts. On the train, Harry sat with Blaise, Neville, Hermione, Fred, and George, as they rapidly reached the station at King’s Cross.
“You know, despite the fact I was nervous at first about Hogwarts, I’m really going to miss it for two months,” remarked Neville.
“Yeah, I know we complain about school all the time, but once we leave for the year, it kind of leaves an empty feeling,” replied George.
“Yeah the only people we can prank is our family and let’s face it, they know all of our tricks by now,” said Fred but Harry just sat back, barely talking at all, the moment he left the train, there was some unfinished business to attend to.
“So what are you planning to do this summer, Harry?” asked Blaise.
“Prepare for the next time Voldemort and I meet,” replied Harry calmly, as he paused for the mandatory dance on his grave.
“Well besides that,” amended Blaise.
“Until Voldemort is six feet over and I’m doing a victory dance, there will be time for little else,” said Harry.
“And when do you think that will be anyway?” asked Blaise.
“Unless Voldemort slips in the shower and breaks his neck or some kind of freak accident like that I’m locked into facing Voldemort for quite some time,” concluded Harry in an absolute dismal voice.
“We can only be so lucky,” concluded Blaise, as the others also nodded in agreement before the train went to a stop. “I’ve got to go, Dad really doesn’t like sticking around in public all too long because he’s afraid that someone might do him in. Have a nice summer, everyone and I wouldn’t advise sending anything, Dad’s petrified of the owl post.”
“Better not send me anything either, it won’t be able to find me, as I’ll be on the move no doubt, as I figure my guardian has something in store for me,” added Harry before they all exchanged words of farewell, but Harry had to check in for a quick meeting with his organization to clue them in on future plans, before he went toad hunting.
Dolores Umbridge was in her sitting room, life had not dealt her a favorable set of cards recently and she blamed Barone for disgracing Cornelius. She admitted that Cornelius wasn’t the most able of politicians in most cases, but that was the idea. Umbridge lead a group of Ministry officials who wanted dark creatures wiped off the face of the Earth, no exceptions, and Fudge would have been the perfectly puppet to put their plans slowly into action. Their rights, werewolves especially, would slowly be taken away, provoking a more vicious majority into attacking humans. These widespread attacks would drum up public support to get rid of these filthy beasts once and for all.
Everything was going quite swimmingly, until Barone came into the picture. Quite a few who were tied to Fudge were disgraced but there were many who managed to backtrack their support quickly enough. Dolores was one of the few who lost a lot of political stature with the new regime, as the Ministry was always eager to cover up their tracks when they were grilled by the press. So, Umbridge came up with a dangerous and quite unpredictable plan, freeing three convicts from Azkaban with the express purpose of putting Barone in his place. The plan failed and Umbridge stopped while she was ahead. Unless, an opportunity presented itself, Umbridge just had to keep quiet. It would be foolish to do anything, as so far, she had not been connected to the break out just yet.
“Who is it?” demanded Umbridge to a knock on her door.
“Magical girl scouts, cookies for sale,” said a high pitched girly voice from outside the door.
“Don’t want any,” said Umbridge curtly.
“It’s for a good cause, it raises proceeds to fund the league to stamp out werewolves,” added the voice from outside the door and Umbridge sprang up with glee, at the sound of that. She didn’t even like cookies, but an organization with aims like that was something that she was extremely fond of.
As she opened the door, she found six guns in her chest and her wand knocked out of her hand, as she came face to face with Barone.
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Umbridge but the mobsters violently pushed Umbridge backwards, before they forced her down into a chair and Barone walked in, narrowing his eyes at Umbridge.
“It’s been a long time, Umbridge, could have been much longer, but what are you going to do,” replied Barone. “So, released any prisoners from Azkaban lately?”
“What are you talking about?” inquired Umbridge but that earned her a shop tap on the head with the pimp cane.
“Listen to me, Umbridge, I know you released those three from Azkaban,” remarked Barone, as Umbridge was all to aware that the Muggle weapons were inches away from her face and her wand was out of reach.
“Well, then turn me into the Ministry of Magic, I’ll just be out by tomorrow,” challenged Umbridge but Barone just smirked.
“I warned you not to test me Umbridge and by breaking those three out of Azkaban, putting countless lives in danger I might add, for the simple fact you didn’t get a job because I exposed Fudge to the world, you tested me,” said Barone as he raised a gun to Umbridge’s head. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow your face off, I daresay it might improve your looks even.”
“The Ministry will know you did it, you won’t get away with this,” argued Umbridge. “I suggest you let me go or I’ll…”
“Please Umbridge, you couldn’t beat me if I had one hand tied behind my back and the other hand helping you,” interrupted Barone in a bored voice. “If I just say the world, I could have my men eradicate you right now and believe me, I wouldn’t shed a tear. However, I have a much better idea for you Umbridge.”
Barone waved his wand and a small pop was heard, before Umbridge was transfigured into a real life toad. She gave a croak and attempted to hop away, but Barone prevented the toad’s escape, before he turned to his men.
“Now that loose end is tied up, let’s take the Portkey and prepare to move onto the next phase of the plan,” ordered Barone, as Umbridge the toad attempted to make a desperate lunge for escape, with Barone stopped as he calmly removed the Portkey. The mobsters crowded and seconds later, they reappeared at headquarters, before they moved on to other activities until they were summoned again.
Once they were gone, Barone set Umbridge the toad down on the floor, both his wand and a gun trained on the toad.
“Vinny, dinner!” called Barone in a wicked voice and Vinny the snake slithered into focus, staring down the toad with hungry eyes.
“Tonight’s prey looks delicious,” hissed Vinny with relish as the toad gave one feeble croak as Vinny stalked it before there was nothing but silence.
Meanwhile in his fortress, a large stone structure shaped like the dark mark, located in the middle of a remote swamp, Lord Voldemort sat in a dark, depressing room in his fortress, enjoying the silence. His plans for the world would take some time to completely put into play, but he was a patient man. He had spent a decade in various less than acceptable forms and because of his immortality; time was a luxury that the Dark Lord had an abundance of.
“Enter,” hissed Voldemort as his spells outside the door signaled an approaching desk and one of his Death Eaters entered the room, before he kneeled before his lord. “To your feet, Fluxom.”
“My lord, I come to inform you of a message that was printed in today’s Daily Prophet,” said Fluxom quickly as he extended his hand out with the copy of the paper to Lord Voldemort. “Perhaps if you would…”
Voldemort calmly took the paper, surveying it with an unconcerned look on his face.
“Barone says he has purchased time of the Wizarding Wireless for this evening and will address the entire Wizarding World, he insists I should tune in especially,” muttered Voldemort to himself and he rose to his feet, to make preparations to listen to Barone’s broadcast at the appointed time.
At approximately a quarter till nine in the evening, all channels broadcasted on the Wizarding Wireless were cut off abruptly.
“This broadcast has been interrupted by a special announcement paid for by the mafia directed towards Lord Voldemort and any other upstart dark wizards who might want to make a name for themselves at the expense of Harry Potter,” announced a voice over the wireless before it was cut in.
“Good evening, children, you know who I am,” said Barone over the radio. “Now recently, you may have heard the rumors that Lord Voldemort has returned. Voldemort or as I will now call him, because I refuse to acknowledge a falsely made title, Riddle, staged an elaborate scheme to abduct the heir to a very prestigious mafia empire and put his life in jeopardy. Yes, Riddle, that was in fact Harry and not some elaborate scheme on my part. You were lucky he survived too weren’t you, or you’d be kissing that immortality good bye, huh Riddle.”
Voldemort just calmly sat there as laughter echoed from the wireless.
“Still, there is an old saying that if you send one of ours to the hospital will send one of yours to the morgue, but I don’t personally believe that saying,” continued Barone. “My belief is that if you even lay one hand on one of us, I’ll put all of yours six feet under and laugh in your face about it, as I dance over their graves. You might be wondering, exactly how do I plan to eliminate every single Death Eater? Well, I’m not going to explain my plan in great detail to give my enemies a chance to beat me. I mean, who do you think I am, Voldemort?”
Barone laughed again, in a sinister tone and Voldemort privately wondered if this mobster had a death wish as he was sure digging his grave under the wireless right about now.
“As for you Riddle, I know you want one more round with Harry to prove yourself to be the superior wizard, in a more public forum, to really hammer home your dominance, but guess what, life is a bitch and then you die,” said Barone. “And believe me Riddle, you will die a messy death and any magical assassins listening over my broadcast might find this next piece of information of interest. Effective immediately, a contract is going out on Tom Marvolo Riddle, also Lord Voldemort also known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named also known You-Know-Who also the Dark Lord, soon to be known as R.I.P. So anyone who wants to make a quick few galleons or in fact one million of them, I want the Dark Lord’s head. I’m not fussed about whether or not the body is attached, as long as the head is intact so I can place it as a trophy over the fireplace in my office. Someone take the god damned gold, I want Riddle gone.”
Voldemort wondered what Barone was playing at, surely no witch or wizard would are go after the Dark Lord just to make some gold.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Riddle, time is ticking away, and your end will come, there were those who would try and do you in for free if they got the chance and they have more than a chance, with one million galleons and there might be a few within your own Inner Circle who might stab you in the back. But don’t worry Riddle, if we do ever meet, you don’t have to worry about me stabbing you in the back like a coward because I’ll shoot you right between the eyes like a man,” concluded Barone, before he paused briefly. “One final thought before you resume your regularly scheduled programming and this is directed at Riddle. It’s almost nine o’clock, do you know where your minions are?”
The minute Barone’s voice went dead, Voldemort prepared to call a meeting of his Death Eaters but a loud thud echoed from the next room and Voldemort turned around, to see a figure dressed in full Death Eater garb standing outside the door, who quickly fire a set of extremely lethal looking spells at Voldemort. Voldemort naturally deflected every one of them with ease, before he knocked his soon to be dead opponent backwards. The Dark Lord slashed his wand and the mask broke up to reveal the face of Goyle.
“Goyle?” thundered Voldemort in surprise. “How dare you attempt to attack Lord Voldemort!”
“My lord, please, I came home several years ago, spelling of troll love, thanks to that blasted bounty hunter and my wife left me, I’m nothing without her,” begged Goyle. “Please, master, be a good chap, by jove, I’m just only trying to earn some money to buy her things to win her back. Come on, that’s a good fellow, come on old chap, have some mercy, it’s not like I’m trying to betray you, I just need the money, nothing personal old bean.”
“Avada Kedavra,” said Voldemort softly and a jet of green light flew out, impacting Goyle right in the chest, dropping him to the ground and another echo, as Voldemort was backed off by a large ball of fire, as a cloaked individual had attempted to cash in on the contract that Barone had put on Voldemort’s head. A loud crack as Voldemort’s arm was broken, but naturally it healed within seconds, because of the properties of his new body.
The assassin was relentless and sent a large jet of acid at Voldemort. Voldemort repelled it backwards and turned to face the assassin, who dropped a small parcel on the ground. A loud bang and smoke filled the air, as a couple of jets of solid black light shot right at Voldemort, before the assassin had fled, no doubt ready to return with a better strategy.
Before the smoke cleared, another assassin, also dressed in full Death Eater garb and looking rather short in stature arrived in front of Voldemort and shot a couple of organ explosion hexes, and blasted several razor sharp spikes at Voldemort. The attack caught the Dark Lord off guard, as he was still off balance from the second assassin. Voldemort casually slashed his wand towards the attacker and the attacker staggered to the ground, but he quickly blasted a hole through the wall, before escaping into the swamp and disapparated.
Voldemort sent a large silver snake out of his wand to summon his Death Eaters for a meeting, along with someone to fix that wall the attacker.
Back at one of his many bases of operation, Harry pulled off the Death Eater mask and removed the hood, no doubt he put Voldemort on the edge with that last attack. Little did Voldemort know that Harry knew exactly where he was and he had been doing his broadcast from the same swamp where Voldemort was located, but he did have several bodyguards hidden in strategic location just in case his mission went awry.
“I heard your little broadcast on the wireless Harry,” remarked Remus calmly, as he stepped out of the room. “A million galleons to the person who kills Voldemort?”
“Yes I might be overpricing him but a couple of days ago, I had his location leaked to several places where magical assassins have been known to hang out, so there will be no shortage of people who would want to take a crack at Riddle,” responded Harry, who was fully aware that a direct fight against Voldemort would be an idiotic move after last time, so he was going to keep Voldemort busy with this contract until Harry felt he was ready.
“What if he finds out and decides to move?” questioned Remus.
“Riddle’s ego won’t allow him to, he’ll consider that admitting defeat,” argued Harry. “Granted, I’m not expecting anyone to come remotely close to anyone to offing Riddle, but the million galleons is set back and damned if I’ll complain if someone succeeds. I’ll most likely have to go up against Voldemort once again, but until I can come up with a way to defeat him, I can only stall him.”
Indeed, Harry was working with Flamel, as his centuries of experience might prove useful, along with consulting a few other of the most brilliant minds in the Wizarding World. While Voldemort’s body was stronger than ever before, nothing was invulnerable and Harry vowed to work hard to find Voldemort’s Achilles heel.
“And dare I ask, where did you get the Death Eater Costume?” questioned Remus.
“They sell them in a clothing store at Diagon Alley,” replied Harry casually. “I figure if some Ministry stooge comes around, they pass them off as Halloween costumes but never mind that as the show is really about to begin.”
In the worst part of Knockturn Alley, a group of four Death Eaters had concluded their purchases of several questionable relics, which would serve the mysterious plans of the Dark Lord well. It cost a fare amount of gold, but no price was too much in serving their master. They crowded around, before the leader of the group tapped the illegal Portkey with his wand.
They only had two seconds to realize that the Portkey had been switched with a magically enhanced bomb rigged to explode the second a wand tapped it. Unfortunately, none of the Death Eaters were quick witted to realize this and could not put up a shield. A loud explosion went off, blowing the four Death Eaters to bits and turning over half of Knockturn Alley into debris, absolutely obliterating several of the shops.
Around that time, Lord Voldemort had a meeting of all of his Inner Circle members at his swamp fortress. He stood, with his back to a wall, as he turned to address them.
“As you may have heard if you had listened to the Wizarding Wireless earlier today, Barone, obviously incensed that I had figured out that his scheme that he had sent a decoy instead of Harry Potter despite the lies he had spread to the contrary, had placed a sizeable sum of gold on my head, upwards to one million galleons,” responded Voldemort. “There has already been a handful of attempts on my life and there may be several more, as the world is chalked full of fools and to my Death Eaters, there had already been two attempts on my life this evening from my own circle. The second managed to just barely get away with his life, but the first was Goyle. Goyle’s attempt on my life failed and I offer him as an example of anyone in this room who attempts to make a name for themselves by attempting to collect the gold that Barone offered for my head. Is that clear?”
The Death Eaters nodded in agreement, but a lower ranking Death Eater burst through the door, with a frantic expression on his face, before he knelt down before Voldemort.
“To your feet,” ordered Voldemort calmly.
“My Lord, Knockturn Alley has been destroyed and the four you had sent, had not returned!” explained the frantic Death Eater and Voldemort stood calmly, without an expression on his face. Today, he had sent four Death Eaters to retrieve a trio of highly dangerous and rare artifacts that were being kept at Borgin and Burkes, the owner of the shop most likely didn’t know their true power or value. In essence, when joined together, Voldemort could use them to make all magical creatures his completely obedient servants and that was essential to his plans.
“Bella, take a team to Knockturn Alley, make sure the artifacts aren’t damaged in any way,” ordered Voldemort.
“Anything you say, my Lord!” cheered Bellatrix in an absolute bubbly voice, as a few Inner Circle Members joined the insane dark witch, before they disapparated to Knockturn Alley.
After about thirty minutes of silence, the Death Eaters reappeared, all with apprehensive looks on their faces.
“My Lord, have mercy, we attempted to recovery the artifacts but they weren’t in Knockturn Alley,” reported Bellatrix in a scared voice. “I don’t know what happened, the Ministry might have gotten there first or they were destroyed in the explosion.”
“This is a minor inconvenience,” said Voldemort dismissively, but deep down he was quite angered about the loss of priceless artifacts and had a pretty good idea on who was responsible for the destruction of Knockturn Alley. “I must regroup our and restructure our plans, I will summon you once I require you for our next move.”
One by one, the Death Eaters disapparated as Voldemort disappeared into the deepest, darkest, recesses of his fortress to plot.
Walden MacNair, evil executioner extraordinaire, returned from the Death Eater meeting, insulted that anyone would dare put gold on the head of his beloved master, the Dark Lord. Sure the Dark Lord could get really cranky at times and randomly use the Cruciatus Curse on people, but he was not all that bad of a guy. Plus, he offered decent medical coverage, which was something that the Ministry sure did not do.
MacNair was caught off guard as a loud rumbling echoed outside of his home. As the rumbling grew louder, MacNair could think of only two things. Either it was an earthquake or those punk Muggle teenagers next door were blaring their music. MacNair stepped forward to investigate but much to his absolute shock, a herd of rhinoceroses shattered his wall. He threateningly pointed his wand, but that did not do MacNair much good at all. Blood splattered onto his wall as a horn impaled right into his stomach. The rhinoceroses continued their rampage, trampling to through the neighborhood, with corpse of MacNair stuck to one of their horns, before they went right into a large wall of white light, where they vanished as suddenly as they appeared from the neighborhood.
The next morning, another Death Eater, named Ellison, had been going through some rough times. He had been sacked from his job at the Ministry due to some recent cutbacks and his wife had left him for another woman. The only hope he had in life was to earn a dark mark and finally be allowed to join the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle. Until they, he did the only thing he felt was logical and retreated right into the bottle of firewhiskey.
In fact, Ellison was so hung over from the previous evening, that it took him several minutes to realize that he was not in his house, but in fact, he was in an abandoned saw mill, strapped to a conveyor belt and moving directly towards a rotating buzzsaw, without a wand to disable the machinery. The Death Eater attempted to scream for help but no sound came out, including the screams of his own pain as the buzz saw cut right into the top of his head. Seconds later, Ellison was two perfectly symmetrical halves, neither of them living.
Around this time, Seth Jugson, one of the Death Eaters inadvertently busted out of Azkaban when Sirius Black was broken out prepared to make some breakfast. Being on the run didn’t offer him many luxuries and he lived in an abandoned shack that was right next to a train station. As he sat down, a large barrage of Muggle bullets shattered the windows. Jugson was marginally smarter than most of his fellow Death Eaters, so he ducked under the table, putting a shield up. As glass shattered around Jugson, he attempted to apparate out but enchantments had been placed his rundown shack to prevent such a means of escape. As a backup plan, he blasted the door open before he rushed outside as quickly as he could manage. Jugson reached approximately five feet before he was shot right in the heel. The Death Eater recoiled in agony as he was hoisted up into the air, his wand flying quite a distance and thick cords wrapped around him, binding him around the train tracks. Jugson attempted to pull himself free but much like ninety five percent of the Wizarding World, he was powerless without his wand.
His situation went from bad to worse when the sound of an approaching train was heard and Jugson looked up in horror as a train barreled down the tracks right towards him. There was nothing he could do to brace himself for the impact, as the train rolled right over him. Several loud crunches and the train passed, with Jugson’s decapitated head rolling off the track. The train skidded to a stop, as Barone stuck his head out the window, wearing a conductor’s cap, with a triumphant look on his face, as he raised the pimp cane high into the air in victory, before giving an approving look to the group of his mobsters that had flushed Jugson out of his home, before he met his final doom.
In the afternoon, Yaxley sank down in his chair, absolutely exhausted from a hard day’s work at the Ministry of Magic. In between his job at the Ministry, had still attempted to vainly collect information about Barone for the Dark Lord. There was no doubt in Yaxley’s mind that the Dark Lord would want to know more about the mysterious mobster, ever since the contract was placed on the Dark Lord’s head. His efforts had been in vain, but Yaxley vowed not to rest until he found out about Barone. There seemed to be an interesting paper trail that covered his activities and Yaxley was now beginning to unravel it slightly.
At that moment, Yaxley was started as his door blown open. The Death Eater sprang to his feet with cat like relaxes and sent a barrage of spells at him, but a large net burst from nowhere, wrapping up Yaxley. Yaxley struggled and tried to cut himself free, but one of the mobsters calmly snatched the wand from the trapped Yaxley’s hand before it was tossed to the ground, as Barone walked into the picture, with a gun in one hand and a wand in the other.
“Yaxley, Yaxley, Yaxley, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” remarked Barone calmly. “Putting an eleven year old in danger, who just happens to be my responsibility, not exactly a great way to get on my good side. Also, you’ve been quite the busy body, haven’t you? Been snooping around, trying to figure me out, you are coming dangerously close to knowing too much.”
“Barone, you can’t get away with this, the Dark Lord…” stated Yaxley but Barone cut in.
“SHADDUP!” snapped Barone, as he smacked Yaxley with the pimp cane. “Save your rhetoric about the Dark Lord making me pay for someone who might actually give a damn. Riddle has his hands full with warding off about a dozen or so attempts on his life a day. You’d be surprised how many people would be willing to risk their necks against Riddle for one million galleons.”
Two of Barone’s men hoisted the contained Yaxley up, before they touched a Portkey, reappearing seconds later at an abandoned warehouse.
“Wait, you’ve just brought me to an abandoned Muggle warehouse to shoot me with those guns or whatever those rubbish things that Muggles have created to replace wands,” mocked Yaxley.
“Don’t be an idiot, we haven’t brought you to a warehouse to just shoot you to death,” replied Barone before he paused. “We brought you to a warehouse to shoot you to death and dump your corpse into a vat of acid.”
The mobsters shared a brief laugh at their boss’s twisted sense of humor.
“Gentlemen, start your machine guns,” prompted Barone and a short time later, Yaxley was filled full of bullets. Calmly, Barone levitated the bullet ridden corpse into the air, before he dropped it into a vat of acid. “That will be all today gentlemen, having a good evening and give the best to your family. A couple more Death Eaters need to be put in their place but that can wait until tomorrow.”
Without another word, the mobsters took the Portkey back to headquarters, before calling it an evening.
In the early part of the morning the following day, Rodolphus Lestrange opened his eyes. Bellatrix was not in the bedroom, which was always a good sign but rather eight Muggle firearms and one wand were on him.
“Good evening Roddy, this is your wakeup call,” declared Barone as the mobsters stood beside him but Barone held it up in the air, which caused Rodolphus’s eyes to widen in horror.
“Give me my wand you stupid Mudblood or…” stated Rodolphus in what he perceived to be a threatening voice but he found himself magically yanked into bed, before he was thrown into the hallway. Several more bursts of magic blasted Rodolphus down the hallway of his home. One final blast sent him down to the main level of the Lestrange estate and a second blast of magic sent him down another flight of stairs into the basement.
When the cobwebs were cleared, Rodolphus was chained the floor of his own basement as he watched a quartet of mobsters haul a giant magnifying down the stairs, and place it directly over Barone.
“I pride myself in the killing my enemies in the most insane and innovative ways possible, with a few considerations for humiliation thrown in when applicable” remarked Barone calmly. “I mean, anyone could gun someone down or strike them with a Killing Curse. Rather uninspiring, don’t you think, Roddy?”
Rodolphus just stared at Barone with utter contempt and hatred in his eyes.
“Not much of a talker, I see, well it really doesn’t matter does it,” continued Barone. “Ever take a magnifying glass and fry ants when you were young?”
“That sounds something that might be more up Bella’s street,” muttered Rodolphus, more to himself then Barone.
“Now, I was up late at night, thinking, what if I got a bigger magnifying glass and used it on Death Eaters, wouldn’t that be keen?” asked Barone doing an imitation of an over excited boy scout as he leapt up and down. “No, most likely not, but I’m going to do it anyway. After all, I must always burn my opponents before the end.”
Barone waved his wand, causing the magnifying glass to glow orange before Rodolphus screamed as he spontaneously combusted underneath the magnifying glass.
“Death Eaters roasting on an open fire!” sang Barone as he watched Rodolphus burn. “Being killed dead by fire!”
Casually, as if this was any every day occurrence, Barone calmly removed a bag of marshmallows from his pocket before placing several of them on Rodolphus’s wand. Coolly, Barone held the marshmallows over Rodolphus’s body as the magnifying class concluded burning the Death Eater to a crisp.
“Mmm, Death Eater roasted marshmallows, the newest food craze,” voiced Barone in between bites as he also banished the ashes of Rodolphus. “Want a taste?”
The mobsters shook their heads but Barone just shrugged his shoulders. After all, that just left more for him, which he was perfectly pleased with.
Before Barone departed, he left his calling card, shooting into the air a dark mark being shot by a construct of a machine gun. Blood appeared to have splattered from the dark mark as it was shot in mid air.
Minister Weaver was at the Ministry, in a rather towering mood. Several Ministry employees had vanished while a few others that had vanished had been confirmed dead. It was rather interesting that most, if not all of them were individuals who had been accused of being Death Eaters but were acquitted due to claming they had been under the Imperius Curse.
“Minister, we’ve found MacNair or what’s left of him,” informed a frantic looking aide, as he entered the Minister’s office. “His remains were found in Africa.”
“Now that’s solved,” said Weaver in a weary voice. “Now we’ve got to find out what in the hell happened to Umbridge, she just vanished without a trace.”
“I bet Barone was somehow behind this, Minister,” remarked the aide.
“Until we have any proof, we cannot make groundless accusations, so until we have concrete evidence that directly ties Barone to the mysterious deaths, then the guy’s clean,” said the Minister. “Yes, that modified dark mark does look suspicious, but it could just as easily be someone who has a vendetta against him, we must consider anything and who let you in here, Skeeter.”
Indeed, Rita Skeeter was standing in the doorway of Weaver’s office.
“Good morning Minister, I’d like to ask you a few questions about recent events, all these mysterious deaths and disappearances,” remarked Rita. “True, a few allegedly respected Ministry officials have met their end, but there have been many Death Eaters who have been broken out of Azkaban that have been killed as well. I would like a word about that.”
“Most likely some sort of self appointed magical vigilante,” offered Weaver. “I’d like to point out that the Ministry does not approve acts outside the scope of the law and it is the duty of the Ministry Aurors to bring in fugitives, not any wizard off the street. While our mysterious friend no doubt has the best intentions in mind, he is breaking the law.”
“Ah, but that’s the Ministry stance on the issue, but what do you think, Minister?” asked Rita.
“As long as I’m Minister, what I think is irrelevant, Skeeter,” remarked Weaver in a testy voice, as a part of him was grateful that whomever was behind this was cutting down on the workload, but as the Minister of Magic, he had sworn to uphold the laws of the Ministry and if he had concrete proof on who did this, he would be forced to declare them a fugitive. Not that he was going out of his way to find out who was eliminating Death Eaters and once suspected Death Eaters, as the return of Voldemort and a few mysterious attacks on Muggle villages in recent days were of a greater concern to the security of the world.
“Fair enough Minister, thank you for your time, I’m sure our readers will be extremely interested to hear what the Ministry’s opinion are on this issue,” answered Rita.
“Skeeter, if you twist even one word…” stated Weaver.
“Don’t worry, the boss wants the absolute truth and let’s face it, when dealing with the Ministry, the truth can be more damaging then any sensationalism,” admitted Rita. “Good day to you Minister.”
The summer passed with many more mysterious deaths and disappearances that put the entire Wizarding World on edge. In between several skilled assassins who had came to collect on the one million galleons, some coming closer than others, Voldemort staged a few carefully planned attacks, including a raid on Azkaban. Voldemort not only broke out all of the Death Eaters that were left inside the prison, but it was also rumored that he offered several other prisoners a chance to escape, in exchange for joining him. At least half of the prisoners who were not Death Eaters jumped on the opportunity to join Voldemort.
The next Hogwarts school year began just days after this desperate Voldemort move where he busted several Death Eaters and other fugitives out of Azkaban, to replace the followers that had been knocked out by Barone. Outside of King’s Cross, the Weasleys were making their way to the station, Percy in the front, adjusting his prefect badge.
“So, I’m finally going to meet him,” whispered Ginny in an excited voice to Ron. “I’m so jealous, you already know him.”
“Yes, Harry and I are best mates,” said Ron proudly. “Sure we don’t talk that much, because he’s a Ravenclaw so I suppose it’s a rule in that house that you have to spend nearly all of your free time in the library or something but we get along alright.”
Fred and George stopped as they looked at their two youngest siblings with amusement.
“Should we tell Ron that Harry can barely stand him because he’s a closed minded git?” asked George in a lowered tone of voice.
“Nah,” said Fred.
“Should we tell Ginny that she might score points with Harry by acting like an over excited fan girl?” questioned George.
“Nah,” replied Fred a second time.
“Should we laugh when they finally wise up and realize that they’ve not endeared themselves to Harry, a long time after the rest of the world has?” inquired George.
“Oh yes,” replied Fred.
“What are you two up to?” demanded Molly.
“Us, up to anything,” said George in a mock wounded voice.
“Mum, how could you say we would be up to something?” asked Fred.
“Just behave and make sure your sister doesn’t embarrass herself too much in front of Harry,” replied Molly. “That poor boy needs someone who will make sure he doesn’t stray down the wrong path, it’s a shame that rotten mobster spread those lies about Dumbledore, but we can still help him, even though Dumbledore can’t now.”
Fred and George just nodded to patronize their mother, wondering exactly how much of their little sister’s crush was encouraged by their mother before they boarded the train for their trip to Hogwarts.
On the train, Harry, Hermione, Blaise, Neville, Fred, and George had found a compartment to the back of the train, removed from nearly everything else.
“Summer was excellent, a bit quiet if anything, unless of course you listened to the news,” said Blaise.
“You mean all those Death Eaters who mysteriously dropped dead,” remarked George.
“Not to mention all those once supposed Death Eaters who suddenly snapped out of the Imperius Curse when they were accused, that also dropped dead,” said Fred.
“Yes, that, I normally don’t follow the news, but that did manage to catch my eye,” replied Blaise. “Dad seemed a bit pleased, but I think that’s more likely because it seems that Barone’s more occupied with You-Know-Who then him, so he might see it as a chance for him to regain some ground.”
“Ah yes, your infamous guardian, Harry,” remarked George.
“You wouldn’t have to know if he had anything to do about this, would you?” asked Fred.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Harry in a falsely innocent voice that caused Hermione to casually place her hand over her mouth to stifle a smile. “Still, Death Eaters dropping dead can’t be all that bad, can it?”
“No, the Ministry says they are going to do something, according to Gran, but she said she’ll believe it when she sees it,” inputted Neville.
“The Ministry couldn’t catch anything if they stationed their headquarters in a village suffering from a plague,” said Blaise which caused the others to laugh.
“Still even if Barone’s methods seem a bit extreme and slightly insane,” remarked Hermione slowly, as she glanced sideways to Harry. “It’s unfortunate and necessary.”
They all nodded in agreement, as they awaited the sweet cart. Harry had big plans to get loaded up on sugar for his own amusement but as the door opened, with two individuals and Harry’s face was fixed, into a neutral expression, that hid any emotion on his face once and for all. There were many things that Harry felt he could handle, many individuals that Harry could see, but he was not ready for this.
“Are you sure that there isn’t any other place, Luna?” asked Ginny in a hushed voice, as she blushed slightly.
“Yes, there isn’t, this is the only compartment that has room,” replied Luna in a calm voice.
“Yes, but oh Merlin, he’s in here, I’m not ready, what if I make a fool of myself?” asked Ginny.
“If you do, then that’s what will happen,” answered Luna in a firm voice. “Ginny, you’ve never met him in your life, now is a good time to form an own opinion on Harry Potter. If you two don’t mix, better to know now, then waste your life going on false hope.”
“Of course we’re get along,” remarked Ginny as she was appalled that Luna was suggesting anything to the contrary as Luna lead them inside, as Ginny looked at the floor, embarrassed about being in the same room with him and the fact that he was so impossibly cute did not help matters any, but that was too be expected. If Harry Potter was ugly, that would be a crime to the Wizarding World.
“May we sit here, everywhere else is full?” asked Luna politely.
“Of course, you may,” replied Hermione in a kind voice. “I’m Hermione Granger by the way.”
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Luna Lovegood and this is my friend, Ginny Weasley,” remarked Luna, who took pity on Ginny who seemed too tongue tied to say anything in the presence of Harry Potter, despite never saying two words to him.
“Blaise Zabini,” introduced Blaise.
“Neville Longbottom,” said Neville politely.
“Now, Luna, we’re hurt, you should know who we are,” replied George.
“Yes, considering the fact we dropped water balloons filled with chocolate syrup in yours and Ginny’s hair when you were both seven,” added Fred.
“Although to be fair, we were aiming for Percy,” concluded George.
“Yes, he snitched on us to Mum for not degnoming the garden properly,” added Fred.
“Yes, I remember that, it was quite amusing, even if it did take several hours to get my hair clean,” remarked Luna casually as she turned to Harry, almost expecting him to expect them to know who he was.
“Pleased to meet you Luna, I’m Harry Potter,” said Harry calmly, looking Luna right in the eyes, deciding to ignore Ginny for the sake of not getting angry today. “You wouldn’t have to be related to the editor of the Quibbler, Xenophilius Lovegood, would you?”
“Yes, that’s my Dad, also the seven time winner of the Witch Weekly’s ‘First Name Most Likely to Be Misspelled on a Restraining Order’ award,” remarked Luna which caused Harry to laugh, he had hoped she would bring this point up. As far as Harry was concerned, that award was more prestigious then the bullshit most charming smile award that Lockhart had won. “Why, are you a fan, Harry?”
“Of course I am, anyone who isn’t is really missing out,” said Harry and he was telling the truth, he was highly amused by the Quibbler each and every month. “I know it’s panned as not being a serious publication by the Wizarding World, but let’s be honest, most of them aren’t very opened minded. There is so much in there that’s the truth to.”
“Yes, I agree, people should be open minded and while some of Dad’s information can be a bit out there, when he does stumble upon the truth and when he has, we’ve gotten a few death threats,” remarked Luna casually, as if this was an everyday thing and for Harry, it might have been, but Harry was a bit concerned about this happening to his friend and her family. “Mum really doesn’t like the way Dad sometimes pokes fun at the wrong people, but it gives him a hobby and judging by our readership, there are a lot of people who are fans, so he must be do something right.”
“He is, in fact if your Dad tries to change the way he writes the Quibbler, I might have to stop reading it,” joked Harry, which caused Luna to laugh.
“I really don’t think there’s a danger in that, Harry,” answered Luna with a smile, before she chanced a look over at Ginny, who continued to stare at Harry, looking transfixed. “So tell me about you Harry?”
“Well the first five years in my life I was forced against my will to live with the Dursleys, the best argument to stamping out Muggles for pureblood supremacists, before I was rescued by the mob, as I found out that I was an heir to a vast mafia empire,” explained Harry. “Until I ready, an old retired mob boss, named Allan Michael Barone, who just happened to be a wizard, was hired to both help run the operations and get me prepared. Dumbledore didn’t take too kindly to this but in court, he was exposed. Until I went to Hogwarts, my life was rather quiet, I went to a Muggle school with Hermione and Blaise here, and needless to say, we left our mark. Our first teacher is still in the asylum from what happened and at Hogwarts, I worked hard, getting sorted into Ravenclaw, and then the year was rather quiet. Unless you count that minor detail of Voldemort attempting to kill me.”
“Yes, that would put a damper on a good year,” agreed Luna. “Still, it just proves you’re more than just a famous name considering you got yourself in one piece. As long as you don’t start believing in the hype that others give you, I think you’re make it out okay Harry. From what I’ve learned since I’ve met you, it seems you have a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thank you Luna,” said Harry. “Those people who give me that hype as some great savior have never really met me, so there opinion counts for very little as far as I’m concerned. It just frustrates me that people who have never really gotten to know me all that well think they who I am.”
Ginny’s heart fluttered as Harry Potter had just looked at her. She disregarded the part that Harry’s eyes were slightly narrowed in a bit if distaste when he did. It was too good to be true, Harry had to have fancied her, even if he didn’t know it yet.
“Yes, I can see how that would be rather frustrating,” repeated Luna as she nudged Ginny but Ginny seemed to not have noticed.
“So what houses do you think you’ll be in?” asked Hermione.
“I think it’d be interesting to see where I’m placed, Mum was in Gryffindor and Dad was in Ravenclaw,” remarked Luna candidly. “I’m leaning towards Ravenclaw, it’s just Gryffindors seem a little impulsive at times, no offense.”
“None taken,” said Neville as Fred and George also nodded, as they agreed that sometimes they acted before they talked.
“I’d be in Gryffindor, everyone else but Ron was, after all,” said Ginny in a quiet voice, even though she hoped she was in Ravenclaw so she could be with her Harry. After all, her mother said they were destined to be together and she had dreamed of marrying Harry ever since she was four.
At that moment, the lady who wheeled the trolley full of sweets inside entered the compartment.
“Anything off the trolley?” asked the snack lady and at that moment, Harry and Luna both sprang up, reaching for the remaining chocolate frogs on the cart at the same time.
“Oh, sorry Harry, but I really like chocolate,” said Luna, wishing she had shown a bit more restraint in front of Harry.
“Oh, don’t mention it, I do to,” replied Harry.
“How about we take all the chocolate and split the cost?” suggested Luna.
“No need Luna, I can pay for it all, no need to spend your money,” replied Harry.
“Harry, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help you pay for this?” asked Luna firmly as she turned to the snack lady. “How much for rest of the chocolate on the cart?”
“That would be thirty nine galleons, five sickles, and three knuts,” replied the snack lady, and Luna and Harry, pooled together forty galleons each.
“Keep the change,” said Harry, as Luna nodded in agreement, as they carried arms of chocolate frogs back into the compartment. “Do any of you want anything?”
Fred and George shook their heads no, that had already accepted enough from Harry. Neville had already eaten a large breakfast and was saving himself for the feast. Hermione didn’t eat all that many sweets and Blaise reached forward, helping herself to a few chocolate frogs. Ginny just continued to stare transfixed at Harry, unaware that he had said anything.
“I always thought the cards were rather interesting,” replied Luna. “Dad doesn’t like them all that much, though?”
“Really, why?” asked Blaise curiously, as she took a bite out of the chocolate frog.
“Well, he thinks they are a part of a vast right wing conspiracy by the Ministry of Magic to brainwash people into following them without question,” explained Luna.
“It’s a good thing your Dad caught on about that Luna, the Ministry was being rather diabolical in their schemes and the people need to know the truth,” said Harry seriously.
“That does sound a little far fetched,” remarked Hermione.
“So does an entire hidden world of Magical people, yet here we are,” countered Harry casually.
“Not to mention a one year old knocking the most powerful dark lord of all time out of his body,” added Blaise but a loud thump was heard outside the door. “What in the bloody hell was that?”
“Please don’t be Death Eaters attacking the train, please don’t be Death Eaters attacking the train, please don’t be Death Eaters attacking the train,” muttered Harry under his breath but something much worse than Death Eaters came flying into the room.
“Someone get this psychotic dwarf away from me!” yelled Ron in a petrified voice, as he hid behind Ginny and seconds later the infamous Killer Schwartz entered the room, a crossbow in hand.
“G’day mates, I’m Killer Schwartz but my friends call me Killer Schwartz and my enemies call me, Killer Schwartz,” announced the bounty hunter. “I’m here because I received intelligence that Lord Voldemort is here on this very train.”
“Where?” asked Neville who sounded a bit intimidated.
“Right there,” yelled Killer Schwartz as he dragged Ron out from behind his sister. “Thought you could pull one on me, Voldemort, but I will have that one million galleon bounty when I remove your head and present it to Barone. I will be able to blooming retire, mate.”
“Killer Schwartz!” said Luna in a firm voice. “Put him down and listen to me for a minute.
“Ah, Miss Lovegood, I hope your father is doing quite well,” remarked Killer Schwarz.
“You know this guy,” muttered Harry.
“Of course, Daddy wrote an article on bounty hunting midgets with mullets last year and interviewed Killer Schwartz, he really is quite skilled at playing the piano,” replied Luna calmly.
“Oh yeah, I remember now,” said Harry. “Mr. Schwartz…”
“Nonsense mate, no need to be formal, you may call me Killer Schwartz, because that’s what my friends call me, Killer Schwartz,” prompted Killer Schwartz.
“Anyway, I’m afraid that’s not Voldemort,” said Harry.
“No, he’s just our brother,” supplied George.
“Doubt he could take over the world any time soon,” said Fred.
“Foiled again, but mark my words, that bounty will be mine,” remarked Killer Schwartz as he walked off the hunt down, as it was evident that the train
As Luna and Ginny made their way to a boat, Ginny turned to Luna with a calculating smirk on her face.
“I told you we would get along great,” said Ginny. “Did you see the way Harry looked at me?”
“No,” replied Luna calmly. “If you bothered to listen to him, he said he doesn’t like people who judge him before they know him. The fact you looked at him like a star struck fan girl the entire time didn’t help your cause any.”
“Luna, I like you, but I know Harry likes me, he just has to, we were meant to be together,” protested Ginny stubbornly.
“I suspect there are plenty others who might say they were meant to be with Harry to,” said Luna rationally.
“They’re just being silly, only I’m meant to be with Harry, Mum agrees with me, and once Harry figures it out, you’ll be admitting you’re wrong,” remarked Ginny, as she was quite persistent in her beliefs.
“We’ll see,” said Luna dismissively. “We’ll see.”
The sorting was just the usual, nothing important, Remus and Sirius were still the rotating Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Luna was sorted into Ravenclaw as expected and Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor, something that she looked rather put out, as she looked at the Ravenclaw table longingly. Harry felt a mixture of anger, with just a tiny bit of sympathy towards Ginny. As wrong as her actions were, she was getting pressured into doing so by her mother, Dumbledore, and to a lesser extent Ron. But at the same time, Ginny chose to give into the pressure. Harry knew that if the tables were turned, if Ginny was the Girl-Who-Lived and he was the over obsessive mindless fan boy with a crush on the heroine, he would not stoop as low as attempting to put a love potion in Ginny’s drink. The thing that struck him the most is that, if Harry hadn’t been famous, there was a chance that he could have gotten along much better with certain people, but who would know for sure.
One thing was for sure, as Harry reflected on certain things from the past, no matter what, he would no longer be guided by his heart. He had lost too much and he couldn’t bare to lose it again, if he had gotten too emotionally attached. Those thoughts were on his mind as he walked to the Ravenclaw Common Room with Hermione and at that second, Dobby popped in front of them.
“Harry Potter sir, Dobby has been set with a message, the number two target has been found,” said Dobby.
“Excellent, Hermione if anyone asks, tell them that urgent business came up that only I can attend to,” remarked Harry but Hermione grabbed him by the arm.
“What does Dobby mean by the number two target?” demanded Hermione.
“Bellatrix Lestrange, don’t worry Hermione, this time I’ve got an emergency Portkey, seven of them in fact and I’ll have mafia backup this time, I learned my lesson from the Snape fiasco,” remarked Harry as Hermione opened her mouth. “Yes, I’ll be careful, thanks for your concern.”
Without another word, Harry went off, to change from mild mannered Hogwarts second year Harry Potter to ruthless mob boss, Barone.
The location of Bellatrix’s home was on a cliff, overlooking a large body of water. Waves whipped down as a storm was brewing outside, as Barone turned to address his men in an undertone.
“Now, I’m going to have to go in myself, because I’d like to minimize the causalities as Bellatrix can be rather unpredictable,” said Barone. “Stay in position to take her out if it looks like there is no way to defend myself.”
“We’ve got it, just try and not get yourself maimed in there,” said Antonio, who was read the riot act not too long ago by his niece, Hermione, about making sure Harry didn’t take dangerous risks.
“Vinny, keep an eye out here, just in case anyone else comes in,” replied Barone, as he released his snake out.
“Of course, Master,” hissed Vinny as Barone entered Bellatrix’s room, greeting by the insane dark witch calmly knitting.
“Well it’s about time you showed up Barone, I was wondering what I’d have to do to get you and your merry mafia to attempt to kill me,” said Bellatrix casually. “Club baby seals? Rip tags off of mattresses? Post nude pictures of Umbridge all over Diagon Alley?”
Barone recoiled in horror at the last idea by Umbridge.
“If you wish to throw up before I murder you, the bathroom’s right around the corner,” said Bellatrix.
“No, I’ll live,” replied Barone.
“NOT FOR LONG!” shrieked Bellatrix as she sent a jet of yellow light which Barone dodged and it incinerated the wall completely behind him. “I’m the greatest follower of the Dark Lord, you’ve insulted me by not trying to kill me sooner.”
“You were a bit difficult to track down,” argued Barone as he blocked another spell, before he sent a spiked net at Bella who managed to slice it.
“All you had to do was follow the sounds of shrieking!” yelled Bellatrix. “CRUCIO!”
Barone levitated a chair in front of the spell, to block the impact, before he banished the chair right into Bellatrix. Pieces of wood shattered, as Bellatrix was staggered and Barone shot a noose from his wand but Bellatrix swerved around. The noose wrapped around the bed post, snapping it off.
“That could have been my head,” said Bellatrix in awe before she caught Barone in the chest with a jet of white light that caused him to be momentarily disoriented. “BUT IT WASN’T!”
Barone was flung right through the window, causing glass to shatter everywhere, but he quickly rebounded to his feet as Bellatrix made her way after him, but wall of fire burst in front of Bellatrix, stalling her and a bludgeoning spell shot right through the fire, coming close to cracking Bellatrix’s ribs.
“Please have mercy, Mister Barone, I was only just playing,” said Bellatrix in a childish voice but in an instant, she violently fired a curse at Barone who managed to block it. Had it connected, the Potter line would have been ended once and for all.
Razor sharp spikes burst out of the ground, but Bellatrix blasted them out of the way, before they impaled her in the leg.
“CRUCIO!” shouted Barone and Bellatrix was caught off guard, screaming in absolute pain, for the fifteen seconds Barone placed her under the curse. Barone let up and Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, before she burst into tears but seconds later, she laughed madly.
“That was amusing Barone, using my favorite curse on me, it’s almost as funny as a joke I heard the other day,” remarked Bellatrix. “It goes like this. A witch and a wizard walk into a bar and kill all of the Muggles inside.”
Bellatrix reared her head back and laughed for a few seconds, before she shot a spell at Barone, who blocked it. Several spells were fired, and blocked, as rain splashed down, the rock they were fighting in becoming rather slick as the battle continued. Barone was up against the edge of the cliff as he fired a curse which Bellatrix blocked. At that point, the rocks beneath Barone’s feet crumbled and he lost his balance.
Before he knew it, Barone was hanging from the edge of the cliff for his life.
And we end Chapter Twenty. The next chapter will be up sometime, eventually, with five more chapters to go.