Phenomenal Cosmic Power (Harry Potter/Multicross SI)

[Pakeha]

Oh no! The snake has taken the President hostage. Killing the snake takes precedent now.

Click to shrink...

How did that slip past! The snake was a bigger threat than it first appeared. (Fixed, thanks!)

 

[Pakeha]

"Hey, Little Le Fay!"

"Long time no see!"

I glanced up from my book as Fred and George sat down on either side of me, grabbing croissants from one of the many breakfast platters burdening the Hufflepuff table.

"Long time no see indeed," I agreed, putting down my book. "What have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know, this and that, " Fred said, taking a bite of the pastry. "Umbridge has been giving us trouble though."

"She's recruited Filch to follow us around," George explained. "We've had to cut back on our pranks."

"I've heard," I said, carefully buttering a slice of toast. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the Pinocchio nose incident the other day in History?"

"I wouldn't have a clue what you're talking about," George said with a grin.

"I mean," Fred continued, "how on earth would we know about a muggle fairy tale like that?"

"Well that's a shame," I said, playing along. "If it was you, I would have to commend you for the fast work. Only two months since our discussion on muggle fairy tales and you already have a working spell."

"It's too bad," George agreed. "If it were us, we'd tell you about the Jiminy cricket jinx we came up with over the holidays."

"Jiminy cricket jinx?" I asked.

"It makes the target see and hear little crickets that give helpful moral advice," George explained.

"Umbridge has taken to wearing anti-insect charms," Fred said with a laugh.

"Sounds like you two had an eventful holiday," I said, grinning widely.

"You're telling us," Fred said.

"Umbridge left Hogwarts for the hols," George commented. "So we got the chance to test out a few new joke products without her breathing over our shoulders. We've nearly finished our portable swamp, but the portable jungle is giving us trouble."

"On an entirely unrelated note, do you want a meringue?" Fred asked.

I took the offered sweet and concentrated on it, trying to get a feel for whatever magic had been baked into it. There was something there, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"What's it do?" I asked bluntly, glancing at George.

"Worth a shot," Fred muttered, while George smirked.

"We call them monkey meringues," he said. "That one there turns you into an orangutan. We also have samples that can turn people into howler monkeys and baboons if you're interested."

"I'm good thanks," I said, handing the sweet back. "So, it sounds like you had a busy one."

"You're one to talk," Fred said. "Lee told us he saw you duel at the Diagon Alley event. He said you lost!"

"Well, I've never been in an official duel before," I replied, a tad defensively. "Plus, it was a group duel, so I had to work with my brother, instead of only looking after myself."

"Sounds like someone's a bit of a sore loser," Fred whispered to George, only to get an elbow to the ribs.

"Sucks that you lost," George said, glaring at his brother. "I'm a bit surprised that you haven't learned all that stuff from Dumbledore though…"

"I'm learning how to fight for my life, not put on a performance," I said.

"Oh, Merlin! You sound like Malfoy!" Fred exclaimed. "Quick, George, it's all going to his head!"

I rolled my eyes at his antics, pulling out a clay bead from my pocket.

"Oh no, great one!" Fred faux gasped, eyes on the bead. "I didn't mean it! Honest!"

"You made much progress on those things?" George asked.

"I simplified the rune-cluster," I said, handing it over. "And I've carved it into the bead instead of drawing it on. I can get four, sometimes five uses out of it now."

"You think we can borrow some of these?" George asked.

"Go for it," I told him, taking a bite out of my waiting piece of toast. "I want a few of those monkey meringues, though. And you have to teach me that Pinocchio spell."

"Done," George said instantly.

"Be careful, though," Fred warned. "Umbridge gave us detention because she suspected we were the ones to do it. Don't get caught. Her detention was-"

My eyes flickered to his hand and he paused. I couldn't see any scars or signs of cosmetics or glamour.

"Wait, Carnac…" Fred said slowly. "Do you know about the detention?"

I glanced up to see both the twins were staring at my hands apprehensively.

"I haven't had detention with Umbridge," I said. "Did she make you write lines? With a blood quill?"

"Yeah," George said slowly. "I'm glad you haven't had to go through that. Don't worry too much about us. We found a Roman poultice that can remove cursed scars, so it's not like there's any lasting impact."

I glanced to the front of the hall, glowering at the bloated bitch. Regardless of what the twins thought, that toad had crossed a line.

"Le Fay!"

I spun around to see Professor Moody standing there, watching me.

"Albus wants to see you," he growled. "And what's with the dirty look‽"

"I just found out something," I said as calmly as I could. "You know why Dumbledore wants to see me?"

"He'll tell you himself," Professor Moody said, magical eye swivelling around. "Come on!"

"We'll talk later," I told the Twins as I got up, grabbing my book and leaving my half-eaten breakfast behind. "Until then, keep out of trouble."

"Don't we always," Fred said, looking a bit unnerved by my glower.

"You keep out of trouble as well, Carnac," George said. "Don't do anything stupid."

Stupid. I wasn't going to be stupid with how I handled Umbridge. She'd hurt my friends. I was not going to stand for that.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The walk up to Dumbledore's office was spent in silence. Professor Moody seemed quite content to let me seethe and stew.

Pounding on the door, he limped to the side as soon as it opened, taking his place in the corner while I took my seat before the desk.

Dumbledore watched me with a troubled expression.
"Carnac," he said slowly. "I heard that you participated in the duel at Diagon Alley during the Christmas holidays."

I watched the headmaster closely, confused as to what this was about.

"Yeah," I said. "I did."

"I heard over the wizarding wireless," Dumbledore continued, stroking his beard. "From how Ludo narrated, it was quite a fight."
I watched the headmaster, waiting for him to continue.

"You fought Mr. Avery?" Dumbledore asked. "And Mr. Scabior Turner."

I watched Dumbledore in bewilderment, my anger from before forgotten. I could understand his concern about Avery, but why the emphasis on Scabior? He was a Snatcher in the other time. Barely a Death Eater.

"I fought them," I confirmed after the silence had dragged on for too long. "What's this all about?"

Dumbledore sighed, taking off his spectacles to polish them, not meeting my eye.

"I have a confession to make," he said softly.

"Just get on with it Albus!" Professor Moody growled from his corner.

"I will," Dumbledore said, breathing out. "Last year, shortly before the end of the school year, Harry had a dream."

I watched Dumbledore with narrowed eyes. I knew he'd been keeping secrets, but I'd thought I had a good grasp of what exactly he was keeping from me.

"A dream," I repeated. "Of Voldemort."

It wasn't a question, and Dumbledore knew it.

"Yes. Of Voldemort."

I leaned forward, fingers crossed. Tense. Waiting.

"In his dream," Dumbledore said, picking each word with solemn care, "Harry saw a ritual."

"Oh spare the boy the dramatics," Moody growled.

"Another Horcrux?" I guessed.

"No," Dumbledore said. "It was a ritual to gain a body."

I stared at Dumbledore in confusion.

"Didn't you deal with that?"

"It wasn't the bones of the father ritual," Dumbledore said with a small shake of his head. "From what we can tell, it was one that fully healed the body Tom was inhabiting, as well as rejuvenating his soul."

I sat in silence. Mouth dry. I could see where this was going.

"Tom is back," Dumbledore said. "He's back in Britain, and he has a body."

I sat, frozen in place. Wrestling with the overwhelming desire to scream and curse. Instead, I took a deep breath.

"And you didn't mention anything," I said, voice aggressively polite, even as I glared at the headmaster.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Dumbledore said softly. "I didn't want to add to your burden. You already knew of the other time, and I saw that was a weight on your shoulders. I didn't want to add to it. Not when you were finally getting the chance to be a child.

I bristled at that.

"I haven't been a child for quite a while, headmaster," I said, my words clipped. "Tell me, why bring it up now?"

I knew the answer, but he needed to say it.

"The individual Voldemort has taken over, it was Scabior Turner," Dumbledore said, watching me closely. "I believe Voldemort is now in full control."

"Would you have told me if I hadn't fought him?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore didn't answer, instead, taking off his spectacles again to polish them.

"May I be excused?" I said, standing up.

"You may go," Dumbledore said with a small sad nod. "But Carnac, just know that I had your best interests at heart when I kept this from you."

I forced myself to stay silent as I nodded with restrained politeness to the two of them, and turned for the door.

I knew Dumbledore had been keeping secrets, but I'd hoped that he would at least enlighten me about the fact that Voldemort was alive and well in Britain. Especially after my two prior run-ins with him, and with the target I had on my back as Dumbledore's apprentice.

Walking out into the corridor, I gritted my teeth, putting those thoughts aside. I was too angry now to think clearly. I'd process this when I'd calmed down.

Then, well, I had half a year to deal with Voldemort's return.

 

[Arimai]

Time for a murder spree. All plausibly deniable of course.

 

[Mr. Cloak]

Time for a murder spree. All plausibly deniable of course.

Click to shrink...

Is it a murder spree if they are magical nazis? Or is it pest control?

 

[Andorxor]

It is time to eat the merringue,go into the libary and then escape through L-Space

 

[Pakeha]

"You alright Carnac?" Luna asked as we wandered aimlessly through Hogsmeade, breath steaming in the cold January air. "You look like you have a wrackspurt infestation."

"Yeah, I know," I said, tightening my scarf. "I've just had a lot on my mind recently."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

I glanced ahead to where Neville and Hermione were chatting amicably, making sure they weren't listening in. I didn't want them to overhear this.

"I've been thinking about curses recently," I said. "I've been wondering if there are any that can't be counteracted by moly."

Luna looked thoughtful and I gave her a moment, watching my breath rise in a cloud of steam. I wanted to deal with Umbridge and the Death Eaters, and the easiest way I could think of that didn't put me in harm's way was sending them cursed trinkets. Unfortunately, every spell, jinx, and curse I could find that'd put them out of commission could easily be counteracted with moly.

"It would have to be very dark," Luna said slowly. "The sort of thing that kills someone or rots away limbs. Beyond that, I'm not sure…"

I nodded slowly. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I was hoping to do something subtle with a slow-acting effect so I could avoid getting the attention of Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the Ministry. As soon as people like Umbridge or Malfoy or Johnny Pure-blood from accounting started keeling over from cursed jewellery, there was going to be an investigation, and I didn't want anything that could lead back to me.

"Hey, you two!" Hermione called out. "You want to head to Honeydukes?"

Luna nodded avidly while I sighed.

"You all go ahead," I said. "I'll hang around out here and do some window shopping."

"You sure Carnac?" Neville asked, slowing down to walk beside Luna and me.

"Yeah," I said. "Go ahead."

Neville and Hermione shot each other a look, while Luna began to hum happily to herself.

"Alright," Hermione finally said. "Meet you at the Three Broomsticks in ten minutes?"

"More like thirty minutes," I said with a laugh, nodding at Luna. "Remember last time you went in with her?"

"I wonder if they've ordered in the dirigible plum gum," Luna said dreamily, ignoring my comment.

"Alright," Hermione said, looking unsure. "See you in a bit."

I nodded, watching them go. After my last encounter with Trocar, I just couldn't feel safe in Honeydukes. It was a bit illogical, perhaps, but I just felt so uncomfortable there.

Turning, I began to walk slowly, mulling over my predicament with the Death Eaters. I couldn't curse them, and the only other real option to put them down for good was to kill them, and I wasn't ready to open up that bag of PTSD, mental breakdowns, and danger yet.

"'Scuse me mate."

I turned to see a scruffy man with a scarred face.

"Yeah?" I asked slowly.

"You Carnac Le Fay?"

I watched the man cautiously, ready to flick my wand out at a moment's notice.
"Yeah," I said.

"Imperio!"

Instantly, my suspicion drained away and my wand slipped out of my loose fingers. I felt light, and warm, and calm.

Glancing nervously up and down the empty street, the man pushed me into an alley, before turning to me.

"Put your hood up and follow!"

I tried to fight, tried to struggle, but It was like every thought of resistance was smothered by the tranquility of the spell.

"Imperio," the man repeated, and, once more, I was at peace.

"For fucks sake," the man muttered. "This is going to be annoying."

 

[Pakeha]

I came to shivering.

Glancing around, I tried to move, to get up and reach for my wand, but I was tied up, and as I squirmed, the ropes constricted, digging into my arms and pressing against my chest.

"Look who's finally awake."

I focused again on my surroundings, trying to take in the details. I was in a grotto, leaning against the cold stone. Outside, I could see snow drifting lazily down in the darkness, and the black branches of trees seemed to reach out like gnarled hands.

"How're you feeling half-breed?"

To the side, three men sat around a cauldron, watching me. They were all scruffy and unkempt, faces scarred and dirty.

"Oy! Fucker! I'm talking to you!"

I ignored the speaker, watching the man who'd brought me here as he leered at me. Muttering, the speaker got to his feet, striding over and squatting down in front of me.

"Half-breed. Do you know who I am?"

I recoiled from the smell of his breath, glancing up at his face and freezing.

He grinned at me, showing crooked yellow teeth.

"You do recognise me," he said, voice thick with amusement. "Oy, Bruno, what did you do to him? He looks fucking dopy!"

I stared at the man as he turned away. I knew him. I definitely knew him.
That man was Fenrir Greyback.

"I had to hit him with a compulsion spell," Bruno, the man who'd snatched me, said. "He kept kicking off my Imperio, so I thought if I added that on, it'd keep him down."

I blinked as slowly. My thoughts were beginning to flow a bit more clearly now.

Muttering something, Greyback grabbing my head and forcefully twisting it so he could look me in the eye.

I glared at him, and he grinned.

"You're lucky, Bruno," he said. "The half-breed's looking better now. He's no good to us braindead."

"Fuck you," I muttered.

Greyback's face froze, then, he smacked me in the side of the head hard enough to make me see stars.

"I won't take disrespect," he said, his voice a growl. "Especially not from new members of my pack! The Dark Lord promised you to me-"

"What makes you think I'd ever join you, you fucking rabid shit‽" I swore, and Greyback scowled, hitting me in the side of the head again.

"You'll join me!" he snarled. "You'll have no choice. Not once you're one of us and the whole of wizarding Britain's turned against you."

"Oh stop playing with him, Fenrir," a cold, familiar voice said.

Greyback stood back, and Trocar stepped into the firelight, brushing snow from his robes.

"It's been a while, Mr. Le Fay," he said neutrally. "I've heard you've made much progress in your studies."

"What are you doing here vampire?" Greyback growled, baring his yellow teeth at Trocar. "You gave up your claim on him! He's mine!"

"That may be so," Trocar said, not taking his eyes off me, "but the Dark Lord wanted me to deliver a message."

"Fucker," I swore, struggling against the ropes as I glared at the vampire. "What happened to using Voldemort? Sounds like you're his little errand boy now."

"Au contraire, Le Fay," Trocar said, slipping into french. "I still serve my own goal."

"Speak English you undead fuck," Greyback growled.

"Connerie," I cussed in French. "You were going on and on about me being the 'saviour' to rebuild Britain, and now you're literally throwing me to the wolves!"

Greyback ducked down and hit me in the temple and I was knocked down, slumping against the stone floor, ropes tightening further, as he growled "speak English you fucking half-breed!"

"You think being a werewolf is the end?" Trocar asked. "Once the Ministry and all its stigma are gone, you and you alone will be able to define what it means. For now, though, the Dark Lord has decided it is best for you to see how the Ministry treats those cursed with lycanthropy."

"Fuck you," I rasped, head spinning.

"Half-breed," Fenrir said in a growl, "It's almost time! Corach? Is the potion ready?"

"Yeah, boss," the man at the cauldron said, pulling a ladle out of his robes. "It's done."

"Good," Fenrir said, pulling off his robes. I glanced away as the other two men did the same, tossing the dirty garments aside.

"Vampire! leave!" Fenrir stated shortly, before turning to me. "We all have our causes, half-breed. Mine is to get respect for my kind. The Vampire's is to tear down the ministry, and yours is to serve as a symbol."

"Oh, please stop monologuing," I sneered. "You sound like a fucking maniac."

With a snarl, Greyback kicked me in the gut, and I wheezed.

"I shall see you soon, Mr. Le Fay," Trocar said, as I tried to get my breath back.

As the vampire Disappeared into the snowy darkness, Greyback pulled me from the floor, propping me back up against the rock.

"My kind is threatened," he growled. "Neutered by the Ministry with Wolfsbane and Homorphus Charms. Forced to dance to their tune. You'll find out what it's like soon, Half-breed, and when you do, you'll welcome the Dark Lord."

"Fuck you," I managed, and Greyback grinned at me.

"Still running your mouth, even without your wand and wrapped up like a Christmas present. You'll make a fine wolf."

"Seven minutes boss," one of the men, Corach, called from over by the cauldron.

Wordlessly, Greyback walked back to his robes and pulled a knife out of the folds, striding back to me with a wicked grin.

"Let the hunt begin," he said, cutting the ropes.

"Stupify!" I shouted, clamping my hands around his throat. Red light flashed, and the idiot crumpled.

I turned to the two naked men by the cauldron, baring my teeth.

"Fuck!" the guy who'd kidnapped me, Bruno, swore as he rushed for his discarded robes, while the other, Corach, hastily dipped his ladle into the cauldron and choked back a mouthful of the scalding liquid.

"Stupify!" I roared, aiming at Bruno, but he stumbled, the spell missing him. I summoned his robes as he reached them, but he ignored the flying fabric, snatching his wand from the stone floor.

"Ossio Dispersimus!" he yelled, and I threw up his robes in time to block the spell.

"Diffindo!" Corach snarled, slicing the fabric in two and stepping forward as Bruno retreated to the cauldron. "Diffindo!"

I tried to bat the spell aside, but without my wand, I was too slow. I clenched my hand and hissed through gritted teeth as blood began to run from the slash along my forearm.

"Take that you little fecker!" Corach crowed, and I snarled, raising my bloodied hand.

"Bombarda!"

The spell hit him and slid across his bare shoulder like oil on water, exploding against the stone wall.

"You're dead now you little shit," Bruno called, and I glanced at the cauldron to see him striding forward, wand in one hand and ladle clenched in the other like a cudgel.

"You'd better run, little fey," Corach said in a singsong voice. "It's almost moon-rise!"

I glanced at the cauldron in realisation as my confidence bled away. They'd brewed up something to counteract the effects of spells! What sort of bullshit was that?

"Iron-hide potion, you little shit," Bruno said mockingly. "Just like the Beast of Gévaudan drank during his transformations! The Dark Lord provides for his followers."

"You'll soon be one of us," Corach added. "If I don't tear you to pieces first!"

Turning, I ran. Behind me, the two began to laugh loudly, calling out insults as I fled into the darkness.

I was in some sort of forest, and stumbling over branches and clumps of dead bracken, I tried to get away.

I was too panicked to think clearly.

I was going to die! Ripped to shreds by Puck-damned werewolves! Or else, turned into one.

I picked up my pace. Clutching my bleeding arm. Blood that'd mark my trail.

Almost instinctively, I shifted to my animagus form, only to hiss in pain as I landed on my wounded front leg. I changed back, sprawled out on the forest floor, and in the pale moonlight, I could see the gash was wide open, sticky with blood.

Behind me, I heard screams. Screams that were quickly becoming more like howls.

Stumbling to my feet, I continued to run. Maybe I could climb a tree? Up ahead, I could see an opening. I made towards it.

Behind me, the animalistic cries of pain stopped. All I could hear was my ragged panicked breathing. Then, a cold howl echoed out through the dark forest, two more soon joining the chorus.

I glanced at the open ground ahead, then, picked a tree and tried to climb, but my bloody arm was useless, and my hands were numb from the cold.

I heard them coming, and, once more, I shifted into my animagus form.

Fur bristled and teeth bared, I turned, just in time to see three wolves burst into the clearing.

They circled where I was, snorting and sniffing at the blood speckled across the ground and snapping at me. Confused.

I hissed back, ready to fight. I couldn't cast spells in my animagus form, and they were bigger than me, but if I was going to die, I would leave my mark on them.

The largest wolf, a gnarled thing with shaggy grey fur, snarled at me, stepping forward. I lunged, biting down on cold flesh.

The wolf yelped, flicking its head, and I felt a tooth snap, tasting blood. The mutt looked at me in confusion, a chunk of its nose hanging by a flap of skin.

Snarling, a younger, rust-coloured wolf jumped forward, snapping, and I leapt back, ignoring the pain in my front leg.
I knew what I had to do now.

Bounding forward, I wove away from the wolves, as they watched, preparing to chase.

Then, I shifted back into a human.

"Arbor Locomotor!" I screamed, grabbing the closest tree root, as the werewolves snarled and lunged.

Changing back into my animagus form, I scrambled forward as the werewolves barked and snarled in exuberance at the hunt. They knew I was their prey now.

Hissing, I wheeled around, and the wolves slowed, padding forward. Confused at my boldness.

I heard the creaking sound of my spell taking effect on the tree, and chittered again, even as the werewolves glanced up nervously at the rattling branches above.

They didn't have a chance to move before, around them, roots tore themselves out of the ground as the tree I'd touched came to life.

Scampering forward, I heard the wolves yelping and woody sounds, and everything smelt earthy as clumps of cold clay and loam were shaken free by the roots.

I ran, and didn't stop until I was clear of the trees. It was only then I looked back.

The tree, a silver birch, was still tearing its roots free. Two of the werewolves were slowly being crushed, eyes popping and bones crunching, while the third one, the one with the rust-coloured fur, was growling at the tree, hackles raised.

Sneezing at the overwhelming smell of dirt, I scampered on top of a lichen-covered rock, and stood on my hind legs trying to get my bearings.

I was on an outcrop at the ridge of a hill. The forest I'd just escaped hid most of the valley behind its tree-line, but through the bare foliage, I could make out towers, outlined against the silvery surface of a lake.

I was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Glancing back down at the moving tree, I saw that rusty the wolf had given up trying to intimidate the tree and was sniffing the air, glancing my way.

I shifted back into my human form and knelt on the cold stone, feeling drained. I still had enough magic left to kill this fucker though.

The werewolf snarled, baring its teeth. I glared at it, grinning angrily as it began to stalk slowly forward, the shadows of the forest cloaking it in darkness, giving it an air of primal horror.

I waited, refusing to flinch or shiver.

The wolf padded towards me, skirting along the edge of the forest, and slowly, I began to draw on the rock, tracing out runes in my blood, watching the wolf as it ducked behind a clump of dead bracken.

Finally, it snarled and began to run. I waited.

It picked up its pace, but I didn't act.

Seven meters. Five meters. Then-

"Igneus Labus!"

As its paw touched down on a frost-capped rock, it sank through, revealing the glowing red interior.

The wolf let out a high-pitched whimper, eyes wide in shock, as it keeled forward, hitting a large flat boulder at my feet, even as its paw remained embedded in the molten stone.

I leapt back as the bloody runes I'd hastily scrawled on the rock went from red to black. Ice hissed, bursting upwards in a cloud of vapour, lichen, and moss shrivelled and smoked, and the werewolf tried to stagger to its feet, even as the rock it was lying on began to crease and melt.

My grin was frozen in place as I watched. Horrified.

The air was suddenly hot and dry, and smelled of smoke and burnt hair and cooking flesh. The werewolf tried to stand, even as the rock slowly sunk and bulged under its weight, splitting and allowing the molten interior to ooze out.

The werewolf began to cry. A raspy sound of something that is in the process of experiencing its vocal cords being burnt away. I watched, frozen in place, feeling sick.

I had to do it. It was either them or me.

Eventually, the sounds stopped, leaving only the crackle of burning foliage as the molten rock flowed into the Forbidden Forest below. The tree I'd animated was struggling. Trying to untangle its branches and flee.

I felt drained, but I wasn't done yet. Staggering along the ridge, away from the slagged outcrop and burning trees, I glanced at the valley and the sleeping village of Hogsmeade beyond the Black Lake.

Trocar was an undead monster, and as such, he couldn't do things that wizards took for granted. Like apparating.

He'd be heading to the nearest Floo fireplace. And I was not letting him get away.

With bared teeth, I remembered I had one more trick up my sleeve. Slowly, I rose into the air, grinding my teeth at my stupidity. I'd forgotten about my ability to fly.

Puck-damned idiocy at its finest.

Ascending higher and higher into the freezing air, I leaned forward.

I wasn't going to let that fucking Puck-damned leech of a corpse escape.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I spotted Trocar by pure chance, a dark shape following the Hogwarts express tracks towards the Hogsmeade station and the sleeping village beyond.

I dropped from the sky, landing before him, clutching my arm. I felt cold and clammy and tired and unbelievably pissed off.

Stopping, Trocar stared at me. Face betraying nothing.

"Mr. Le Fay," he said silkily. "You escaped."

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Each breath felt like my lungs were on fire, and all I could think of was my pure hate for this undead leech.

"Blood loss," Trocar commented absently, glancing at my arm. "Magical exhaustion, and curse damage from the imperio as well. I'm surprised you're still standing."

I tried to raise my good arm, to blast Trocar, but it felt leaden.

Slowly, Trocar turned his head, looking to where the ridge-line where flames were just beginning to appear.

"Impressive," he said.

I glared at the vampire, struggling to breathe. I was so tired.

"For the record," Trocar said, stepping forward. "It was the Dark Lord who wished for you to be changed. Not me."

As he brushed past, I bared my teeth and gathered my strength, and turned to face his retreating form.

"Transmogrify," I gasped.

Trocar froze, and a sharp crack rang through the air. I watched in immense satisfaction as he folded, collapsing to the tracks, twisting to face me, his face caught in a silent scream.

I sank to the ground, hands shaking as Trocar spasmed, arms and legs snapping loudly as they were bent by the magic.

That was the last thing I saw as, slowly, the world faded to black.

 

[Badhumanism]

Good, god dam, work Le Fay!
That is a sweet sweet revenge on that Blood sucking asshole.
It is great, a high cuality chapter as allways!
Keep Up the good work!

 

[Jason Tooley]

So did he just take out Trocar and Greyback?

 

[Kris-71854]

He somehow managed to survive and kill Greyback as well. Remus will owe him one for that. Killing Trocar was just good sense. That guy was the cause of all this crap. He could have been relaxing for these last few years if it wasn't for that guy.

 

[Arimai]

Good, god dam, work Le Fay!
That is a sweet sweet revenge on that Blood sucking asshole.
It is great, a high cuality chapter as allways!
Keep Up the good work!

Click to shrink...

Quality.

It is highly amusing that a brain dead inbred, twit like Greyback and Trocar died because they forgot the law of the jungle. Never corner a wounded animal, or if you do kill it immediately. The second being there is always a bigger, or more poisonous predator.

 

[ptbptb]

Everybody seems to be counting Trocar as dead, but Transmogrify isn't a killing spell. It's a body alteration spell. We won't know exactly how things turn out until next chapter, but hopefully Trocar is safely disabled and doesn't get away.

 

[Arimai]

Everybody seems to be counting Trocar as dead, but Transmogrify isn't a killing spell. It's a body alteration spell. We won't know exactly how things turn out until next chapter, but hopefully Trocar is safely disabled and doesn't get away.

Click to shrink...

Vampires count as nonliving matter. He probably turned him into an appliance or furniture of some sort. I'd burn it immediately upon awakening.

 

[Andorxor]

You do not hunt Fey.Fey hunt you.

 

[ptbptb]

Vampires count as nonliving matter. He probably turned him into an appliance or furniture of some sort. I'd burn it immediately upon awakening.

Click to shrink...

If vampires counted as nonliving matter Transmogrify wouldn't have worked in the first place. Original flavour Harry Potter vampires are living, part-human beings. For example, HP vampires have a potential life expectancy much the same as wizards. Now I don't know if vampires are treated differently in Phenomenal Cosmic Power but unless they AND the spell are different then Trocor is still alive.

 

[Pakeha]

Groaning, I stared at the plain white ceiling above, dazedly.

"I'm never doing that again," I muttered to myself, slowly trying to move.

Shifting, I took in my surroundings. I was in a cot in a sterile-looking room. The air smelt like mint and bleach.

Sighing, I leaned back into my pillow, exhausted by the brief movement. Why was I so tired? Forcing myself to sit up further, I looked down and froze.

My arms were green. Slowly, I shifted them, looking for the slash in my arm, but it was gone. Satisfied, I twitched my fingers, weirded out by the coloration.

"Oh good, you're awake."

I glanced up as a man in the green robes of a healer strode into the room, clipboard in hand.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Le Fay," he asked.

"Like shit," I croaked, blinking to stay awake.

The healer hummed, fishing around in his robes, pulling out a small vial.

"Wideye Potion," he said, uncapping the vial. "It tastes rotten, but you should feel all the more better for it. Open up."

I stared at the man incredulously. Did he really expect me to drink that?

"Where am I?" I croaked.

The man raised an eyebrow at my refusal to take the potion, before shrugging and placing it on the bedside table.

"St Mungo's," he said, glancing at his clipboard. "You've been through quite the ordeal, Mr. Le Fay. We've just finished dealing with the green thumb infection - your skin should clear up in a week - and the atrophied muscles."

Atrophied muscles? I shifted uncomfortably.
"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Five months," the healer said, giving me a short glance. "It's mid-June now."

I stared at him in shock. Five months‽
"Why was I out so long?" I rasped.

"You were brought in with a nasty cut on your arm, blood loss, and hypothermia," the healer said, consulting his clipboard. "As we treated you, we kept running into complications. Magical exhaustion, nerve damage in your arms, curse backlash - which all contributed to the green thumb infection. Then, there was the Imperio damage to your mind, and a rather obscure curse that the vampire left on you."

"Trocar?"

"That's the one-"

"What happened to him?" I demanded, trying weakly to prop myself up. My Transmogrifian curse should have immobilised him, twisting his limbs until they couldn't work, but it wouldn't have been enough to kill a vampire. And it was a dark curse as well.
I could only hope Dumbledore found me before the Ministry.

"The vampire was found twisted up like a pretzel," the healer said, watching me closely. "I heard the Ministry had him put down… we believe the curse backlash you suffered was from whatever you cast on it."

I stared at the healer warily. So, people knew I'd done dark magic. Not good.

The only bright point was that I didn't have to worry about Trocar anymore.

"As I was saying," the healer continued, keeping a suspicious eye on me. "We spent ages trying to dislodge the vampire's curse from your mind; 'Achilles Glory.' It would have led to you seeking out glory and conflict until you died. We didn't want to wake you until we were sure it was gone."

I grimaced. Even after I'd tortured him, Trocar had still tried to shape me into some sort of hero.

"After that, we had to deal with the green thumb infection," the healer continued, "and the atrophied muscles were sorted last Tuesday. You should be alright now, Mr. Le Fay. Your Master has sent some people to pick you up, if you want me to bring them in?"

I nodded slowly, mouth dry. By the sounds of it, I was lucky to be alive.

Shooting one final glance at the Wideye Potion on my bedside table, the healer nodded my way and stepped out.

"He's ready to see you two now."

As soon as the two people stepped in, I panicked. A tall black man and a woman with mossy-brown hair, both dressed in the scarlet trenchcoat-style robes of Aurors.

Fearful thoughts flashed through my mind, but before I could act, the woman's hair shifted to bright pink.

"Wotcha, Carnac," Tonks said, giving me a small grin. "You feeling better?"

"I'll leave you lot be," the healer said, handing the clipboard to the man, and closing the door.

Mind still racing, I stared at the two. It'd been five months. I didn't know what had changed.
"Tonks," I asked, "in the kitchens, who did we use to hang out with?"

Tonks looked at me blankly for a moment, while the man nodded approvingly.

"Cedric and Charlie," she said, watching me with a raised eyebrow.

"He's a smart one," the man said in a slow, baritone voice. "I see you already know Tonks. I'm Auror Kingsley. Professor Dumbledore sent us to pick you up."

I watched them with a wrinkled brow. I was starting to get a migraine.
"What's happened?" I asked. "What's the situation."

The two shared a look.

"You-Know-Who has gotten bolder," Tonks said hesitantly. "It's mostly just small attacks, but they're becoming more and more frequent. Azkaban and the Ministry are under constant guard to prevent a breakout or-"

"We can discuss this when we're safe," Kingsley said, pulling a bag out of his robes and tossing it to me. "We'll be taking muggle transportation to a safe-house, so you'll need to dress the part. Your wand is in there as well, in case we run into trouble."

"Trouble?" I asked.

"Death Eaters," Tonks explained, running her hands through her hair as it shifted from yellow to green to purple. "We're also worried about the Ministry. They wanted to take you into custody. They're trying to distract people from the war by painting you up as an upcoming Dark Lord. Some of the things Trocar said, and the curse you used on him, and the signs of blood magic that started the forest fire-"

"Tonks," Kingsley said. "Now is not the time."

"The Ministry may still send someone," Tonks said, ignoring Kingsley. "People like Malfoy are pushing for your arrest. We're only allowed to take you to the safe-house because Dumbledore has authority due to the Apprenticeship-''

"Auror Tonks!" Kingsley said. "We can discuss this later! Get dressed Carnac. We need to move."

Nodding, I watched as they left, before pulling out my wand to tap the vial of Wideye potion, checking it was safe. Satisfied, I hastily downed the foul-tasting concoction, instantly feeling more attentive.

I needed to be wide awake and alert.

I had a feeling something bad was going to happen.

----------------------------------------------------------------

In the hallway, Tonks and Kingsley had transfigured their robes into muggle ware. Kingsley sporting a business suit, while Tonk's outfit just screamed punk-rock.

"Let's go," Kingsley said simply, as I stepped out.

I nodded, still clutching my wand. I wished I had a holster, or even long sleeves to hide it in. A few orderlies and waiting visitors shot me nervous looks as we passed them in the corridors, but I ignored them.

After my struggle to deal with Trocar and the werewolves wandlessly, I was not going to be caught like that without it again.

----------------------------------------------------------------

We made it outside before everything went wrong.

Stepping out of the glass storefront of the condemned Purge and Dowse department store, I was on high alert, and I could see Tonks was too by the way she kept glancing around nervously and running her hand through her hair. Only Kingsley seemed calm, surveying the street with cool professionalism.

"We're parked one street over," Tonks said, as if trying to reassure me. "Kingsley's great at dealing with the Muggle side of things-"

"Eye's forward, Tonks," Kingsley said softly. "Focus on getting to the car. Carnac, if anything happens, run."

I nodded, feeling a knot in my stomach. From the way they were talking, it sounded like there was a threat of attack. And I didn't think the Ministry was corrupt enough to get away with sending Hit Wizards.

Glancing around, I felt exposed. Surrounded by muggles in their form-fitting clothes, and the alien noises of cars and the city, I felt on edge. It was all just so foreign.

My anxiety was interrupted by three loud, sharp cracks.

The muggles froze, screamed, and glanced around fearfully as the three men in black-hooded robes and silver skull masks stepped forward, wands raised.

"Avada Kedavra!"

I acted on instinct, all those lessons with Dumbledore on battle magic kicking in.

"Accio!" I screamed, as Tonks fired a stunner, and Kingsley ripped a postbox from the curb to halt the death curse.
The guy to the left was ripped off his feet as my spell clipped his robes, flying forward, right into my clothes-controlling jinx.

The remaining two Death Eaters were caught off guard by the viciousness of the counterattack. The idiots probably thought this'd be like a duel!

They'd learn!

Tonk's spell sparked against the lead Death Eaters shield, while, with a depulso, Kingsley sent the postbox careening towards the pair, letters fluttering everywhere as the second stooge managed to halt it with an Arresto Momentum.

Still struggling, the Death Eater I'd summoned was dragged under a parked car by his writhing robes. I ducked behind it, shooting a quick stunner at him, before a rather wicked thought crossed my mind.

The two Death Eaters were completely focused on their duel with Tonks and Kingsley, although, now they were putting up a fight, firing killing curse after killing curse, forcing my escorts on the backfoot as they summoned car doors and street signs to block the green flashes, firing back spells when they could.

"Snufflifors!" I muttered, ducking down to fire a pink burst of light under the car at the unconscious Death Eater, before summoning his shrunken, unconscious form into my pocket.

I'd deal with him later.

Looking over the boot of the car, I almost got a stunner to the face. The constant killing curses were putting Tonks and Kingsley on the offensive.

Gritting my teeth, I tapped the car.

"Vocar Arktos!"

Instantly, magic flashed across it, replacing the red paint with black skin and whitish fur.

The Death Eaters froze as the polar bear opened its mouth, peeled back its lips, and roared, showing sharp white canines.

The first Death Eater went down, too distracted to shield himself from Kingsley's stunner. The last one was quick to act. As the bear reared up, he fired an Avada Kedavra into its chest, casting a shield spell to block Tonk's jinx even before the detransfigured car fell back to the pavement with a crash.

He surveyed us all for a second, before, with a crack, he apparated away.

"You'd better run!" Tonk's called angrily, while Kingsley sent ropes spinning around the unconscious Death Eater with a quick Incarcerous, before glancing at me.

"Tonks," he said, looking up and down the empty street. "The Hit Wizards will be here soon, and the last thing we need is for the Ministry to know about Carnac's underage magic. Follow plan B."

Tonks nodded firmly as Kingsley transfigured his scuffed suit back into his Auror robes with a flick of his wand, fishing around in them for a note which he handed to me.

"Read it quickly,'' he said.

I glanced at the strip of parchment hastily, before pausing, needing to reread it to be sure I wasn't seeing things.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

I handed the note back, and Kingsley incinerated it with a flick of his wand, disappearing the ashes.

"You knew we'd be attacked," I stated as Tonks put a hand on my shoulder.

"Suspected," Kingsley said quickly. "But Voldemort didn't send this lot. They were probably looking to earn his favour by capturing you.

Down the street, I heard a series of loud cracks as men and women in scarlet Auror robes apparated onto the scene.

"Go," Kingsley said calmly, putting his wand away and turning towards them. "I'll see you tonight at the Order meeting."

Tonks nodded firmly, and with a gut-wrenching twist, we apparated away, and I tumbled to the ground in an abandoned carpark.

"Well then," I said, slowly getting to my feet. "That was… eventful."

"Let's get moving," Tonks said, glancing around. "We don't want to be out in the open like this for too long."

I nodded, following her as we strode towards the street.

What exactly had happened while I'd been out?

 

[ComradeChairman]

Wait, if you can just drag people around by their clothes like that during firefights, why are they blocking killing curses with mailboxes? Just block with the enemy. Two birds one stone.

 

[Arimai]

Time for the purge. Hunt every one of Riddle's death cultists down along with known sympathizers. Go old school Black Hand on them. Capture, interrogate, infiltrate and assassinate every last one of them! Screw Dumbledore's velvet glove approach to mass murderers and rapists.

 

[ptbptb]

Wait, if you can just drag people around by their clothes like that during firefights, why are they blocking killing curses with mailboxes? Just block with the enemy. Two birds one stone.

Click to shrink...

Because mailboxes are less likely to dodge / fightback and the penalty for failing to block an AK is usually rather permanent.

My Transmogrifian curse should have immobilised him, twisting his limbs until they couldn't work, but it wouldn't have been enough to kill a vampire

Click to shrink...

Called it. Nice to see that he was properly killed off shortly afterwards, though.

 

[Shadeworld]

Called it. Nice to see that he was properly killed off shortly afterwards, though.

Click to shrink...

Alledgedly.

The way things usually work out with the Ministry I wouldn't rule him out as dead until I personally see the body turned to ashes.

 

[Pakeha]

Sitting in the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London, I nursed a glass of pumpkin juice while staring at the mound of letters before me with trepidation.

"That the last of them?" Ginny Weasley asked from across the table as she fed my new mouse, shoving crumbs of toast into the white rodent's cage.

"Hopefully," I muttered, picking up one and waving my wand over it. "What did Rita say to set them off this time?"

Picking up that morning's copy of Daily Prophet, Ginny glanced at the front cover with a small frown.

I hadn't really spoken to her since my third year, but now that I was trapped in Grimmauld Place with only the Weasleys, Harry, and the occasional Order of the Phoenix member to talk to, we'd had the chance to properly make each other's acquaintance.

"Looks like she's doing another follow-up piece," she said with a scoff. "Honestly! You'd think they'd have found something else to talk about."

"What's the rumour she's spreading today?" I asked, opening the letter and scanning the contents. "Wait, let me guess; she said I'm the second coming of Grindelwald."

"Yup," Ginny said, tossing the paper aside. "I do not get why you don't just burn them…"

"They're interesting," I said with a grin. "Listen to this; 'You're a sorry excuse for a Death Eater Go Hang!' Short, sweet, and to the point."

Ginny made a face, still feeding the mouse, while I tapped the next envelope with my wand and put it aside, unopened.

"Also I can't just burn them," I stated, gesturing to the unopened envelope. "The wards don't stop letters containing potions and alchemical concoctions. I don't know what happens to boil-powder when it's burned, and frankly, I don't want to find out."

Ginny rolled her eyes, and I tore open the next envelope in the pile, pulling out the letter.

"This one's from Hermione," I said, answering Ginny's curious glance. "It looks like she's been enjoying her time in Australia."

"She been up to much?" Ginny asked. She didn't really like Hermione, but entertainment was entertainment, even if it was just discussing someone else's holiday.

"She visited a bunyip farm apparently," I said, reading through the letter. "Sounds like she's enjoying herself, though she's also a bit peeved at the Daily Prophet."

"Is she going to be over there for much longer?" Ginny asked, sticking her finger into the mouse's cage.

"She'll be back before school starts," I said, finishing the letter. "The trip's mainly for her parents to get a feel for the country, in case the war turns ugly and they need to get out of Britain."

Ginny made a face and muttered something about running away, but I ignored her, moving on to the next letter. It was good Hermione had actually brought her parents on board in this timeline.

"Blighter!" Ginny cussed, and, glancing up, I saw she was staring at the mouse cage in shock, holding her finger.

"What happened?" I asked.

Ginny held up her finger, still glaring daggers at the mouse.

"It bit me!"

Wandlessly, I lifted up the cage, pulling over to watch the white mouse inside.

It glared back at me defiantly.

"I see why you call it Scum," Ginny said, rubbing her finger. "It reminds me of my brother's rat."

"How so?" I asked cautiously, lowering the cage to the table and checking to see if the muffliato charm on it was still there. "From what I heard, your brother's rat was a lazy glutton."

"I mean, yeah," Ginny agreed, glancing at the cage. "But your mouse just seems too smart for its own good. Where did you even get it?"

"I picked it up shortly after I got out of St Mungo's," I answered honestly.

"So, it's a wild mouse?" Ginny asked.

"You could say that."

The conversation lapsed into silence as Scum began to clean his whiskers and I continued to go through the junk mail.

"I never took you as a mouse person," Ginny eventually said.

"It was more a spur-of-the-moment choice to get him," I said, tossing aside the final letter. "I'll probably let him go before Hogwarts, though. Too many cats and owls."

Ginny nodded, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice absently.

"Luna sent me a letter as well," I said eventually, shifting the topic away from the caged rodent. "She's also out of the country. In Sweden."

"Yeah," Ginny said, not looking up. "Her dad and her are looking for the crumple-horned snorkack…"

The conversation trailed off into a dreary silence as I finished off the last of the letters and sat back. Bored.

You got any plans for today?" Ginny eventually asked, flipping through the Daily Prophet disinterestedly.

"Neville's swinging around," I said with a shrug. "Which means his dad and Sirius will disappear into the sitting room for a few hours to talk. I'm going to try and copy some spells from the Black Library while they're distracted."

"Do you need me to keep Harry and Ron busy?" Ginny asked, looking up in interest.

"It should be okay," I replied. "If we take over the Library, they'll find somewhere else to hang out. That should give me an hour to do my thing before they get bored and try and spy on us. You know what the twins will be doing?"

"They didn't tell you?" Ginny queried with a raised eyebrow.

"They asked if they could have some privacy and shut me out of the bedroom," I said with a frown.

Ginny giggled.
"They're probably blowing stuff up?" she said with a grin. "That's why they didn't tell you."

"You're kidding, right?" I demanded. Just because I was happy to share the room with the twins didn't mean I was happy for them to bomb the place.

"No," Ginny said with a firm head shake. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're making sure not to destroy your things. They're using the time here away from mum to work on their prank products. I think they're trying to make fireworks."

"Fireworks‽" I repeated. "Indoors‽"

"Probably," Ginny said with a shrug. "I'm sure they're being very careful."

I looked around incredulously, and as my eyes alighted on Scum, a thought sprung into my mind.

Pulling the cage closer, I watched the little white mouse as it stared at me defiantly.

Some sort of bomb, or explosion, or something with a large enough blast radius…

It could work.
I couldn't hunt down Death Eaters one by one. I didn't have the time, and if I left Grimmauld place, I'd have Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix after me as well as the Ministry and Tom-I-love-anagrams-Riddle.

But if I drew Voldemort and his pureblood stooges into one spot, well… wizards didn't have WMD besides fiendfyre and Bombarda Maxima.

They wouldn't see it coming if I blitzed them.

"Don't you dare zone out on me, Le Fay," Ginny said, leaning over to poke me sharply and draw me back to reality.

"Sorry," I said with a cheeky grin.

If all went to plan, I could finish off my time in the wizarding world with a bang.

Literally.

 

[ej190]

This is a fun little story I've stumbled across.

It's pretty decent all things considered altho there are a few issues I'm not a fan of, the biggest of which being the massive time skips that happen when Le Day gets tossed into a coma.

It feels like he's barely been in the HPverse long enough to accomplish much and his time of departure is almost here

Also, you just gotta love how ROB still fucked him over even if they dangled a carrot infront of Le Fey and told him they'd play nice; between the new prophecy and Trocar being an ass his 5 years in Hogwarts ended up becoming anything but peaceful...

Fun story all things considered, curious to see how the other two worlds will push back against Le Feys inclusion

 

[S_CR055]

What does WOMD mean? Weapon of Mass Destruction?? That acronym is just WMD unless I'm misremembering

 

[Pakeha]

What does WOMD mean? Weapon of Mass Destruction?? That acronym is just WMD unless I'm misremembering

Click to shrink...

Your memory is fine. Thanks for pointing that out.

 

[Pakeha]

Staring up at the dark ceiling above, I waited.

Grimmauld Place was silent, with only the distant creaking of settling wood and the snoring of the twins in the neighbouring beds audible in the black stillness of the night.

I couldn't sleep. It was September the First; my last day in Magical Britain and the day I planned to take out Voldemort. How could I sleep‽

Satisfied the twins weren't going to wake any time soon, I slowly sat up, easing myself out of bed and wincing every time the springs squeaked and the bed frame creaked.

Standing, I reached into the darkness, feeling for the enchanted glasses I'd left on my bedside table.

The room sprung into focus as I put them on. The furniture glowed faintly in the gloom, highlighted by the magic of the charms and enchantments.

A bit more confidently now, I padded over to the trunk at the bottom of George's bed, and, with a small spark of magic, I dispelled the locking charm, slowly easing the lid open.

Fred and George had been happy to help when I'd explained why I wanted them to design a more deadly firework. Unfortunately, they'd made me promise not to carry out my plan without them, even going so far as to hide their creation.

Now though, on the eve of my battle, I needed the explosive. I was not going to put Fred and George in harm's way.
Summoning my wand, I levitated the contents of the trunk up, gently placing it on the floor, before lifting the false bottom.

There, packed neatly away, were all the twin's joke supplies, among which were several fireworks, each wreathed in a glow of cheerfully sparkling magic.

I ignored them, carefully picking up my prize. It looked physically identical to the others, but, with my enchanted glasses, I could see the magic was tinged with a harsh, flickering light.

Quickly, I transfigured a discarded rolled-up magazine into the shape of the firework and placed it carefully into the trunk, before moving everything back in place, closing the lid, and applying the locking spell. That done, I stood, grabbing a bag from my bedside table and stepping out into the hallway.

Downstairs, the grandfather clock in the study began to chime, and I paused at the landing to listen as it rang out once, then twice, then thrice, before silence fell once more.

The stairs squeaked as I padded down them, but I was too tired and too deep in thought to care about masking my footsteps.
It was only at the threshold of the Black Library that I paused to listen for any movement in the silent household, before stepping in and closing the door behind me.

Taking off the glasses, I rubbed my eyes tiredly, casting a quick Muffliato charm on the door, before turning on the Victorian era gas lamps with a small burst of magic.

Slumping in the armchair by the window, I glanced at the firework in my hand.

Fred had mentioned using an alchemical recipe from Byzantine when I'd asked what they were doing to give it the extra oomph. I hadn't been able to get anything else out of him before George appeared to drag him away, but from the flickering flame-like magic that surrounded it, I was pretty sure the firework I was holding was primed with Greek Fire.

It was funny, really. The world of Percy Jackson, one of the other worlds I'd asked the ROB to send me to, had a magical WMD with the same name.

The smile slipped from my face as I thought about the world of Percy Jackson. It was a place where Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Norse gods, and monsters roamed modern America. A world where heroes died young and the protagonists had to overcome multiple potential apocalypses.

Sighing, I put the firework into the bag I'd brought with me, and stared up at the ceiling, watching as moths begin to flutter around the light.

I wasn't ready. The deities of that world put Tom Riddle to shame. The muggle world of England felt foreign, so I had no idea how I'd survive mid-200s muggle America. And, if I derailed events as thoroughly as I had done here, then I may have to live through the literal end of Western Civilisation.

Taking a shaky breath, I leaned forward, putting my head in my hands.

The ROB had said I could take my possessions with me, but there was barely anything worth bringing. Clothes? Wizarding robes would stand out like a sore thumb. Potions? I wasn't sure if they even worked in the next world. Money? All I had were Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, which were all wizarding coins. An enchanted tent or a bewitched trunk would probably have been useful, but I wasn't allowed to leave Grimmauld Place, and asking someone to pop down to Diagon Alley to buy one for me was just asking Dumbledore to start snooping.

All I planned to take was a bag with an undetectable extension charm, my wand, my grimoire, Dumbledore's book on enchanting, a few of the Twin's prank products, and the clothes on my back.

The door creaked open and I glanced up as Harry Potter stepped into the room.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked suspiciously, looking around.

I stared at The Boy Who Lived in surprise. He'd been avoiding me all summer and now was the time he decided to ambush me?
"What're you doing up?" I asked. "It's three o'clock in the morning."

He narrowed his eyes at me.
"I hate it when you do that," he finally said.

I stared at him. Confused.
"Do what?"

"Act like you're better than me."

I watched The Boy Who Lived at a loss at what to say.

"I don't think I'm better than you," I said eventually.

"You treat me like a child," Harry snapped. "Heck, you treat everyone like children; Fred, George, Luna, your friends. They don't notice or don't care, but you do!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Harry wasn't done.

"Just because you're Dumbledore's apprentice doesn't mean you're somehow above the rest of us! You're still a kid as well!"

"When did I ever say I was better than you?" I challenged.

Harry threw his hands up in the air.

"It's the way you act! You act aloof! You remember what you said the first time you talked to me and Ron‽ You told us to shoo! Who does that!"

"Aloof‽" I said, showing my teeth. "Look who's talking. I've been here all summer, and you haven't come over to interact with Neville or me at all! You've spent the whole time off moping with Ron! Even Ginny's been in here with us while you two were off who knows where!"

"Why would I want to hang out with Neville after he and Hermione spent a whole year accusing me‽" Harry countered. "After they went around saying I was the descendant of Slytherin‽"

"Oh grow up," I said with an eye roll.

"No, you grow up, Carnac!" Harry snapped. "You're no better than the rest of us! Why else would you be here‽"

"Excuse me‽" I said, squinting at him. "What in Puck's name do you mean by that‽"

"You act all high and mighty," Harry said, "but admit it! You're scared of Voldemort's return! That's why you're here instead of out with the Order, fighting!"

"I plan to do plenty of fighting!" I growled.

"And you're not scared‽" Harry asked mockingly. "Is that why you're sitting here in the middle of the night 'moping.'"

"Of course I'm bloody scared!" I snarled. "Voldemort's a fucking Dark Lord! And let me tell you something! You think you had it bad with a few people calling you a descendant of Slytherin‽ Try having all of Magical Britain calling you the coming of Grindelwald!"

Harry scowled at me darkly.

"So you're not a dark magic user‽ So didn't torture Trocar?" he asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

"You heard the phrase 'like a trapped rat!'" I sneered. "I'd just been through hell because of that undead leech!"

"And you'd escaped," Harry said hotly. "You didn't have to use dark magic on him, and yet you did-"

"What would you have had me do?" I interrupted. "Let him go?"

"How about not using dark magic!" Harry said. "Stun him or use a rope spell or something!"

I growled. He didn't know what I'd been through!

"Dumbledore wouldn't have taught you that spell!" Harry continued pressing his advantage. "So that means you learned it on your own! What other dark magic have you learned!"

I pushed aside my anger and frustration, clenching the armrests of the chair in a white-knuckled grip.

"How do we know you're really on our side!"

I stared at Harry long and hard as he scowled at me defiantly. The boy-who-lived. A boy with a black and white view of magic.

I grinned, feeling myself relax. Harry's resilient glare became more cautious as I leaned back in my seat, mulling over the words that'd hurt the most.

"I didn't take you as one to buy into Rita Skeeter's articles," I said casually.

Harry flushed red. He hated that reporter for what she'd said about his godfather.

"This has nothing to do with her!" he growled. "This is about you using dark magic!"

"So you don't trust Dumbledore's judgment then," I said, going for the low blow. "If he thought I was Dark, he'd have ended the apprenticeship."

Harry stared at me in disgust.

"Harry," I said, softening my voice. "Let me make something very clear to you. I will never join the side of that abomination that murdered your parents."

My voice was a whisper now as Harry Potter stared at me. Stone-faced.

"Never accuse me of siding with that Bastard ever again," I continued in a whisper.

Harry watched me for a long, tense moment, before giving me one short nod, and turning away.

As the door to the Black Library closed, I sighed, feeling bone-tired.

Harry Potter didn't like me. I'd suspected as much from him avoiding me all summer, but that was intense. What in Puck's name was he even doing up at this hour?

At least we could both find common ground on our hatred of Tom shredding-my-soul-is-healthy Riddle.

Massaging the bridge of my nose, I stood shakily.

I had a big day ahead, and I needed to sleep.

Hopefully, that little argument didn't wake anyone up.