The Real Wizarding World | By : jumpin Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 16634 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 7 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter |
Chapter 16
Harry looked down at Hermione and Emma as they slept for a moment before he turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.
He could feel the magical power coursing through his veins. He had never felt so strong, so powerful before, far exceeding what he expected from the ritual.
He walked through the hallways, stopping in front of a masked figure. “Hello Montague,” he smiled, cruelly.
A look of shock appeared on Graham Montague’s face. How did Potter know who he was?
Harry’s wand dropped out of his sleeve, and he pointed it at Montague’s head, just touching his nose. “Bombarda.”
Montague didn’t even have time to react before his head exploded in a shower of blood and gore. His body slumped to the floor as blood pooled out of the remains of his neck.
Harry looked down at himself, covered in blood, bits of brain matter, and bone. He flicked a piece of skin off his shoulder as he continued down the corridor, making a mental note not to cast the spell at close range again.
The loud bang caused by his spell quickly drew the attention of two of the other masked men in the building.
Harry stood in the hallway watching as McMillan and Warrington rushed into the hallway, wands drawn.
“McMillan, Warrington,” Harry greeted calmly.
They stood there staring at each other for a moment as McMillan and Warrington tried to understand what was going on. Was that Potter, or was it Arcanum? Why was he covered in blood? What the hell was going on?
“Don’t waste your time thinking about it,” Harry warned, knowing what they were thinking. “You don’t have that kind of time.”
“Reducto!” Ernie McMillan shouted, followed quickly by Cassius Warrington, “Incendio!”
With almost contemptuous ease, Harry lifted his wand lazily in front of him. “Protego.”
The two spells smashed harmlessly against the raised shield as Warrington and McMillan stared in shock. Their spells didn’t even seem to weaken it.
“Reducto! Reducto! Reducto! Bombarda!” McMillan chained his spells together, hoping to overwhelm the shield.
Warrington came to the same conclusion, as he sent off a chain of spells as well. “Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!” He shouted.
They watched as each of their spells impacted the shield, but just like their others, it had no effect.
“Pathetic.” Harry shook his head. “I was really hoping for more of a fight from the two of you,” he said as he flicked his wrist.
Harry’s shield exploded outward, barreling down the corridor and slamming painfully into the masked men.
Ernie had the wind knocked out of him, not expecting the sudden move, while Cassius tried his best to push the shield back, but it was no good. Inch by inch, the spell pushed them down the corridor.
Even when Ernie got back up and helped, it did no good. The shield was too big, they couldn’t get around it, and there were no other doors in the hallway to escape through.
They screamed for help when they felt their backs press up against the wall at the other end of the corridor, but no one came.
Their cries become more desperate as the shield pressed uncomfortably against their chests, and the reinforced walls at their backs refused to give.
They could only look into the cold, calculating eyes of the man in front of them, their last thoughts filled with terror as their rib cages collapsed under the strain and pierced their lungs.
Harry flicked his wand, casting a quick “Tergeo” to clean off the bits of blood, bone and brain matter off, courtesy of Montague.
“Two more left,” Harry said to himself as he continued down the hallway, not even sparing a glance at the mangled remains of his former classmates.
He turned the corner, then immediately tilted his head to the side, avoiding a Reducto aimed at his head by just a few inches. “Ah, Draco, just the person I was looking for,” Harry smiled as he flicked his wand, redirecting the Sectumsempra curse Draco cast next against the wall.
“I can’t say that I’m surprised. You, hiding in the corner instead of helping your allies,” Harry taunted.
“Who are you?” Draco demanded, keeping his wand up. He had no idea what was going on. Was it Potter? Was it Arcanum? Did he know they were planning to off him and take off with Potter’s money?
“What do you think?” Harry asked, casting a silent Diffindo, cutting a jagged line across Draco’s cheek, before he could even react.
Draco used his free hand to clutch his bleeding cheek, thinking quickly. “Arcanum, it has to be you. Potter would never kill, at least not like that,” he said as he thought about Montague and McMillan’s screams.
“You found out about what Weasley was planning,” he deduced. “You have to know, I was against it from the start,” Draco lied. “I would never turn against you. I was just trying to find the right time to tell you… when they weren’t listening.”
Harry smiled at him. “Is that so Draco?… You’re on my side.”
“Of course.” Draco nodded his head reverently. “You have always treated me well, not like that blood traitor Weasley. We can go in there and surprise him,” he said, gaining confidence with each word he spoke. “After all, we purebloods have to stick together, right?” he smiled.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Draco. I’m not a pureblood.”
“Oh…” Draco said, his smile faltering a bit. “Well… That’s ok. We’ll be rich enough to call ourselves whatever we want after this job.”
“That’s ok Draco, I’m not really in the market for a partner,” Harry denied, snapping off an “Afflicto,” and catching him in the arm.
“AAAAH!” Draco screamed as he dropped his wand, clutching his broken arm. “Please, Arcanum,” he begged. “You have to believe me. I wanted no part in this.”
“That’s the thing about you, Draco, you’re a liar,” Harry said as he took a step forward.
“No, no… stay back,” Draco said as he backed away in terror.
“You always have been, even back in our school days,” Harry revealed. “Remember when you challenged me to the duel at midnight in our first year? You never showed up. I have been waiting all this time… You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”
“Potter?” Draco asked, his eyes widening. “NO, it can’t be…. Potter would never do this. He would never kill.”
“Pick up your wand Draco, let’s finish this.”
“I can’t… my arm, it’s broken,” Draco shook his head. “Just let me go, please… the Malfoy name still carries some weight in the right circles. I can help you,” he pleaded.
“Use your other arm,” Harry replied coldly. “You didn’t let a ‘broken’ arm stop you after Buckbeak.”
Draco’s mind was racing. How did he know these things? Unless… It finally dawned on him. “You are Potter…” he realized.
“Pick up the wand Draco,” Harry smiled darkly. “I’m feeling generous. I’ll even let you have the first spell.”
Draco reached down, shaking like a leaf as he picked up his wand. His hand shook uncontrollably, his palms were sweaty, he could barely hold on to it.
But before he could do anything, he started coughing. Something wet landed on his shirt. He looked down, his eyes widened. It was blood, his blood. He looked back up at Harry in confusion. He tried to ask what happened, but only coughed more.
“When I told you, I would let you have the first spell… I lied,” Harry smiled as he lowered his wand. The silent Sectumsempra he cast cut through Draco’s chest and lungs like a hot knife through butter.
“I thought you would appreciate it,” Harry said to the last scion of house Malfoy, as he tried to breathe through his shredded lungs. “You did always enjoy your lies.”
Draco could only look up at Potter in horror as he dropped heavily to his knees, then fell flat on his face, eyes wide in shock as he died.
Harry walked past Malfoy’s corpse, making his way down the hallway to the office. He took a moment to straighten up and smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes before he stepped inside.
“Hello Mr. Weasley,” Harry said as he stepped into the office, sitting down in the chair in front of Weasley’s desk.
“Hello sir,” Weasley replied, looking up from the letter he was writing.
“Is that the letter to your family? The one I suggest you write?” Harry asked.
“Oh, yes, sir. Thank you. It was good advice, but I can finish this later,” Weasley said as he put away the letter.
“Nonsense,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Please keep writing. I don’t mind waiting.”
“That’s quite alright sir, I can finish this later,” Percy replied. “The last thing I want to do is waste your time.”
“I insist,” Harry said as he stood up. “You looked like you were almost finished, anyway.”
“… Alright sir, thank you,” Weasley said as he pulled out the letter again, and continued writing.
“There’s a bit of a tradition among the people in our line of work,” Harry said as he made his way to a locked cabinet.
Weasley looked up, watching Arcanum pull out a key from his pocket and open the cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of fire whisky and a set of tumblers.
“Ogden’s Finest, Special Reserve,” Harry said as he sat back down and opened the bottle, pouring them each one.
“Have you finished your letter, Mr. Weasley?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Weasley smiled, putting away the letter as he stared at the bottle. He had never seen a Special Reserve bottle before, only read about them. He wondered if these were the kinds of luxuries he could look forward to from now on.
“Good,” Harry smiled as he pushed one tumbler towards him. “You’ll be happy to know the ritual went off without a hitch, which neatly concludes this job.”
Weasley took a small sip of whisky, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the smoky flavor, picking up on the slight undertone of vanilla, and something earthy he couldn’t quite place. It tasted even better than he imagined it would.
“Good, isn’t it?” Harry smiled, taking a sip as well. “I feel now we can drop the formalities, don’t you, Percy?”
“… Yes,” Percy replied, with a smile, “let’s,” he said, pressing a button under his desk. He had learned a lot from Arcanum, no doubt, but it was time to bring things to a close.
Percy took another sip as he confidently waited for ‘his’ associates to appear, but as the seconds ticked by, a small frown appeared on his face. ‘They should be here by now,’ he thought.
“Something the matter?” Harry asked, feigning ignorance.
“No… not at all,” Percy replied with a forced smile. “I’m just a bit nervous to be branching out on my own, running my own team.”
“I understand,” Harry replied. “I felt exactly as you do now when I first started out.”
Precy nodded and smiled as he pressed the button under his desk again. ‘Where the hell are they?’ He thought angrily. ‘They were supposed to stick to the plan.’
“They’re not coming,” Harry revealed as he took another sip, never breaking eye contact with Percy.
“What? Who’s not coming, sir?” Percy asked, doing his best to keep the growing panic off his face.
“Malfoy, McMillan, Montague, and Warrington, of course,” Harry replied. “And what’s this ‘sir’ business? I thought we agreed to drop the formalities,” he said, dropping the fake smile.
“I… don’t understand,” Percy lied, trying to buy time as he slowly reached for his wand. “The others are cleaning up. They have no reason to be here, sir.”
“There it is again… sir,” Harry repeated. “I told you, you can drop the formalities.”
“Well, I hardly know your real name. What should I call you?” Percy asked, as the tips of his fingers wrapped around his wand. He just needed to keep him talking, then he could catch him by surprise.
“Really? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Harry asked. “Prefect in fifth year, Head Boy, 12 OWLS if I’m not mistaken… I thought you were a little more clever than that.”
“Well, you have me at a disadvantage.” Percy smiled inwardly as he held his wand under the desk, ready to kill the man, but his curiosity won out. “I hardly know anything about you. Every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been under polyjuice.”
“Have I?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Percy replied, growing more confident now that he had his wand at the ready. “Please, enlighten me. Who are you… really?”
“My name… is Harry Potter,” he smiled.
“What?!” Percy asked in confusion, nearly dropping his wand in the process. How was this possible? He had worked for Arcanum for months. He had even seen them both in the same room together on more than one occasion.
Harry held the tumbler in his hands as he stared across the desk at Percy. “I imagine you have quite a few questions, and I’m feeling generous, so go ahead.”
“You’re not Potter, I saw you in the same room, at the same time,” Percy denied, feeling confident now that he had whoever this was at wand point.
Harry said nothing as he pulled out a time turner from the inner pocket of his jacket, letting Percy get a good look.
“Where did you get that?” Percy demanded in surprise. “Time Turners are a class three controlled item.”
“Percy,” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “Do you really want to spend the last few minutes of your life discussing Ministry Policy?… Wait, On second thought, don’t answer that,” Harry said, thinking better of it.
Percy flushed at the dig, contemplating if he should just kill him now, but everything he said made a frightening amount of sense. Why else had Arcanum ordered for two rooms to be prepared instead of just one? It also explained why Potter’s room was not monitored.
“Where are the men?” Percy demanded.
“They’re already dead,” Harry replied.
“Preposterous. They are four fully trained wizards. I would have heard the fighting at the very least,” Percy replied, refusing to believe that his grand plan was falling apart.
“A silencing charm. I placed it on the door more than a week ago,” Harry replied.
“Why would you kill them?” Percy demanded. “You recruited us. You were the one that trained all of us. Without them, you couldn’t have done all this.
“I’ve been operating for more than a year on my own,” Harry revealed. “Coincidentally, going after many of the witches that made things difficult for me during the war. I only brought you on for the last few jobs because I needed people that were expendable for my last job,” Harry explained. “Who better to recruit than my enemies?”
“Enemies? I’ve never done anything to Harry,” Percy denied. “My family took him in after his first year!”
“They did,” Harry acknowledged. “You, not so much. I also saved your sister in second year, fought a basilisk, nearly died in the process, and what did you do after that? You sided with the Ministry, told LIES about me, and when I proved Voldemort was back, you still sided with them!” He finished venomously.
“Enough!” Percy shouted. “Stop this sick game! I know you’re lying! You’re not Harry Potter!” Percy accused, jumping to his feet and pointing his wand at Arcanum.
Harry laughed, sitting calmly in his chair. “Really? Why do you think I’m lying to you?”
“It’s obvious Hermione Granger is Harry’s best friend. He would never do this to her!” Percy accused.
“I would actually,” Harry said, standing up as well. “Shall I tell you why? After all, you’re the only one left I can tell any of this to.”
Percy’s wand shook in his hands. ‘It must be nerves,’ he thought dismissively.
“The ritual,” Harry continued. “I needed a powerful witch to make it happen. Who better than the brightest witch of her age? And what a stroke of luck it was the contract came in when it did and forced me to move up my timetable.” Harry gloated. “I knew that as soon as I saw Emma, I had to have her, too.”
“Then why go through this elaborate plan? Why get yourself kidnapped? Why bring all of us into it? You could have easily grabbed them on your own,” Percy demanded.
“Three reasons actually, I needed them to perform the ritual willingly. They wouldn’t have done it if they knew the truth,” Harry explained.
Percy used his other hand to support his wand hand. He wasn’t used to holding his wand out for this long, and his arm was hurting.
“Alright,” Percy acknowledged. The ritual was a good point. It was much more powerful with willing participants. “What else?”
“They would never let the idea of Arcanum go. They would hunt him to the ends of the earth, and knowing how smart they both are, they would have eventually figured out the truth. Unless… Arcanum and all his men were already dead.”
“When they see this office, with all this paperwork, all these orders, and bank documents, all in your handwriting, they will come to the only logical conclusion available to them,” Harry explained.
“And wouldn’t they wonder why ‘Harry’ killed all the men?” Percy asked, playing along as he wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead.
“Harry didn’t have a choice. They were talking about having their fun with his girls. He saw red, just killed all of them before he could even think. When his mind cleared, there were just dead bodies all around him.”
“That’s quite the imagination you have,” Percy laughed. “When you’re the one being held at wand point.”
“About that…” Harry said, just as the pleasant warmth Percy felt in his stomach from the fire whisky became uncomfortable, then painful. “I’ve poisoned you,” he said, staring pointedly at Percy’s tumbler.
“What?…” Percy said as his wand clattered from his suddenly numb fingers as he collapsed back into his chair. Why was everything hurting? “You… drank it… too,” he wheezed out as he clutched his stomach.
“That’s the thing about basilisk venom,” Harry explained. “If you can survive it, you become immune to its effects, pretty much all poisons, really.”
Percy paled and broke out into a sweat as the poison coursed through his veins. How could it all have gone so wrong? This was supposed to be his moment.
“Seeing as you don’t have much time left, I’ll keep things moving,” Harry said as he sat back down. “The third and final reason is, my appetite is endless. I won’t stop, can’t stop, until I have everything.”
“Hermione and Emma know the Muggles can’t rule themselves without destroying all of us, and the Wizards can’t be left to their own devices either, not after what happened to them. They will come to understand, just as I do, both wizards and Muggles alike need to be ruled.”
The pain was becoming unbearable to Percy now. He clutched his stomach, groaning in agony, but he had to know. “Who are you… really?”
Harry smiled. “That’s a very, very good question.”
“… Tell me,” Percy groaned as he collapsed onto the desk.
“I really am Harry Potter… that’s who I started out as anyway,” Harry explained. “But when Voldemort died the final time, that’s when everything changed. All his magic, his knowledge, it all went to me thanks to our connection. It made me more powerful than I could have imagined, until I started going through his knowledge, where I found out about this ritual. Now I am the most powerful wizard there has ever been.”
Percy’s vision darkened as it became hard to breathe. He couldn’t move, he could barely think, but he could hear what Harry said last.
“I’m glad you finished the letter, Percy. I’m sure it will bring some comfort to your family.”
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