Harry Potter A Hellish Imprint
- Thread starter SotF
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If Quirrel is already dead, there's no one to let the troll in...
unless you have him face Quirrel and the Troll in the same night, but by the time Quirrel has tried and failed to pass the obstacles, the troll would have killed Hermione.
Also, remember that the mirror isn't down there until after Christmas...
unless you have him face Quirrel and the Troll in the same night, but by the time Quirrel has tried and failed to pass the obstacles, the troll would have killed Hermione.
Also, remember that the mirror isn't down there until after Christmas...
The only reasons Quirrel didn't get past Fluffy was because Snape interrupted him, and he didn't seem to want to kill Fluffy.
If Snape was otherwise occupied, say recovering from mental trauma caused by a certain red-hatted individual, then there is a likelyhood that Voldemort would not hsve been as hesitant about killing Fluffy to get past - the other traps wouldn't be too difficult for a Muggle-raised powerful wizard to get past, so the Troll could have, as canon, been released as a distraction from what was going on in the Third Floor corridor.
But I'm stumped about how to explain away the mirror bit ... perhaps Dumbledore moved it up to that room around Christmas for Harry to discover in canon, to show him how to work it, then moved it back down ...
If Snape was otherwise occupied, say recovering from mental trauma caused by a certain red-hatted individual, then there is a likelyhood that Voldemort would not hsve been as hesitant about killing Fluffy to get past - the other traps wouldn't be too difficult for a Muggle-raised powerful wizard to get past, so the Troll could have, as canon, been released as a distraction from what was going on in the Third Floor corridor.
But I'm stumped about how to explain away the mirror bit ... perhaps Dumbledore moved it up to that room around Christmas for Harry to discover in canon, to show him how to work it, then moved it back down ...
Well if Harry thinks he can take Quirrel on in a straight fight, theres no real need for the mirror.
Just have a glass cube with the stone in it and a buncha wards/traps/whatever on it, and just as Quirrel gets through the last trap and goes to open the latch, Harry comes in and attacks. Bit of duelling, bit of taunting, bit of falling on and shattering glass box, bit of taunting while Harry figures out that the stone prodding his back is what Volde wants, and decides to shatter it, and viola!
Have Neville or some other character tell the headmaster that he saw Hermione run off to the girl's bathroom before dinner, and you're fine. Or just have Hermione not run off crying
Just explain it all, so we're not left wondering about plot holes. Maybe a series of short snippets...
Include a snippet something like:
Ron makes fun of Hermione. Before she has a chance to storm off, Harry makes an incredibly derogatory comment towards Ron that makes Hermione feel better. Alucard has never needed a motive to insult people, and he might be considering Hermione as useful for some reason or other.
and another like:
The professors were after the troll, his magic told him that no one else was on the forbidden floor.
Dog manages to bite/claw Quirrel, drawing blood, before the dark wizard kills the dog and hops down the trap door.
Harry smells the oddest blood, human mixed with something very dark and something very light (unicorn), and decides to investigate.
alter the Troll one so that Hermione is for some reason out and about after Harry's confrontation with Voldemort (Harry was laughing right outside her window, so she went to report the crazy student about to suicide to a prof), and the Troll happens across her as she's on her way.
Just have a glass cube with the stone in it and a buncha wards/traps/whatever on it, and just as Quirrel gets through the last trap and goes to open the latch, Harry comes in and attacks. Bit of duelling, bit of taunting, bit of falling on and shattering glass box, bit of taunting while Harry figures out that the stone prodding his back is what Volde wants, and decides to shatter it, and viola!
Have Neville or some other character tell the headmaster that he saw Hermione run off to the girl's bathroom before dinner, and you're fine. Or just have Hermione not run off crying
Just explain it all, so we're not left wondering about plot holes. Maybe a series of short snippets...
Include a snippet something like:
Ron makes fun of Hermione. Before she has a chance to storm off, Harry makes an incredibly derogatory comment towards Ron that makes Hermione feel better. Alucard has never needed a motive to insult people, and he might be considering Hermione as useful for some reason or other.
and another like:
The professors were after the troll, his magic told him that no one else was on the forbidden floor.
Dog manages to bite/claw Quirrel, drawing blood, before the dark wizard kills the dog and hops down the trap door.
Harry smells the oddest blood, human mixed with something very dark and something very light (unicorn), and decides to investigate.
alter the Troll one so that Hermione is for some reason out and about after Harry's confrontation with Voldemort (Harry was laughing right outside her window, so she went to report the crazy student about to suicide to a prof), and the Troll happens across her as she's on her way.
The redheaded brat was becoming an annoyance of sorts Harry mused as the fool insisted on tormenting one of the few members of magical society he viewed as at least partially competent.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
The cerberus had fled at the sight of a crimson eyed hound passing through the door and dropping to the ground with a dull thud.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
I'm using a different setup as a temporary measure, seemingly glass pillar with nothing visible within, however each of the mirrors reflect the same four stones though each has a different one as a different color. However, the trick would come with finding the correct one, but in this case the trick is to notice something else. The stones reflect a 5th one that is hidden there as well.
You only have one chance to get it right, however Harry gets blasted through the pillar.
You only have one chance to get it right, however Harry gets blasted through the pillar.
Shattering glass signaled the beginning of the fight between the ones who viewed themselves as immortals.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
Harry remembered...
He remembered the sound of the television being interupted with flashes of multicolored light.
He remembered what had happened, pain everywhere as the black clad crazies with skull white masks attacked the house when he was barely even four years old.
He remembered the feel of hot and sticky splashes of fresh blood as his relatives died, only moments before something structural was hit, bringing the roof down on top of him.
He remembered being trapped for nearly two days amidst the rubble with the corpses of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.
He remembered the miraculously intact and operational television constantly replaying the video.
He remembered the line that had been burned into his brain, "It's a nice night isn't it..."
And the world would never be the same...
xXx
The institute was the first place he remembered after that night, the doctors and nurses were patching the pale boy up from his ordeal.
He clutched a crimson fedora that he had seen in the lost and found box, an item that had been in it for years according to the custodian of the building and had let him keep it.
In the dark his mind tried to mix what had been written into it with what was real, his magic taking what he believed of himself to be real and making it reality.
It was only a day before he was aimed to be discharged to a foster family that the obliviators were forced to come as a Hellhound was apparently there only to see it change back into a small boy with now crimson eyes.
xXx
Harry worked with his powers, trying to return them to what he believed in his now healed head had been their way.
The bullies had not yet learned their lesson as the boy in the hat seemed to dissolve into a black mist and the screams had begun.
xXx
Olivander was starting to worry, he'd never had someone who was seemingly incompatible with every single wand he owned.
He'd started wondering about some of the want alternatives after the brother wand of Voldemort's seemed to set itself alight when the boy had picked it up.
Trying to reaffirm his conviction about having a wand for everyone, he went through the back cabinets to pull out some of the items various wizards had used in place of a wand or staff. Staves were rare mainly because of their size and the difficulty to make the correct motions with them and were also more expensive due to the materials required to make them, as such they were rare. Others had preferred daggers, the metal being another difficult thing to work with though they were far superior to wands with ritualistic magics.
A small box caught his eye, one of the few things his father had experimented with in his later years.
Some of the muggleborn children of nobility had taken to utilizing gloves made with some of the magical cloth of various creatures and marked with ashes worked into them as they were made, leaving them to appear th color of the cloth until used when markings unique to the specific wizard would appear.
In more recent years several of the various hunter mages employed by other countries had found a use for them although the locals rarely had any, viewing them with disdain as something new and preferred the visible displays of the more visible spellcasting.
Of course the gloves had other benefits, namely in that they freed the hands from requiring them to hold onto something.
He brought the box over to the crimson clad boy and started to lay them out only to find the first one working.
"Interesting, very interesting," the wand maker said to himself as his customer left a moment later, "Magical silk and the ash of a Transylvanian vampire."
A moments pause as he replaced the box in its place.
"He will definitely be one to watch."
xXx
An eleven year old dressed in an older style coat and fedora of blood red boarded the Hogwarts express.
Harry wasn't quite sure if he believed the large man about being a wizard, but figured it was worth a glimpse if nothing else.
It was only after the hat was placed upon his head did the faculty begin to think anything was really off about the strange boy dressed in crimson as the Sorting Hat went into hysterics before screaming that the kid could be in any house he chose as long as it never needed to go near him again.
xXx
It had only taken a moment Snape realized, only an instant to realize just how badly he had fucked up.
Potter had come waltzing into his classroom like he owned the place wither the old hat and sunglasses only to take a front row seat.
As the class began he had tried in vain to crack that fanged smile for the first several minutes, only to realize that the damned boy knew the answers to all of the questions he loved to use to destroy the hopes of the youngest Gryffindors.
In a moment of annoyance he had tried to peer into the crimson eyed boys head.
And that is when the situation went straight to hell for the few seconds he saw into it.
He saw a castle on a peak surrounded by what seemed to be a forest.
The scent of freshly spilled as well as older blood mixed with even more foul stenches brushed his senses followed by the screams of the dead and dying merged with begging for mercy and vain threats.
He saw the boy clad in crimson, sitting atop a spire of the gothic fortress' tallest tower sipping casually from a wineglass that held a crimson liquid to viscous to be any wine he knew of.
Severus glanced down from his perch only to realize that the immense forest below was not made of trees as he had first believed. Each of them was a man, woman, or child impaled on a pike, trapped in unending agony at the pleasure of this insane being watching.
He tried not to vomit as his dark eyes glanced up to see the blood moon rising over distant peaks.
Snape screamed as the connection broke, much to the suprise of most of his class.
He felt bile rising in his throat and instant before he threw up into a thankfully empty cauldron and collapsed to his knees.
His mind couldn't comprehend exactly what it was that he had seen and babbled to himself while crawling to a corner.
The initial panic started to die down and he glanced up to see the little horror lower his shades to reveal eyes the color of freshly spilt blood and the demonic smile spread as he held out of of the candies that were seemingly ever present with the madman.
"Bloodpop?"
xXx
The centaurs were confused.
Firenze had reported about his contact with an unusual young human who had engaged in a running battle after a wraith of some sort.
The stars were being even stranger in their clues about Harry Potter.
Jupiter, Mars, and Pluto all bright and seeming to grow stronger in the light of the blood moon.
A combination they had never seen before, a king of death and war while born of blood.
If nothing else, the fate of the boy would be interesting to watch.
xXx
The redheaded brat was becoming an annoyance of sorts Harry mused as the fool insisted on tormenting one of the few members of magical society he viewed as at least partially competent.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
xXx
The cerberus had fled at the sight of a crimson eyed hound passing through the door and dropping to the ground with a dull thud.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
Shattering glass signaled the beginning of the fight between the ones who viewed themselves as immortals.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
His head was swimming.
Thousands of silvery shards had pierced his body from all directions.
His eyes flashed, the red dimming, changing back the dull emerald as he landed on the floor in a heap.
Blood was pooling around him, inching almost like a fleeing army scattering from a destroyed fortress.
His vision was dimming, and Harry knew it would be over.
The magic that had followed the image it had been forced to take was ending, and taking with it the form he'd taken. Fangs receding as the parasite attached to a human host laughed after the single eerie green spell had flashed across the room.
Harry's magic was strong enough to resist the curse itself, but at the same time the resistance had sent him flying across the chamber to crash through the mirror.
His hand, feeling so cold wrapped aroung the blood red stone through the gloves.
It was powerful, but he would not give it to the sorcerous trash that had raised a wand against him. A fool who reveled in the power, not bothering to learn the true powers that would prove your power.
His mind flashed back to the collapsing room at his Uncle and Aunts with the flashes, a similar death had taken then to the one that was now taking him.
Only he had someone gloating over his broken and battered body.
A decision was made and he slammed the crystalline stone that could grant immortality and wealth beyond the most imaginative wishes to the white marble of the floor.
Voldemort's eyes widened and face paled as he screamed in outrage, raising his wand for another attempt at torturing the boy.
The sound of crystal almost like the sound one would expect from a jar of coins resounded deafeningly in the would be vampires ears.
A crimson spell rocketed towards him as he laughed, the mocking tone he had come to make his own.
And then it was silent.
The dark wizard walked towards the downed boy and his eyes widened again as the crystal shards seemed to reduce themselves to a liquid, merging with the life blood of the boy.
He stepped backwards as the flow of crimson seemed to retreat, returning to the being as some shards seemed through the clothes.
Swirling darkness flooded the room, making it hard to breath as the heir of Salazar Slytherin was sure he could hear the steady beat of a heart that grew louder almost as a drum pounded on parade that was nearing.
Harry's mind remembered being found that day all so long ago as power, unbelievable power, rushed through his veins as liquid fire.
His magic reacted, pushing back into the familiar patterns his body had adapted itself to years before. A swirling stream of blood carried his cloths upwards, rising high while his form disintegrated and then reformed in midair with a blast of raw power that set off what seemed like every single ward up to even Diagon Alley.
People all over the world remembered seeing what looked like droplets of blood stain the moon for the night.
Voldemort was panicking as he watched the mist begin to dissipate to reveal the hellfire eyes of his foe.
Fangs glistened in the dim light that had cut through the devilish fog.
"Beautiful night," Harry seemed to ask himself as his eyes locked with the darkened specter of a wizard, "Isn't it?"
The twin screams of the teacher and the parasite echoed through the ancient halls of the castle.
xXx
Dumbledore and Snape had responded to the tripping of the wards around the philosophers stones hideaway.
The image they had come across was not what they had expected, and one that had the wand Albus Dumbledore falling from a limp had to clatter across the blood stained stones while Severus Snape took three steps backwards.
Quirrel was dead, that much was instantly certain, the silver pike that seemed to come from the stonework itself had penetrated the man to extend the bloody tip high into the air while pointing at the shattered mirror that was now without glass.
The sound of mad laughter reached them from high above, muffled partially by the fortress.
xXx
Atop the tallest tower, Harry Potter laughed at the foolish one who had dared to challenge him.
The wraith had managed to escape him, but it was no matter.
He would face Voldemort once more, let the piece of filth run and plan.
Nothing could stop a true No Life King.
A distant scream alerted him to another problem for him to deal with.
xXx
Hermione Granger had gone from scared to fucking terrified.
The red clad boy had simply stood there, she assumed it was because he was frozen in fear, when he was hit by the massive club of the troll.
Sunken and beady eyes turned towards her once more only for the creature to pause at a loud laugh and a wave of black mist that flooded the room, giving the entire place the stench of freshly spilt blood.
An explosion, no, she corrected herself, a gunshot echoed through the bathroom and the halls as the darkness cleared to reveal the boy standing there.
The tattered school robe fell to reveal the red coat of an almost victorian design and the hat in place upon his head as the being seemed to finish reassembling himself.
"That..." she stammered, searching through all of her knowledge to try and uncover what the hell this maniac was doing only to find nothing to explain it, "That's impossible."
The troll was screaming in pain, collapsing backwards in a heap against the ruined line of sinks with a deafening shriek of pain and outrage as she noticed that the weapon had cleaved the beasts legs off at the knees.
"Stop Whining!" the crimson clad psychotic ordered in an annoyed tone, "All I did was cut off your stupid legs!"
The madman had yet to draw a wand, in fact she couldn't seem to remember him ever using one in class, though she had remembered a notation about a few wizards and witches using gloves instead of wands.
"Come on you worthless piece of garbage!" he snarled, impatience written plainly in his features, "Stand up and come at me! Don't make me waste my entire night"
The troll was panicking now, trying to scramble away from this being that now filled the room with darkness and anger.
"Pick up your club and attack me! Do something!"
The slow clap of footsteps as he walked towards the troll, interrupted her thoughts of which one of the two was the bigger monster.
"Come on, your still moving!" Harry demanded of the thing, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY!"
When it managed to get back a few steps the boy believing himself to be a No-Life-King sighed and raised his gun one more time and pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang and the feel of warm, black blood splashing across her face sent her screaming once more, the scream covering the bang of the doors opening to allow the teachers entrance to the room.
All of them froze as the boy calmly slipped his weapon back into the shadows of his coat and slip a candy from a pocket to slip into his mouth. A gloved hand holding another out to the professors.
"Bloodpop?"
And then he was gone, after getting no response. The teachers and headmaster frozen in shock at the dead troll and moving unconsciously away from the more dangerous predator.
"It's such a beautiful night," came the chime of his voice, "Don't you agree."
He remembered the sound of the television being interupted with flashes of multicolored light.
He remembered what had happened, pain everywhere as the black clad crazies with skull white masks attacked the house when he was barely even four years old.
He remembered the feel of hot and sticky splashes of fresh blood as his relatives died, only moments before something structural was hit, bringing the roof down on top of him.
He remembered being trapped for nearly two days amidst the rubble with the corpses of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.
He remembered the miraculously intact and operational television constantly replaying the video.
He remembered the line that had been burned into his brain, "It's a nice night isn't it..."
And the world would never be the same...
xXx
The institute was the first place he remembered after that night, the doctors and nurses were patching the pale boy up from his ordeal.
He clutched a crimson fedora that he had seen in the lost and found box, an item that had been in it for years according to the custodian of the building and had let him keep it.
In the dark his mind tried to mix what had been written into it with what was real, his magic taking what he believed of himself to be real and making it reality.
It was only a day before he was aimed to be discharged to a foster family that the obliviators were forced to come as a Hellhound was apparently there only to see it change back into a small boy with now crimson eyes.
xXx
Harry worked with his powers, trying to return them to what he believed in his now healed head had been their way.
The bullies had not yet learned their lesson as the boy in the hat seemed to dissolve into a black mist and the screams had begun.
xXx
Olivander was starting to worry, he'd never had someone who was seemingly incompatible with every single wand he owned.
He'd started wondering about some of the want alternatives after the brother wand of Voldemort's seemed to set itself alight when the boy had picked it up.
Trying to reaffirm his conviction about having a wand for everyone, he went through the back cabinets to pull out some of the items various wizards had used in place of a wand or staff. Staves were rare mainly because of their size and the difficulty to make the correct motions with them and were also more expensive due to the materials required to make them, as such they were rare. Others had preferred daggers, the metal being another difficult thing to work with though they were far superior to wands with ritualistic magics.
A small box caught his eye, one of the few things his father had experimented with in his later years.
Some of the muggleborn children of nobility had taken to utilizing gloves made with some of the magical cloth of various creatures and marked with ashes worked into them as they were made, leaving them to appear th color of the cloth until used when markings unique to the specific wizard would appear.
In more recent years several of the various hunter mages employed by other countries had found a use for them although the locals rarely had any, viewing them with disdain as something new and preferred the visible displays of the more visible spellcasting.
Of course the gloves had other benefits, namely in that they freed the hands from requiring them to hold onto something.
He brought the box over to the crimson clad boy and started to lay them out only to find the first one working.
"Interesting, very interesting," the wand maker said to himself as his customer left a moment later, "Magical silk and the ash of a Transylvanian vampire."
A moments pause as he replaced the box in its place.
"He will definitely be one to watch."
xXx
An eleven year old dressed in an older style coat and fedora of blood red boarded the Hogwarts express.
Harry wasn't quite sure if he believed the large man about being a wizard, but figured it was worth a glimpse if nothing else.
It was only after the hat was placed upon his head did the faculty begin to think anything was really off about the strange boy dressed in crimson as the Sorting Hat went into hysterics before screaming that the kid could be in any house he chose as long as it never needed to go near him again.
xXx
It had only taken a moment Snape realized, only an instant to realize just how badly he had fucked up.
Potter had come waltzing into his classroom like he owned the place wither the old hat and sunglasses only to take a front row seat.
As the class began he had tried in vain to crack that fanged smile for the first several minutes, only to realize that the damned boy knew the answers to all of the questions he loved to use to destroy the hopes of the youngest Gryffindors.
In a moment of annoyance he had tried to peer into the crimson eyed boys head.
And that is when the situation went straight to hell for the few seconds he saw into it.
He saw a castle on a peak surrounded by what seemed to be a forest.
The scent of freshly spilled as well as older blood mixed with even more foul stenches brushed his senses followed by the screams of the dead and dying merged with begging for mercy and vain threats.
He saw the boy clad in crimson, sitting atop a spire of the gothic fortress' tallest tower sipping casually from a wineglass that held a crimson liquid to viscous to be any wine he knew of.
Severus glanced down from his perch only to realize that the immense forest below was not made of trees as he had first believed. Each of them was a man, woman, or child impaled on a pike, trapped in unending agony at the pleasure of this insane being watching.
He tried not to vomit as his dark eyes glanced up to see the blood moon rising over distant peaks.
Snape screamed as the connection broke, much to the suprise of most of his class.
He felt bile rising in his throat and instant before he threw up into a thankfully empty cauldron and collapsed to his knees.
His mind couldn't comprehend exactly what it was that he had seen and babbled to himself while crawling to a corner.
The initial panic started to die down and he glanced up to see the little horror lower his shades to reveal eyes the color of freshly spilt blood and the demonic smile spread as he held out of of the candies that were seemingly ever present with the madman.
"Bloodpop?"
xXx
The centaurs were confused.
Firenze had reported about his contact with an unusual young human who had engaged in a running battle after a wraith of some sort.
The stars were being even stranger in their clues about Harry Potter.
Jupiter, Mars, and Pluto all bright and seeming to grow stronger in the light of the blood moon.
A combination they had never seen before, a king of death and war while born of blood.
If nothing else, the fate of the boy would be interesting to watch.
xXx
The redheaded brat was becoming an annoyance of sorts Harry mused as the fool insisted on tormenting one of the few members of magical society he viewed as at least partially competent.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
xXx
The cerberus had fled at the sight of a crimson eyed hound passing through the door and dropping to the ground with a dull thud.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
Shattering glass signaled the beginning of the fight between the ones who viewed themselves as immortals.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
His head was swimming.
Thousands of silvery shards had pierced his body from all directions.
His eyes flashed, the red dimming, changing back the dull emerald as he landed on the floor in a heap.
Blood was pooling around him, inching almost like a fleeing army scattering from a destroyed fortress.
His vision was dimming, and Harry knew it would be over.
The magic that had followed the image it had been forced to take was ending, and taking with it the form he'd taken. Fangs receding as the parasite attached to a human host laughed after the single eerie green spell had flashed across the room.
Harry's magic was strong enough to resist the curse itself, but at the same time the resistance had sent him flying across the chamber to crash through the mirror.
His hand, feeling so cold wrapped aroung the blood red stone through the gloves.
It was powerful, but he would not give it to the sorcerous trash that had raised a wand against him. A fool who reveled in the power, not bothering to learn the true powers that would prove your power.
His mind flashed back to the collapsing room at his Uncle and Aunts with the flashes, a similar death had taken then to the one that was now taking him.
Only he had someone gloating over his broken and battered body.
A decision was made and he slammed the crystalline stone that could grant immortality and wealth beyond the most imaginative wishes to the white marble of the floor.
Voldemort's eyes widened and face paled as he screamed in outrage, raising his wand for another attempt at torturing the boy.
The sound of crystal almost like the sound one would expect from a jar of coins resounded deafeningly in the would be vampires ears.
A crimson spell rocketed towards him as he laughed, the mocking tone he had come to make his own.
And then it was silent.
The dark wizard walked towards the downed boy and his eyes widened again as the crystal shards seemed to reduce themselves to a liquid, merging with the life blood of the boy.
He stepped backwards as the flow of crimson seemed to retreat, returning to the being as some shards seemed through the clothes.
Swirling darkness flooded the room, making it hard to breath as the heir of Salazar Slytherin was sure he could hear the steady beat of a heart that grew louder almost as a drum pounded on parade that was nearing.
Harry's mind remembered being found that day all so long ago as power, unbelievable power, rushed through his veins as liquid fire.
His magic reacted, pushing back into the familiar patterns his body had adapted itself to years before. A swirling stream of blood carried his cloths upwards, rising high while his form disintegrated and then reformed in midair with a blast of raw power that set off what seemed like every single ward up to even Diagon Alley.
People all over the world remembered seeing what looked like droplets of blood stain the moon for the night.
Voldemort was panicking as he watched the mist begin to dissipate to reveal the hellfire eyes of his foe.
Fangs glistened in the dim light that had cut through the devilish fog.
"Beautiful night," Harry seemed to ask himself as his eyes locked with the darkened specter of a wizard, "Isn't it?"
The twin screams of the teacher and the parasite echoed through the ancient halls of the castle.
xXx
Dumbledore and Snape had responded to the tripping of the wards around the philosophers stones hideaway.
The image they had come across was not what they had expected, and one that had the wand Albus Dumbledore falling from a limp had to clatter across the blood stained stones while Severus Snape took three steps backwards.
Quirrel was dead, that much was instantly certain, the silver pike that seemed to come from the stonework itself had penetrated the man to extend the bloody tip high into the air while pointing at the shattered mirror that was now without glass.
The sound of mad laughter reached them from high above, muffled partially by the fortress.
xXx
Atop the tallest tower, Harry Potter laughed at the foolish one who had dared to challenge him.
The wraith had managed to escape him, but it was no matter.
He would face Voldemort once more, let the piece of filth run and plan.
Nothing could stop a true No Life King.
A distant scream alerted him to another problem for him to deal with.
xXx
Hermione Granger had gone from scared to fucking terrified.
The red clad boy had simply stood there, she assumed it was because he was frozen in fear, when he was hit by the massive club of the troll.
Sunken and beady eyes turned towards her once more only for the creature to pause at a loud laugh and a wave of black mist that flooded the room, giving the entire place the stench of freshly spilt blood.
An explosion, no, she corrected herself, a gunshot echoed through the bathroom and the halls as the darkness cleared to reveal the boy standing there.
The tattered school robe fell to reveal the red coat of an almost victorian design and the hat in place upon his head as the being seemed to finish reassembling himself.
"That..." she stammered, searching through all of her knowledge to try and uncover what the hell this maniac was doing only to find nothing to explain it, "That's impossible."
The troll was screaming in pain, collapsing backwards in a heap against the ruined line of sinks with a deafening shriek of pain and outrage as she noticed that the weapon had cleaved the beasts legs off at the knees.
"Stop Whining!" the crimson clad psychotic ordered in an annoyed tone, "All I did was cut off your stupid legs!"
The madman had yet to draw a wand, in fact she couldn't seem to remember him ever using one in class, though she had remembered a notation about a few wizards and witches using gloves instead of wands.
"Come on you worthless piece of garbage!" he snarled, impatience written plainly in his features, "Stand up and come at me! Don't make me waste my entire night"
The troll was panicking now, trying to scramble away from this being that now filled the room with darkness and anger.
"Pick up your club and attack me! Do something!"
The slow clap of footsteps as he walked towards the troll, interrupted her thoughts of which one of the two was the bigger monster.
"Come on, your still moving!" Harry demanded of the thing, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY!"
When it managed to get back a few steps the boy believing himself to be a No-Life-King sighed and raised his gun one more time and pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang and the feel of warm, black blood splashing across her face sent her screaming once more, the scream covering the bang of the doors opening to allow the teachers entrance to the room.
All of them froze as the boy calmly slipped his weapon back into the shadows of his coat and slip a candy from a pocket to slip into his mouth. A gloved hand holding another out to the professors.
"Bloodpop?"
And then he was gone, after getting no response. The teachers and headmaster frozen in shock at the dead troll and moving unconsciously away from the more dangerous predator.
"It's such a beautiful night," came the chime of his voice, "Don't you agree."
You have Harry saying 'beautiful night' twice in a row, basically asking the same question and the end of two successive scenes. feels a little awkward.
I also think it would work better if you broke the voldemort fight back up into two pieces... stick a little scene after Harry gets hit and before you go into Harry's perspective.
Doesn't really matter what it is, though you may address a readers wondering of "what's happening to Hermione" during that... maybe something about a professor running across the Troll, fighting it briefly, then having to escape pursuit after being disarmed (I don't think Trelawney could take a Troll on, even with her wand). up to you, it just keeps on sticking in my mind as a plot hole (and I hate plot holes)
I also think it would work better if you broke the voldemort fight back up into two pieces... stick a little scene after Harry gets hit and before you go into Harry's perspective.
Doesn't really matter what it is, though you may address a readers wondering of "what's happening to Hermione" during that... maybe something about a professor running across the Troll, fighting it briefly, then having to escape pursuit after being disarmed (I don't think Trelawney could take a Troll on, even with her wand). up to you, it just keeps on sticking in my mind as a plot hole (and I hate plot holes)
She managed to scream and turn to run before the impact of a massive, oaken club.
The screech of pain drew the attention of the other professors while the brutish troll lumbered off down the hall.
The dull thump of impact ended the scream as she skidded down the hall.
"Sybill," she heard as her vision darkened.
"Merlin!" Minerva hissed before yelling for anyone who could hear her, "Someone get Poppy!"
xXx
Hermione Granger ran after launching one of the better hexes she knew.
She remembered a lot of what had been discussed about trolls in the defense book.
They were strong and tough, capable of feats of strength and endurance that outdid any human, being outclassed only by giants and dragons in both and adding Minotaurs for the strength portion.
With the ability to regenerate over time made them difficult to kill as their vitals healed lightning quick, though beyond that they weren't that faster than humans except they could regrow lost parts if they had enough food.
The last part was their extreme resistance to magic, it was the fact that the standard method for dealing with rogue trolls was to remain out of reach and bombard it with the most destructive spells in their arsenal until it went down from the sheer amount of damage that would eventually get through.
In fact, the only thing that helped in dealing with them was that they were slow and stupid while making big targets.
"Not good," the witch whispered to herself as she skidded to a halt watching the staircase move away to another position at the end of the hall and turned to move a different way.
She barely made it to the side passage and dove under a swing of the club that shattered the stone of a corner. It was far to close for comfort as she felt the damage to her elbows while climbing to her feet to escape.
Her feet hurt and she gasped for air as it crashed down the hallway like a freight train as she tried to find an unlocked door, finally settling for one of the bathrooms..
The door locked behind her and she hid under some of the sinks, taking cover an instant before the door was reduced to splinters and the beast forced its way into the room.
The screech of pain drew the attention of the other professors while the brutish troll lumbered off down the hall.
The dull thump of impact ended the scream as she skidded down the hall.
"Sybill," she heard as her vision darkened.
"Merlin!" Minerva hissed before yelling for anyone who could hear her, "Someone get Poppy!"
xXx
Hermione Granger ran after launching one of the better hexes she knew.
She remembered a lot of what had been discussed about trolls in the defense book.
They were strong and tough, capable of feats of strength and endurance that outdid any human, being outclassed only by giants and dragons in both and adding Minotaurs for the strength portion.
With the ability to regenerate over time made them difficult to kill as their vitals healed lightning quick, though beyond that they weren't that faster than humans except they could regrow lost parts if they had enough food.
The last part was their extreme resistance to magic, it was the fact that the standard method for dealing with rogue trolls was to remain out of reach and bombard it with the most destructive spells in their arsenal until it went down from the sheer amount of damage that would eventually get through.
In fact, the only thing that helped in dealing with them was that they were slow and stupid while making big targets.
"Not good," the witch whispered to herself as she skidded to a halt watching the staircase move away to another position at the end of the hall and turned to move a different way.
She barely made it to the side passage and dove under a swing of the club that shattered the stone of a corner. It was far to close for comfort as she felt the damage to her elbows while climbing to her feet to escape.
Her feet hurt and she gasped for air as it crashed down the hallway like a freight train as she tried to find an unlocked door, finally settling for one of the bathrooms..
The door locked behind her and she hid under some of the sinks, taking cover an instant before the door was reduced to splinters and the beast forced its way into the room.
Harry remembered...
He remembered the sound of the television being interupted with flashes of multicolored light.
He remembered what had happened, pain everywhere as the black clad crazies with skull white masks attacked the house when he was barely even four years old.
He remembered the feel of hot and sticky splashes of fresh blood as his relatives died, only moments before something structural was hit, bringing the roof down on top of him.
He remembered being trapped for nearly two days amidst the rubble with the corpses of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.
He remembered the miraculously intact and operational television constantly replaying the video.
He remembered the line that had been burned into his brain, "It's a nice night isn't it..."
And the world would never be the same...
xXx
The institute was the first place he remembered after that night, the doctors and nurses were patching the pale boy up from his ordeal.
He clutched a crimson fedora that he had seen in the lost and found box, an item that had been in it for years according to the custodian of the building and had let him keep it.
In the dark his mind tried to mix what had been written into it with what was real, his magic taking what he believed of himself to be real and making it reality.
It was only a day before he was aimed to be discharged to a foster family that the obliviators were forced to come as a Hellhound was apparently there only to see it change back into a small boy with now crimson eyes.
xXx
Harry worked with his powers, trying to return them to what he believed in his now healed head had been their way.
The bullies had not yet learned their lesson as the boy in the hat seemed to dissolve into a black mist and the screams had begun.
xXx
Olivander was starting to worry, he'd never had someone who was seemingly incompatible with every single wand he owned.
He'd started wondering about some of the want alternatives after the brother wand of Voldemort's seemed to set itself alight when the boy had picked it up.
Trying to reaffirm his conviction about having a wand for everyone, he went through the back cabinets to pull out some of the items various wizards had used in place of a wand or staff. Staves were rare mainly because of their size and the difficulty to make the correct motions with them and were also more expensive due to the materials required to make them, as such they were rare. Others had preferred daggers, the metal being another difficult thing to work with though they were far superior to wands with ritualistic magics.
A small box caught his eye, one of the few things his father had experimented with in his later years.
Some of the muggleborn children of nobility had taken to utilizing gloves made with some of the magical cloth of various creatures and marked with ashes worked into them as they were made, leaving them to appear th color of the cloth until used when markings unique to the specific wizard would appear.
In more recent years several of the various hunter mages employed by other countries had found a use for them although the locals rarely had any, viewing them with disdain as something new and preferred the visible displays of the more visible spellcasting.
Of course the gloves had other benefits, namely in that they freed the hands from requiring them to hold onto something.
He brought the box over to the crimson clad boy and started to lay them out only to find the first one working.
"Interesting, very interesting," the wand maker said to himself as his customer left a moment later, "Acromantula silk and the ash of a Transylvanian vampire."
A moments pause as he replaced the box in its place.
"He will definitely be one to watch."
xXx
An eleven year old dressed in an older style coat and fedora of blood red boarded the Hogwarts express.
Harry wasn't quite sure if he believed the large man about being a wizard, but figured it was worth a glimpse if nothing else.
It was only after the hat was placed upon his head did the faculty begin to think anything was really off about the strange boy dressed in crimson as the Sorting Hat went into hysterics before screaming that the kid could be in any house he chose as long as it never needed to go near him again.
xXx
It had only taken a moment Snape realized, only an instant to realize just how badly he had fucked up.
Potter had come waltzing into his classroom like he owned the place wither the old hat and sunglasses only to take a front row seat.
As the class began he had tried in vain to crack that fanged smile for the first several minutes, only to realize that the damned boy knew the answers to all of the questions he loved to use to destroy the hopes of the youngest Gryffindors.
In a moment of annoyance he had tried to peer into the crimson eyed boys head.
And that is when the situation went straight to hell for the few seconds he saw into it.
He saw a castle on a peak surrounded by what seemed to be a forest.
The scent of freshly spilled as well as older blood mixed with even more foul stenches brushed his senses followed by the screams of the dead and dying merged with begging for mercy and vain threats.
He saw the boy clad in crimson, sitting atop a spire of the gothic fortress' tallest tower sipping casually from a wineglass that held a crimson liquid to viscous to be any wine he knew of.
Severus glanced down from his perch only to realize that the immense forest below was not made of trees as he had first believed. Each of them was a man, woman, or child impaled on a pike, trapped in unending agony at the pleasure of this insane being watching.
He tried not to vomit as his dark eyes glanced up to see the blood moon rising over distant peaks.
Snape screamed as the connection broke, much to the suprise of most of his class.
He felt bile rising in his throat and instant before he threw up into a thankfully empty cauldron and collapsed to his knees.
His mind couldn't comprehend exactly what it was that he had seen and babbled to himself while crawling to a corner.
The initial panic started to die down and he glanced up to see the little horror lower his shades to reveal eyes the color of freshly spilt blood and the demonic smile spread as he held out of of the candies that were seemingly ever present with the madman.
"Bloodpop?"
xXx
The centaurs were confused.
Firenze had reported about his contact with an unusual young human who had engaged in a running battle after a wraith of some sort.
The stars were being even stranger in their clues about Harry Potter.
Jupiter, Mars, and Pluto all bright and seeming to grow stronger in the light of the blood moon.
A combination they had never seen before, a king of death and war while born of blood.
If nothing else, the fate of the boy would be interesting to watch.
xXx
The redheaded brat was becoming an annoyance of sorts Harry mused as the fool insisted on tormenting one of the few members of magical society he viewed as at least partially competent.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
xXx
The cerberus had fled at the sight of a crimson eyed hound passing through the door and dropping to the ground with a dull thud.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
Shattering glass signaled the beginning of the fight between the ones who viewed themselves as immortals.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
xXx
She managed to scream and turn to run before the impact of a massive, oaken club.
The screech of pain drew the attention of the other professors while the brutish troll lumbered off down the hall.
The dull thump of impact ended the scream as she skidded down the hall.
"Sybill," she heard as her vision darkened.
"Merlin!" Minerva hissed before yelling for anyone who could hear her, "Someone get Poppy!"
xXx
His head was swimming.
Thousands of silvery shards had pierced his body from all directions.
His eyes flashed, the red dimming, changing back the dull emerald as he landed on the floor in a heap.
Blood was pooling around him, inching almost like a fleeing army scattering from a destroyed fortress.
His vision was dimming, and Harry knew it would be over.
The magic that had followed the image it had been forced to take was ending, and taking with it the form he'd taken. Fangs receding as the parasite attached to a human host laughed after the single eerie green spell had flashed across the room.
Harry's magic was strong enough to resist the curse itself, but at the same time the resistance had sent him flying across the chamber to crash through the mirror.
His hand, feeling so cold wrapped around the blood red stone through the gloves.
It was powerful, but he would not give it to the sorcerous trash that had raised a wand against him. A fool who reveled in the power, not bothering to learn the true powers that would prove your power.
His mind flashed back to the collapsing room at his Uncle and Aunts with the flashes, a similar death had taken then to the one that was now taking him.
Only he had someone gloating over his broken and battered body.
A decision was made and he slammed the crystalline stone that could grant immortality and wealth beyond the most imaginative wishes to the white marble of the floor.
Voldemort's eyes widened and face paled as he screamed in outrage, raising his wand for another attempt at torturing the boy.
The sound of crystal almost like the sound one would expect from a jar of coins resounded deafeningly in the would be vampires ears.
A crimson spell rocketed towards him as he laughed, the mocking tone he had come to make his own.
And then it was silent.
The dark wizard walked towards the downed boy and his eyes widened again as the crystal shards seemed to reduce themselves to a liquid, merging with the life blood of the boy.
He stepped backwards as the flow of crimson seemed to retreat, returning to the being as some shards seemed through the clothes.
Swirling darkness flooded the room, making it hard to breath as the heir of Salazar Slytherin was sure he could hear the steady beat of a heart that grew louder almost as a drum pounded on parade that was nearing.
Harry's mind remembered being found that day all so long ago as power, unbelievable power, rushed through his veins as liquid fire.
His magic reacted, pushing back into the familiar patterns his body had adapted itself to years before. A swirling stream of blood carried his cloths upwards, rising high while his form disintegrated and then reformed in midair with a blast of raw power that set off what seemed like every single ward up to even Diagon Alley.
People all over the world remembered seeing what looked like droplets of blood stain the moon for the night.
Voldemort was panicking as he watched the mist begin to dissipate to reveal the hellfire eyes of his foe.
Fangs glistened in the dim light that had cut through the devilish fog.
"Beautiful night," Harry seemed to ask himself as his eyes locked with the darkened specter of a wizard, "Isn't it?"
The twin screams of the teacher and the parasite echoed through the ancient halls of the castle.
xXx
Hermione Granger ran after launching one of the better hexes she knew.
She remembered a lot of what had been discussed about trolls in the defense book.
They were strong and tough, capable of feats of strength and endurance that outdid any human, being outclassed only by giants and dragons in both and adding Minotaurs for the strength portion.
With the ability to regenerate over time made them difficult to kill as their vitals healed lightning quick, though beyond that they weren't that faster than humans except they could regrow lost parts if they had enough food.
The last part was their extreme resistance to magic, it was the fact that the standard method for dealing with rogue trolls was to remain out of reach and bombard it with the most destructive spells in their arsenal until it went down from the sheer amount of damage that would eventually get through.
In fact, the only thing that helped in dealing with them was that they were slow and stupid while making big targets.
"Not good," the witch whispered to herself as she skidded to a halt watching the staircase move away to another position at the end of the hall and turned to move a different way.
She barely made it to the side passage and dove under a swing of the club that shattered the stone of a corner. It was far to close for comfort as she felt the damage to her elbows while climbing to her feet to escape.
Her feet hurt and she gasped for air as it crashed down the hallway like a freight train as she tried to find an unlocked door, finally settling for one of the bathrooms..
The door locked behind her and she hid under some of the sinks, taking cover an instant before the door was reduced to splinters and the beast forced its way into the room.
xXx
Dumbledore and Snape had responded to the tripping of the wards around the philosophers stones hideaway.
The image they had come across was not what they had expected, and one that had the wand Albus Dumbledore falling from a limp had to clatter across the blood stained stones while Severus Snape took three steps backwards.
Quirrel was dead, that much was instantly certain, the silver pike that seemed to come from the stonework itself had penetrated the man to extend the bloody tip high into the air while pointing at the shattered mirror that was now without glass.
The sound of mad laughter reached them from high above, muffled partially by the fortress.
xXx
Atop the tallest tower, Harry Potter laughed at the foolish one who had dared to challenge him.
The wraith had managed to escape him, but it was no matter.
He would face Voldemort once more, let the piece of filth run and plan.
Nothing could stop a true No Life King.
A distant scream caught his interest, another possibility to relieve his boredom.
xXx
Hermione Granger had gone from scared to fucking terrified.
The red clad boy had simply stood there, she assumed it was because he was frozen in fear, when he was hit by the massive club of the troll.
Sunken and beady eyes turned towards her once more only for the creature to pause at a loud laugh and a wave of black mist that flooded the room, giving the entire place the stench of freshly spilt blood.
An explosion, no, she corrected herself, a gunshot echoed through the bathroom and the halls as the darkness cleared to reveal the boy standing there.
The tattered school robe fell to reveal the red coat of an almost victorian design and the hat in place upon his head as the being seemed to finish reassembling himself.
"That..." she stammered, searching through all of her knowledge to try and uncover what the hell this maniac was doing only to find nothing to explain it, "That's impossible."
The troll was screaming in pain, collapsing backwards in a heap against the ruined line of sinks with a deafening shriek of pain and outrage as she noticed that the weapon had cleaved the beasts legs off at the knees.
"Stop Whining!" the crimson clad psychotic ordered in an annoyed tone, "All I did was cut off your stupid legs!"
The madman had yet to draw a wand, in fact she couldn't seem to remember him ever using one in class, though she had remembered a notation about a few wizards and witches using gloves instead of wands.
"Come on you worthless piece of garbage!" he snarled, impatience written plainly in his features, "Stand up and come at me! Don't make me waste my entire night"
The troll was panicking now, trying to scramble away from this being that now filled the room with darkness and anger.
"Pick up your club and attack me! Do something!"
The slow clap of footsteps as he walked towards the troll, interrupted her thoughts of which one of the two was the bigger monster.
"Come on, your still moving!" Harry demanded of the thing, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY!"
When it managed to get back a few steps the boy believing himself to be a No-Life-King sighed and raised his gun one more time and pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang and the feel of warm, black blood splashing across her face sent her screaming once more, the scream covering the bang of the doors opening to allow the teachers entrance to the room.
All of them froze as the boy calmly slipped his weapon back into the shadows of his coat and slip a candy from a pocket to slip into his mouth. A gloved hand holding another out to the professors.
"Bloodpop?"
And then he was gone, after getting no response. The teachers and headmaster frozen in shock at the dead troll and moving unconsciously away from the more dangerous predator.
"It's such a beautiful night," came the chime of his voice, "Don't you agree."
xXx
Note: I'm still looking for gaps in this fic to cover this same area of the fic.
He remembered the sound of the television being interupted with flashes of multicolored light.
He remembered what had happened, pain everywhere as the black clad crazies with skull white masks attacked the house when he was barely even four years old.
He remembered the feel of hot and sticky splashes of fresh blood as his relatives died, only moments before something structural was hit, bringing the roof down on top of him.
He remembered being trapped for nearly two days amidst the rubble with the corpses of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.
He remembered the miraculously intact and operational television constantly replaying the video.
He remembered the line that had been burned into his brain, "It's a nice night isn't it..."
And the world would never be the same...
xXx
The institute was the first place he remembered after that night, the doctors and nurses were patching the pale boy up from his ordeal.
He clutched a crimson fedora that he had seen in the lost and found box, an item that had been in it for years according to the custodian of the building and had let him keep it.
In the dark his mind tried to mix what had been written into it with what was real, his magic taking what he believed of himself to be real and making it reality.
It was only a day before he was aimed to be discharged to a foster family that the obliviators were forced to come as a Hellhound was apparently there only to see it change back into a small boy with now crimson eyes.
xXx
Harry worked with his powers, trying to return them to what he believed in his now healed head had been their way.
The bullies had not yet learned their lesson as the boy in the hat seemed to dissolve into a black mist and the screams had begun.
xXx
Olivander was starting to worry, he'd never had someone who was seemingly incompatible with every single wand he owned.
He'd started wondering about some of the want alternatives after the brother wand of Voldemort's seemed to set itself alight when the boy had picked it up.
Trying to reaffirm his conviction about having a wand for everyone, he went through the back cabinets to pull out some of the items various wizards had used in place of a wand or staff. Staves were rare mainly because of their size and the difficulty to make the correct motions with them and were also more expensive due to the materials required to make them, as such they were rare. Others had preferred daggers, the metal being another difficult thing to work with though they were far superior to wands with ritualistic magics.
A small box caught his eye, one of the few things his father had experimented with in his later years.
Some of the muggleborn children of nobility had taken to utilizing gloves made with some of the magical cloth of various creatures and marked with ashes worked into them as they were made, leaving them to appear th color of the cloth until used when markings unique to the specific wizard would appear.
In more recent years several of the various hunter mages employed by other countries had found a use for them although the locals rarely had any, viewing them with disdain as something new and preferred the visible displays of the more visible spellcasting.
Of course the gloves had other benefits, namely in that they freed the hands from requiring them to hold onto something.
He brought the box over to the crimson clad boy and started to lay them out only to find the first one working.
"Interesting, very interesting," the wand maker said to himself as his customer left a moment later, "Acromantula silk and the ash of a Transylvanian vampire."
A moments pause as he replaced the box in its place.
"He will definitely be one to watch."
xXx
An eleven year old dressed in an older style coat and fedora of blood red boarded the Hogwarts express.
Harry wasn't quite sure if he believed the large man about being a wizard, but figured it was worth a glimpse if nothing else.
It was only after the hat was placed upon his head did the faculty begin to think anything was really off about the strange boy dressed in crimson as the Sorting Hat went into hysterics before screaming that the kid could be in any house he chose as long as it never needed to go near him again.
xXx
It had only taken a moment Snape realized, only an instant to realize just how badly he had fucked up.
Potter had come waltzing into his classroom like he owned the place wither the old hat and sunglasses only to take a front row seat.
As the class began he had tried in vain to crack that fanged smile for the first several minutes, only to realize that the damned boy knew the answers to all of the questions he loved to use to destroy the hopes of the youngest Gryffindors.
In a moment of annoyance he had tried to peer into the crimson eyed boys head.
And that is when the situation went straight to hell for the few seconds he saw into it.
He saw a castle on a peak surrounded by what seemed to be a forest.
The scent of freshly spilled as well as older blood mixed with even more foul stenches brushed his senses followed by the screams of the dead and dying merged with begging for mercy and vain threats.
He saw the boy clad in crimson, sitting atop a spire of the gothic fortress' tallest tower sipping casually from a wineglass that held a crimson liquid to viscous to be any wine he knew of.
Severus glanced down from his perch only to realize that the immense forest below was not made of trees as he had first believed. Each of them was a man, woman, or child impaled on a pike, trapped in unending agony at the pleasure of this insane being watching.
He tried not to vomit as his dark eyes glanced up to see the blood moon rising over distant peaks.
Snape screamed as the connection broke, much to the suprise of most of his class.
He felt bile rising in his throat and instant before he threw up into a thankfully empty cauldron and collapsed to his knees.
His mind couldn't comprehend exactly what it was that he had seen and babbled to himself while crawling to a corner.
The initial panic started to die down and he glanced up to see the little horror lower his shades to reveal eyes the color of freshly spilt blood and the demonic smile spread as he held out of of the candies that were seemingly ever present with the madman.
"Bloodpop?"
xXx
The centaurs were confused.
Firenze had reported about his contact with an unusual young human who had engaged in a running battle after a wraith of some sort.
The stars were being even stranger in their clues about Harry Potter.
Jupiter, Mars, and Pluto all bright and seeming to grow stronger in the light of the blood moon.
A combination they had never seen before, a king of death and war while born of blood.
If nothing else, the fate of the boy would be interesting to watch.
xXx
The redheaded brat was becoming an annoyance of sorts Harry mused as the fool insisted on tormenting one of the few members of magical society he viewed as at least partially competent.
"Looks like the mutt has figured that his lack of bite makes him want to bark louder," he commented in a tone that was both quiet and yet reached everyones ears, though the girl had already fled.
He calmly walked away, ignoring the glares from the fool as he vanished with a laugh into the shadows of the hallway.
xXx
He had taken to avoiding the Great Hall unless something required an appearance.
A brief scent caught his nostrils, a coppery stench that carried an odd tone to it. The strangeness was enough to draw him much as similar smells call sharks in the seas.
"Perhaps there is something that could prove amusing," Harry chuckled to himself as he followed his nose.
xXx
The cerberus had fled at the sight of a crimson eyed hound passing through the door and dropping to the ground with a dull thud.
His eyes spotted small patches of a vaguely familiar plant from a recent herbology class just starting to grow along the walls and indicators of plans for it to fill the floor.
With the silence of a grave, the hellhound walked with confidence onwards, passing through an area covered with tables covered in thousands of different keys with wings, a few in cages and marked by moving wings. The farthest door still ajar before him allowing him easy passage.
A moments disdain at the immobile chess pieces standing in eerie silence as he walked through them, wondering just what their purpose was while a few twitched and it seemed like their eyes were locked on the intruder before he passed beyond their reach.
After a small and empty room, Harry encountered a wall of flame with a series of bottles.
A moments amusement as he considered a trick that bypassed the apparent test, utilizing a simple flame-freezing charm he'd found in a book on the inquisition and various "witch-trials" across the world.
It was the stuttering pest of a teacher, one that had annoyed him from the beginning.
He reeked of blood, stolen and otherwise, as Harry leaped, transforming to his normal appearance in mid leap.
The final room was interesting, a series of mirrors set around a glass pillar. The seemingly empty column of glass was reflected differently in each mirror that faced it, all showing a single glistening stone of blood red hovering within and three others of different colors.
Shattering glass signaled the beginning of the fight between the ones who viewed themselves as immortals.
The nearest mirror detonating as Harry dodged a series of spells that left glistening, molten paths through the falling shards of crystalline material that rang with the chime of glass upon impact with the ancient stonework.
A hasty shot that deflected off of a shield in a flash of silvery light while a second mirror exploded from the impact.
Two pairs of blood red eyes met in a momentary lull in the battle as both whirled to face the other, pistol and wand at the ready.
"I can give you great power Potter," the dark wizard attempted to convince his foe.
"Power?" came the laugh in response, "What do I need your power for?"
"You pathetic fool," the parasite laughed, "What good is your power now?"
Both fired, each missing the other, sending sparks and stone fragments flying from the walls as the dance continued.
"Let me tell you a secret," the heir of Slytherin goaded, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it à"
A haunting laugh was the only response, "Good? Evil?"
The brief pause and dead silence for a the length of a single beat of the heart.
"What would monsters need with such things," the demonic grin spread, "Show me your power!"
Both attacked again, dancing through the wreckage and avoiding the pillar between them as the final two mirrors shattered, showering both of them with shards of silvered glass.
And then it was over, Harry felt an impact as did the wizard. A bullet and a spell launched together each hit their targets.
The dark lord shrieked in pain as he stared for a moment at the ruined arm of his host before turning to look at his foe who had been blasted through the central pillar to collapse, twitching and bleeding in a heap against the wall.
xXx
She managed to scream and turn to run before the impact of a massive, oaken club.
The screech of pain drew the attention of the other professors while the brutish troll lumbered off down the hall.
The dull thump of impact ended the scream as she skidded down the hall.
"Sybill," she heard as her vision darkened.
"Merlin!" Minerva hissed before yelling for anyone who could hear her, "Someone get Poppy!"
xXx
His head was swimming.
Thousands of silvery shards had pierced his body from all directions.
His eyes flashed, the red dimming, changing back the dull emerald as he landed on the floor in a heap.
Blood was pooling around him, inching almost like a fleeing army scattering from a destroyed fortress.
His vision was dimming, and Harry knew it would be over.
The magic that had followed the image it had been forced to take was ending, and taking with it the form he'd taken. Fangs receding as the parasite attached to a human host laughed after the single eerie green spell had flashed across the room.
Harry's magic was strong enough to resist the curse itself, but at the same time the resistance had sent him flying across the chamber to crash through the mirror.
His hand, feeling so cold wrapped around the blood red stone through the gloves.
It was powerful, but he would not give it to the sorcerous trash that had raised a wand against him. A fool who reveled in the power, not bothering to learn the true powers that would prove your power.
His mind flashed back to the collapsing room at his Uncle and Aunts with the flashes, a similar death had taken then to the one that was now taking him.
Only he had someone gloating over his broken and battered body.
A decision was made and he slammed the crystalline stone that could grant immortality and wealth beyond the most imaginative wishes to the white marble of the floor.
Voldemort's eyes widened and face paled as he screamed in outrage, raising his wand for another attempt at torturing the boy.
The sound of crystal almost like the sound one would expect from a jar of coins resounded deafeningly in the would be vampires ears.
A crimson spell rocketed towards him as he laughed, the mocking tone he had come to make his own.
And then it was silent.
The dark wizard walked towards the downed boy and his eyes widened again as the crystal shards seemed to reduce themselves to a liquid, merging with the life blood of the boy.
He stepped backwards as the flow of crimson seemed to retreat, returning to the being as some shards seemed through the clothes.
Swirling darkness flooded the room, making it hard to breath as the heir of Salazar Slytherin was sure he could hear the steady beat of a heart that grew louder almost as a drum pounded on parade that was nearing.
Harry's mind remembered being found that day all so long ago as power, unbelievable power, rushed through his veins as liquid fire.
His magic reacted, pushing back into the familiar patterns his body had adapted itself to years before. A swirling stream of blood carried his cloths upwards, rising high while his form disintegrated and then reformed in midair with a blast of raw power that set off what seemed like every single ward up to even Diagon Alley.
People all over the world remembered seeing what looked like droplets of blood stain the moon for the night.
Voldemort was panicking as he watched the mist begin to dissipate to reveal the hellfire eyes of his foe.
Fangs glistened in the dim light that had cut through the devilish fog.
"Beautiful night," Harry seemed to ask himself as his eyes locked with the darkened specter of a wizard, "Isn't it?"
The twin screams of the teacher and the parasite echoed through the ancient halls of the castle.
xXx
Hermione Granger ran after launching one of the better hexes she knew.
She remembered a lot of what had been discussed about trolls in the defense book.
They were strong and tough, capable of feats of strength and endurance that outdid any human, being outclassed only by giants and dragons in both and adding Minotaurs for the strength portion.
With the ability to regenerate over time made them difficult to kill as their vitals healed lightning quick, though beyond that they weren't that faster than humans except they could regrow lost parts if they had enough food.
The last part was their extreme resistance to magic, it was the fact that the standard method for dealing with rogue trolls was to remain out of reach and bombard it with the most destructive spells in their arsenal until it went down from the sheer amount of damage that would eventually get through.
In fact, the only thing that helped in dealing with them was that they were slow and stupid while making big targets.
"Not good," the witch whispered to herself as she skidded to a halt watching the staircase move away to another position at the end of the hall and turned to move a different way.
She barely made it to the side passage and dove under a swing of the club that shattered the stone of a corner. It was far to close for comfort as she felt the damage to her elbows while climbing to her feet to escape.
Her feet hurt and she gasped for air as it crashed down the hallway like a freight train as she tried to find an unlocked door, finally settling for one of the bathrooms..
The door locked behind her and she hid under some of the sinks, taking cover an instant before the door was reduced to splinters and the beast forced its way into the room.
xXx
Dumbledore and Snape had responded to the tripping of the wards around the philosophers stones hideaway.
The image they had come across was not what they had expected, and one that had the wand Albus Dumbledore falling from a limp had to clatter across the blood stained stones while Severus Snape took three steps backwards.
Quirrel was dead, that much was instantly certain, the silver pike that seemed to come from the stonework itself had penetrated the man to extend the bloody tip high into the air while pointing at the shattered mirror that was now without glass.
The sound of mad laughter reached them from high above, muffled partially by the fortress.
xXx
Atop the tallest tower, Harry Potter laughed at the foolish one who had dared to challenge him.
The wraith had managed to escape him, but it was no matter.
He would face Voldemort once more, let the piece of filth run and plan.
Nothing could stop a true No Life King.
A distant scream caught his interest, another possibility to relieve his boredom.
xXx
Hermione Granger had gone from scared to fucking terrified.
The red clad boy had simply stood there, she assumed it was because he was frozen in fear, when he was hit by the massive club of the troll.
Sunken and beady eyes turned towards her once more only for the creature to pause at a loud laugh and a wave of black mist that flooded the room, giving the entire place the stench of freshly spilt blood.
An explosion, no, she corrected herself, a gunshot echoed through the bathroom and the halls as the darkness cleared to reveal the boy standing there.
The tattered school robe fell to reveal the red coat of an almost victorian design and the hat in place upon his head as the being seemed to finish reassembling himself.
"That..." she stammered, searching through all of her knowledge to try and uncover what the hell this maniac was doing only to find nothing to explain it, "That's impossible."
The troll was screaming in pain, collapsing backwards in a heap against the ruined line of sinks with a deafening shriek of pain and outrage as she noticed that the weapon had cleaved the beasts legs off at the knees.
"Stop Whining!" the crimson clad psychotic ordered in an annoyed tone, "All I did was cut off your stupid legs!"
The madman had yet to draw a wand, in fact she couldn't seem to remember him ever using one in class, though she had remembered a notation about a few wizards and witches using gloves instead of wands.
"Come on you worthless piece of garbage!" he snarled, impatience written plainly in his features, "Stand up and come at me! Don't make me waste my entire night"
The troll was panicking now, trying to scramble away from this being that now filled the room with darkness and anger.
"Pick up your club and attack me! Do something!"
The slow clap of footsteps as he walked towards the troll, interrupted her thoughts of which one of the two was the bigger monster.
"Come on, your still moving!" Harry demanded of the thing, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY!"
When it managed to get back a few steps the boy believing himself to be a No-Life-King sighed and raised his gun one more time and pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang and the feel of warm, black blood splashing across her face sent her screaming once more, the scream covering the bang of the doors opening to allow the teachers entrance to the room.
All of them froze as the boy calmly slipped his weapon back into the shadows of his coat and slip a candy from a pocket to slip into his mouth. A gloved hand holding another out to the professors.
"Bloodpop?"
And then he was gone, after getting no response. The teachers and headmaster frozen in shock at the dead troll and moving unconsciously away from the more dangerous predator.
"It's such a beautiful night," came the chime of his voice, "Don't you agree."
xXx
Note: I'm still looking for gaps in this fic to cover this same area of the fic.
The footsteps on the wooden stairs alerted him to a visitor.
Ever since his relatives died that day, he'd been in the care of a small family in London. He had been given a room that had once served as a library in the remodeled basement. The dark wood of the walls were filled with recessed shelves and the four poster bed had been draped to block the single window, allowing him his pleasant solitude with a single pet that he had raised.
Books had been one of his hobbies, his favorite being a draw between the Hound of the Baskervilles and Dracula, both of which he had managed to acquire first edition copies that held places on his shelves amidst books on many subjects that happened to catch his interest.
The pet was one that many found surprising, at least until they'd spent much time with him, an egyptian fruit bat that the family had found in a shipment of dates brought back from a business trip.
He'd named her Carmilla after one of the vampires in some of his books.
The bearded man entered his room with Mrs. Umbralun who bowed out as she normally did, preferring to leave the boy in the silence he preferred.
The goal of the visit, however, was not something he had ever expected.
Ever since his relatives died that day, he'd been in the care of a small family in London. He had been given a room that had once served as a library in the remodeled basement. The dark wood of the walls were filled with recessed shelves and the four poster bed had been draped to block the single window, allowing him his pleasant solitude with a single pet that he had raised.
Books had been one of his hobbies, his favorite being a draw between the Hound of the Baskervilles and Dracula, both of which he had managed to acquire first edition copies that held places on his shelves amidst books on many subjects that happened to catch his interest.
The pet was one that many found surprising, at least until they'd spent much time with him, an egyptian fruit bat that the family had found in a shipment of dates brought back from a business trip.
He'd named her Carmilla after one of the vampires in some of his books.
The bearded man entered his room with Mrs. Umbralun who bowed out as she normally did, preferring to leave the boy in the silence he preferred.
The goal of the visit, however, was not something he had ever expected.