All right, this isn't my first Harry Potter story, but it is my first that I'm putting online! I've had this account for a while, almost as long as the one that I used to actually write on. But I rethought my decision and decided to take a two year hiatus and study others to write better. I'm very happy with the result, so here's my story! I give all credit for the name of the story to whoever sang that song... I'd be appreciative if someone told me who, cause I don't know! And if anyone's looking for a beta job, I'm not desperate, but I prolly need it, you know?

Diclaimer: I do not Own Harry Potter in any way fashion or form.

Chapter One- When You're Dreaming with a Broken Heart, The Waking up is the Hardest Part.

I need to… Get up!

I wrench myself from sleep and roll off the bed onto the floor, landing on my knees. The room is suffocating me with the strong, ever permeable, smell of gardenias.

Red hair drifts across my face and caresses my skin, softly bathing me in a strong aroma of my lover.

I'm hyperventilating now. She's gone. I'm on my knees, arm around my aching chest as I fold into myself, clutching my knife like a lifeline as I dig it into the carpet.

When did I pull that out?

The scent of gardenias dissipates but my vision doesn't clear and I realize, a little belatedly, as I grope blindly for my vibrating phone, that I'm not wearing glasses or contacts.

"'lo?" I answer groggily, still shaking off my disturbing memory.

"Gi'up, mate!" A familiar voice demands.

"Eh?"

"We've found our mark!"

"Meet you at the corner."

CLICK

Camouflage is a tricky business normally, but when you have startling green eyes, pale milky skin, and you (at least that's what you've been told) smell like kumquat, it's not easy. But my disguise is a second skin. Over my tight boxers I slip on my tight but infinitely flexible leather pants and strap on several of my leather knife holsters in easily accessible places on my thighs and calves. I wriggle into my tight black sleeveless body shirt, that's made of spandex (perfect for slipping out of messes ), and wrap my hands and arms carefully in black wraps, methodically wrapping all the way up to his elbows. I lace up my black leather shoes with silent rubber soles, discreetly tucking a knife (or two) in there as well.

I duck into the small mirror I allow myself propped on my vanity (I broke the large one that was previously there by putting my fist through it some time ago) and slip in my pure black contacts. While there I tie on my long black sweatband, under my bangs, that flows behind me when I run. I uncap my smudge pot and carefully cover all of my bare skin in black… stuff before wiping my hands on a rag on my vanity that I have just for that purpose. I slip on my gloves, add a few more knives for good measure, and slip out of my window. Silently, I creep onto the fire escape.

I swing over the railing gracefully and wave my hand as I fall, muttering "Wingardium Leviosa". This is one of the few incantations that I actually remember. My decent slows and I softly hit the ground, lightly, but quickly, treading to the corner where my friend awaits.

"Blimey mate! 3 minutes this time."

I flash my pearly whites to my long time friend.

"Thanks Ron." I quietly answer. "Who's our strike?"

"That pimp that's bin annoying our "Lord". and you know better than to call me that! It's Rory!" He smacks me on the back of the head and hands my the two way earbud that keeps us connected with Hermione. I answer distractedly with an apology as I listen to the plan from Hermione.

"Jane's worked it all out, Viper. All we have to do is…."

I only need one person telling me, people.

Did I mention my snake bite piercing? Or the black stud through my left eyebrow? How about my gauged ears? No, the real kicker is my name. Hermione just fell back on her middle name, Jane. Ron also had a strange fondness for the name Rory. Even Ginny could fall back on the name Jennifer.

I shiver in remembrance of waking only a few minutes ago.

With brown hair dye and brown contacts, Ron (AKA Rory) is the most nondescript man I've ever seen. In comparison, Jane is extraordinarily striking with blond hair and blue eyes. But the viper is never seen. I never go out without a disguise. Known by reputation only, I've never dealt with any of our "Benefactors". Even "Jennifer" had brunette hair to match her brother and her new identity.

My Kill Mark is my only saving grace. A couple flicks of the wrist and my mark is etched into my kill for anyone to see. Of course, it's a spitting viper.

My friends all use their imposing presence to part crowds and cow potential bosses.

I scare people by skulking in the shadows and never having a real face.

Rory Finishes etching out the plan, with Jane making it clearer in the background. I nod in assent. It's a good idea. The man's a coward, the pimp I mean, so scaring him shouldn't be hard.

Hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssh

"Go Harry! Jane'll pick me up. Just run away as fast as you can you remember where it's at?"

I take the bag from his bloody hands and nod.

"Good, go!"

I don't wait another second and take off, hoping Jane arrives in time to take him out of the hole before back up shows up. I couldn't. 1. He was wounded 2. She has the car 3. We have a deadline with our boss that I have to make.

Hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssh

I'm peering up from the shadows in the garden at the imposingly ornate house of our boss. It looks familiar, but how should I know? I'm 27 and frankly, I barely remember anything before my first kill. Who was it again? Voldie-man? I shake my head. Now's for business.

From what I understand, Rory and Jane use the front door and go straight towards the "Hall", as they call it.

Now, that's just not my style.

Hmmm…. I stalk closer to the grand structure and then mentally bring up the blue prints again. "That'll do." I whisper, striving quietly up an arbor and through the guard rail onto a balcony. I expertly flick out my knife and the simple door opens with a quiet click, swinging inwards. The curtains are already drawn aside and all eyes are on me as I step through the door, thankfully, not cringing at the light seeping into all corners of the room almost magically.

No, wait. This house has power, so it IS magical. I keep the surprise off of my face as I wipe the dark substance (Smudge, remember?) off, my face at least, and stride confidently forward.

From the head or a magnificent table, an elegant man with platinum locks calls out. "Who are you? I was expecting the beautiful Jane, or even Rory. But not," He sneers and all his fellows, but one, laugh along with him. "A scrawny little runt such as you."

A Striking man with long black hair, a strong presence, and fiery black eyes catches my attention.

Oh Merlin, he's gorgeous.

I turn my attention back towards the blond and stalk forward, dropping my strike's bag on the table in front of him as he idly twirls a glass of red wine in his fingers.

Foreboding much?

"Unfortunately," I drawl quietly, catching everyone's attention. "I am a last resort considering that you wanted that... whatever it is." I wave my hand dismissively at the table and the bag. "So badly that my partner risked his life and is the most assuredly out of commission for the time being." I stare long and hard into his cold silver eyes. "I assure you that I will not soil you with my presence again."

I flourish a bow, and twitters of "the viper" erupt along the table. The blonde, who is most definatly in charge, eyes me with glittering eyes, and the dark beauty eres me impassicely.

The blonde grabs my wrist and yanks me close, tracing my jaw with a snake headed cane. My eyes flicker downwards at it and I"m deluged with memories stemming from this simple item.

"Do I know you?" He murmurs dangerously.

I whip my knife out like lightening and press it to his throat.

"Mr. Malfoy." I grind out. "I suggest that you remoce your paws from my person while you still possess them."

"If this is an attempt at murder..." He spits.

I assure you it is not." I break away from him but am still standing close enough to feel his breath on my face, I never did grow taller than 5'2".

"I do not go by that name any longer."

"I do not know what you do go by, whatever my friends call you, you still live in Malfoy Manor."

Surprise flickers in his eyes as I imagine it does in mine also.

/"Mr. Potter, it would be best if you stayed out of my way from now on."/

"This house is magical no longer."

"It is." I spit venomously. "I can feel it humming around me." I spread my arms out wide. "It still protects it's own. I couldn't kill you if I wanted to."

"You, Mr. Potter, are the viper?"

Now I'm scared. The energy is sucked out of me and I deflate. The only thing keeping me steady is the house. Someone the house likes wishes me well, and she (the hosue) will do whatever it takes to keep her friend happy.

This is why I am never our team's representative.

"I do not remember being who you speak of." I state slowly as I tread backwards. "Therefore he exists no longer."

"Harry." A apined voice whispers. I lock eyes with expression filled onyx ones and I panic, fleeing off the balcony and disappearing with a crack midair.

"Did anyone see him sporting a wand?" Snape asks quietly.

hpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpssshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpsshpss

I reappear in the middle of my apartment and I immediately begin casting wards around my home, locking door and windows, setting alarms and see me not charms. I exhaust myself protecting myself against all manners of things and finally curl up with a comforterin front of my heater to ward against the chill seeping into me from within.

/"Look at your son's Harry. They're such handsome boys."/

Jenny's laughter fades and I'm aware of tears on my face and soft words in the air.

"Ssh, harry. It's all right." The soft but masculine scent of sandlewood hooks it's tendrils into my wife's aroma and pushes it away.

"Oh Harry. My beautiful little snake."

I struggle out of sleep and find myself held close in another's arms. "How did you get in my hosue?" I murmur.

A long and slender hand strokes my hair. "Oh Harry. Your wards were wonderful, but you were panicked and didn't use a wand. A wand would've anchored them and kept them hole free."

"I do not have... a wand did you call it?"

He clasps my left hand and holds it up for me to see.

I gasp. "How long have I had that?!" A glittering silver viper with emerald eyes coils around my ring finger. It's tongue lshes out and tastes me reassuringly.

"10 years Harry. It's been protecting you for me. Probably also why you require a wand no longer. It's a bit of grounding fo ryou I should think."

"It's how you found me." I murmur thoughtfully.

"Yes."

'Then why didn't...?"

"You did not want or need to be found. I'm here to save you from your pain, Harry."

I feel him go stiff for a moment, straining as if listening for a sound, and he gently lifts me to my bed. "Dream, little one, I will return."

From my cocoon of blankets I blurrily watch him lean over me and place a kiss on my forehead before he steps back and swirls away, silently, into the darkness.

I close my eyes, to sleep, as I was commanded. My last thoughts as I drift off revolve around why in the world I'd be so comfortable with receiving one of those?

/"Jenny dear, be careful while you're out."

I place a kiss on my wife's cheek and smile at my boys in her arms.

"Relax, Harry. We're just going out to the store. The house is hidden, at your insisting, I'm wearing yet another disguise, and our car has more protection than an armored car." She smiles brilliantly. "We'll be fine, Harry."

I'm racing though the streets. No disguise, no kill gear. Just Harry. Messy hair, designer glasses, T-shirt and jeans.

I can smell the smoke from here.

"Ginny!" I clamber over a stopped car and I sense my ring, my precious wedding band, melting away as if made of sand. The pendant around my neck is burning so hot that I'm sure it's burning my skin. The snake pendant is designed to tell me when she's in danger by glowing. Things must be bad if it's searing my skin.

I round the corner, and at the sight of the wreckage it stops, then it dies. The living metal of pendants DIES and shortly disappear, which means hers is dead too.

"Oh my God! Ginny! JEnnifer! No!!"

I rush at the fiery car and hear two pops behind me.

"Harry, no!!" Jane cries. "She's gone! Let it go. Harry!"

I'm sobbing now. "But the boys!"

"harry, you'll be all right."/

Everything goes dark, and for the first time in a year, I don't wake up to the scent of gardenias. I fumble for my glasses and once I have them on I search, with my eyes, for what's different in my apartment.

Incense is burning on my dedside table and with a whiff I identify it as a sandlewood. Lying next to it is a single white rose.

I leap off my bed, wondering when I got there, and disappear with a crack.

In my absence, my wards snap into place with the finality of of the guillotine and the single person in my house is deposited in the outside hall. He murmers. "Impressice." Before he, too, disapperates away to who knows where.