A.N: This is an answer to Cuban Sombrero Gal's Pop Culture Challenge. We were supposed to pick three prompts. I chose Heroes, Lord of The Rings and Titanic. Kind of crossover between Harry Potter/Heroes and Lord of The Rings.
Warnings: Mentions of imprisonment, child abuse, starvation, violence and rape. Don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Harry Potter, Heroes, Lord of The Rings or the song Nearer My God to Thee. Are we done yet?
My nose thrills flare, both in hate and fear, as I breathe in the smell of his cologne. I hate him; hate him more than I ever could hate his master. Still, I fear him, because I can hear his voice in my mind everytime I go to sleep.
He's older. I know it's stupid to think so, of course he has become older, but in my mind he has stayed like he was when I escaped from him.
His grey eyes stares at me amazed and shocked. The sword I hold in my hand is full of blood. This sword claimed Orcs, Nagini, Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, and at last, Lord Voldemort.
The one I was born to kill, if I was to believe the lies Dumbledore fed me with. I did for a while, but this man showed me otherwise.
Hiro Nakamura stands beside me; he too has a sword in his hands. While his is an ancient katana, mine is an elven blade, forged by the elves from the past.
We, Ando, Hiro and I landed back in the past by accident, not only once, but other times as well. I got my sword, by some elves from Middle Earth. They meant it was a shame that only my friends had weapons, and gave me this sword.
As I briefly recalls, Ando falls down, hit by a bone cracker hex. His bullets have hurt some of Voldy's minions, and now he's paying for his crime.
I see Hiro's eyes, full of concern, and in his heart I know he is debating on what to do.
I tell them to leave. Voldemort is dead, but still I have one more job left.
Hiro's concerned onyx eyes hits mine, but he does as he's told. He promises to come back. I know he will try; Hiro never leaves his friends behind. We have our battles to fight, and whenever we tell the other to back off, we do. He will check upon me, but not interfere, unless I'm unconscious.
So, now I'm alone, with 14 wizards. The tall man laughs, his eyes trailing down my body, and for the first time in six years I hear his voice, for real, not from dreams or nightmares.
"You have grown, Potter."
I sneer back that he has aged, making him smile. God I hate it when he does that. His eyes haven't changed from the last time I saw him. If this was the past, then I would have been terrified by now, begging for mercy.
But in the present, in the now, I am not afraid. It's a warrior's privilege. In fight, we forget our fears. We fight for ourselves and the ones we love.
Ando and Hiro are not here, so I have nothing to worry about.
I laugh cruelly as he raises his wand. "You cannot use it, Luc" how different it is to call him that in real life, not in my mind.
His eyes are widening, as he realises that I'm right. His wand doesn't even create smoke. It doesn't work anymore.
The price we wizards have to pay for having these powers. Our old ones have to go.
He throws it away. And I do the same with my sword. This fight will be fought on these terms. When we were younger, we fought differently, but six years has passed.
He calls to the wizards, tells them not to interfere, no matter what happens.
Then we begin.
His wind is strong, but not as strong as it should be. After so many years, he does not recall that the wind strengthens my powers, and full of rage, I send a very powerful fireball against him.
He jumps away; making the fire ball hit the wooden wall.
I want to withdraw the fire but I know it's my strength, and I can't afford to be nice now. I have make him choke enough to make him go up in flames.
"Tell me, LSF" he takes much pleasure in calling me by the nickname I once had, in his mountain. "Is this a kind of revenge, or another way to save the world?"
"None" I snarl, fixing his grey eyes a cold glare. "I got my revenge years ago."
"Then why…" I laugh at his stuttering. "You told me once that anyone could be someone else."
His eyes narrow. "Yes?"
"You were right." His face is getting a slightly red color, mostly because of the fire which blazes around us. The wizards are gone, they are, and have always been cowards.
"So, you're a samurai now?" he snorts, sending wind against me. My body has no problem with being slammed into the fire blazed wall. Yes, it hurts, but it's not because of the fire. It's the wall.
"No, Kenshi" I correct, a natural thing after spending so much time with Hiro. "They can come from everywhere" I hiss, as I remove myself from the wall. "From every social class there is."
"So the escaped whore decided to become a warrior?" Why does Lucius look so calm, when he is in such danger? He sits down, sucking in one deep breath at the time.
His remark doesn't hurt. The evidence that the mental scars he once gave me are gone. "You know" I say slowly. "If you beg for mercy, then I have to comply."
He laughs. "Cause of the rules, the Busi-something? Typical of you, Potter, choosing a way of life which combines fighting, bravery and stupidity!"
I smile briefly, but I stand on guard. He can stop the fire if he wants to; suffocate me, just by drawing the air back. But he doesn't. What is he waiting for?
"It's called Bushido" I can't help correcting him once again.
"Indeed" he snorts.
There is a pregnant pause between us, as the roof starts falling down at us. We both have to move, and we do so without even looking at each other.
"Seems like I was wiser than I first believed when I locked you in that room" he mocks, trying to make me angry.
I do not give him the pleasure. He wants me to cry, to break down, and to attack him. But I don't.
The Bushido allows me to kill him. He kept me inside a mountain for years. Images the waterfall he kept me under for hours, the food he withheld, the cane, and the times he got drunk and raped me.
Somehow, he always remembered it the next day, and tormented me the next day, and it's one of the reasons why he calls me whore, or LSF.
Little Sweet Fuck.
I have lived with the Bushido for years, it's one of the reasons that I can live with the fighting Hiro, Ando and I have to do from time to time. But even as I'm following it, killing my tormentor of the past, it doesn't feel honourable.
Maybe it's because he's not really fighting back. Most of the times, they fight.
As my mind finishes those thoughts, he goes into my trap.
He has been 'cunning' and tried to wait until the last moment. But it's too late. Even as he draws in air, trying to suffocate the fire, he can't do it fast enough. Isn't it ironic that trying to be smart, or as I would say in the old days, being a Slytherin is getting him killed right now?
In front of my very eyes, the fire claims him. As they do so, in desperation Lucius sends a powerful wind, trying to chase it away from his body. Instead, he gives it extra strength, and suddenly, he's gone.
Disgusted I huff, and turn my back against the corpse. I stumble upon my sword, and pick it up. Even though that I have no problems with the fire, I still follow the screams which leads me outside the manor. For some reason I want to see their faces.
Hiro stands outside, waiting for me. As does Dumbledore, The Weasley's and Draco Malfoy.
"Was it worth it?" Hiro yells to me, his voice just a notch over the fire behind me.
"Not as I thought it would." I reply. We both turn to the manor, as a deep crack fills the air. A large piece of the roof falls down, making the others jump.
"Potter!" Draco suddenly yells his voice high and terrified. "Is my father in there?"
"He's dead!" I yell back.
A new crack is heard, and we all have to run away from the falling manor, in fear of being hit by falling parts. Hiro monitions me to grab his arm, so we can teleport away. I shake my head, it's not time yet. He gets angry at me, calls me names in Japanese.
I don't care. These people… I haven't seen them for about eight years. All of them have been fighting with us, or in Draco's case, against us. All this tonight. And now, enemies, friends and family are united this night, to watch Malfoy manor burn to the ground.
Molly starts hymning. She probably doesn't know, but her hymn is awful lot like the song the band on Titanic played in their last minutes.
But this will not be seen as a tragedy, no, the light side will use this as a symbol of good conquering the evil. The holy fire, cleaning up the mess the darkness left behind. Maybe they'll write books about it.
I turn to Draco. He too has grown, much taller than I ever will be. He has gained some weight, something I failed to notice earlier this evening.
"Draco" I swallow slowly, chocking the words out. "I killed your father." I tell him. I can't recognize my own voice as I tell this. I don't even know why I'm telling him. "If you want to kill me, I won't blame you" His eyes meet mine. They're different from his father. Warmer. "But you'll have to work for it."
Hiro takes it as a sign, and grabs my arm. "Do you think he'll pick up the sword?" Hiro asks me quietly, as we return to the flat which works as our base when someone's wounded.
"I don't know" I answer. "I really don't know." I go to the medicine cabinet, and pick up two pain killers.
"Nearer, my God, to Thee" I hear Hiro hymn across the room.
"Yes, Old tormentor" I mumble. "Let us hope that he has mercy with you." I close the cabinet.