Disclaimer: I don't own J.K. Rowling's amazing, fantastic, books... sadly, or I'd be in the money, but I do own a few of the characters... so uhh... yeah... Don't sue me, and don't make me track you down and poke you incessably. Nor do I have any claim over A Perfect Circle's music.
A/N:This is my sorry attempt at writing my first, real Harry Potter. I've tempted to write this story line for what I think is over a year and just now am I finding the inspiration to actually type it up. I'll probably be going over a few revisions of this first chapter, trying to see you guys like it, trying to make it better. Thanks for reading!
Summary: Post HBP, Dumbledore, before his demise, before even Harry's first year at Hogwarts, set something into motion that affects lives of the world. The war with darkness is going beyond prophecies and ordinary magic. Legends become real, the impossible is reached. Another card is being played, in the form of one girl.
Questions are being asked, hearts broken, friends lost and new ones gained. It's bound to be an interesting year.
Adventure, humor, possible romance (We'll see where this goes)
Rate PG-13 + due to violence, and language.
Through the Mists
chapter one - Initiation
A crack penetrated the lethargic air and rang through the hall. One not unlike the unforgiving snap of a leather whip; one that foretold her arrival. Stepping unto the sleek, dark wood with an extended boot, from thin air came the newly materialized agent. A sharp chin was held level to the ground; dark and glinting green eyes stared straight ahead The mere movement of her walk was an inch away from inspiring a theme-song to magically erupt and blast the vast corridor in the wake of the Auror who so easily held the official title of "Bad-ass."
Either the crowd spilt apart to clear her path or her pace was timed perfectly to avoid on comers, as the agent strode past metallic figures of magical beings spewing water up gracefully into the air, after which it fell into a the large pool surrounding them, towards gleaming gold gates; the entrance to the twenty equally magnificent lifts which too glittered in their splendor. In this hall, the Agent made her way, to the first available elevator.
Walking casually through the grilled doorway she stood to the side amongst at least half a dozen other transportees and leaned her back upon the wall. As the lift began to ascend, the witch's intense eyes could be seen peaking behind a thin curtain of locks that framed her face; downcast though they were, their attentiveness was curious. Compared to all of the colorful robes and cloaks that surrounded her in the enclosed space, the agent's own attire was rather odd in such a place. Muggle clothing, it was called here, dark and sleek, and it roused many confused and somewhat scornful looks from her fellow passengers. Those looks however did not hold for long once they saw the identification tag hanging around her graceful neck:
Ministry of Magic
Auror Headquarters
Agent Alisha K. B. Raye
"Lupa"
A name quite well-known throughout the building.
Besides the flutter of flying memos and the soft rattling of chains, the small talk of a few passengers was the only prevention of the descending silence, however, their random conversations did not go unheard.
"Just working on a new design for their uniforms," Explained an overly feminine man who sported jangling bracelets, carried a glittering portfolio, and wore what looked to be custom made, heeled, Italian boots. "I was thinking a more orange on black this year." This man and his audience got off as an automatic woman's voice announced, "Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office," and the grille-like doors opened to the cubical filled land of the sports department.
Another couple was present, one of the two being a teenager around the age of seventeen or eighteen, the other being her mother. A glimpse of their small silver badges told Ali that the teenage girl was being escorted by her mom for testing in Apparation.
"M-m-mom, I can't do this. Let's come back in a week. P-p-please," She looked to be on the brink of tears.
"Ashley, did you not beg me last week to bring you in to get tested? You can't back out again! It will be the fourth time!" Her mother exclaimed in aggravation. "This month!"
"B-b-but what if I... I... splinch!" The hysterical girl's voice grew in volume and pitch with each word and finished with a grand performance at the end, causing everyone in the lift to pause and cringe.
Those two left when the doors reopened on the Sixth floor, leading to the Department of Magical Transportation, the daughter being dragged from the lift after attempting to flee.
At each stop the enchanted memos swooped into the offices to find their destination and a few more flew in to replace them. Nearly all of the passengers had exited by the time Ali had reached her own stop on the second level; with a hidden breath of slight anxiety she emerged into the oak entrance corridor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A synthetic storm pounded the windows that she passed; a sign of another death within the Ministry. Eyes hardening and pace quickening, she tightly sweeped around a corner and only the most attentive witness would have noticed that as she raised her hands to push aside the grand double doors, an inch of space was present between her palms and the smooth paneling.
She had entered the realm of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in which her territory, the Auror Headquarters, was located.
The usual light hearted conversation over the vast amount of cubic offices was at the moment replaced by urgent discussion whether about the most recent loss of one of their fellow aurors, Derek Bussell, and his family, or the preparation of the vital mission that was to be carried out today. Moving photographs listened in and mutedly whispered to eachother, memos swooped speedily past faces, through legs, and were caught expertly and anxiously by their receivers who hastefully ripped them open and began to read, and Ali stalked past, ignoring the nervous glances she received from her colleagues, heading straight for Nymphadora Tonks. Tonks, as she preferred to be called, sat stiffly inside her own space, clutching her arms around her. Ali pushed aside some rogue quills and papers and sat down.
"I can't believe they're asking you to do this..." Tonks stated trying to hide the quiver of fear in her voice.
Ali laughed bitterly, "Oh, I believe it. What I don't understand is how the hell they actually got me to agree to it."
Tonks scoffed disgusted, "And I thought that things were bad with Robards in charge; not that that lasted very long."
"Gawain Robards wasn't a fool. He had no strategy, but he wasn't weak... I hear the man put up quite a fight against Antonin Dolohov. I can't say they same thing goes for Beowulf."
"Beowulf is a has-been trying to relive the glory days. He and Scrimgeour both are just worn out war heroes," Tonks shook her head, her currently spiky, maroon colored hair falling over her eyes.
"Neither of them know what the hell they're doing, and we're the ones risking our necks out there! Their big plan is to promote moral among the people. Which is a load of molding shit! Whole families are disappearing and we're supposed to smile and say everything's under control," Ali's clinching fists pulled her fingerless gloves taught, "With Dumbledore gone, nobody has any hope left and there's no way in hell Scrimgeour's "great plan" is going to fix that."
A door off to their left opened and one of the interns announced the beginning of the briefing. Glancing at each other, they grudgingly stood and lethargically made their way, along with about thirty other aurors, into the room.
"Information has purposely been leaked that our agent will be traveling through this area during this specific time to engage alone at the designated site. According to our sources, the targets shall be located primarily around point B. As our agent moves through the grid, be on the lookout for individuals who stand out, are traveling alone or in pairs, and could be concealing a wand. Assume that they'll be expecting you. Due to this, it is crucial that we go unnoticed. I stress that you do not move unless the signal is given. Should the targets engage, no one engages or reveals themselves until Agent Raye calls for back-up," Owen Beowulf spoke in a deep, warrior-like intensity; once a man immense in size and respect, stood at the head of a huge lecture hall still drawing on his deflated greatness. In front of him levitated a holographic image fabricated by his wand, a 3-D graph of London Streets in shimmering waves of magic.
Only a quarter of the vast room was filled with aurors; all attentively up straight with trained posture and a strained seriousness as they fixedly observed the briefing before them; feeling the mere eminence of the situation at hand. Each held before them a folder with maps of the region, likely targets present, and individual requirements for the dawning operation:
Alisha K. B. Raye
Agent Lupa
Operation "Up Creek"
Following the description of the knowledge held by the targets, Agent Lupa shall proceed through the preliminary zone absolutely avoiding engagement and endangerment of all civilians...
As Ali flipped through the paper-clipped stack of documents meant to provide her with enough info to pull this off, she re-capped on the seemingly fateful events that led to this.
"You need to let us help you!" She yelled at his retreating footsteps, "They'll kill you if you don't!"
"If they don't then the ministry will!" He sharply turned back to face her with his face contorted into fear and anger. His cold eyes screamed with helplessness. "There's nothing anyone can do now. Not you, not anyone!"
She walked towards him, "Fuck the ministry! The Order can help!" She fired back, taking hold of his shoulders.
"The Order has even less power then it did before. Dumbledore's dead Ali!" He shook his head defeated. "There's no one to stop him now."
"That's not true! There are people still capable of fighting back! And I don't mean Harry-freaking-Potter. Dumbledore made sure of that."
"What do you mean?"
Her hands dropped limply and subconsciously stared at them. "I mean... I never told you where I was. After my mom died."
He stared at her confused, "What are you talking about Ali? You were hidden."
"No, I wasn't just hidden. I'm not normal. I'm not just a witch... Not anymore. I don't think I ever was."
Beowulf's blabbing pulled her from her reminiscing. His hoarse voice discussing positioning didn't hold her attention for long and again she thought back.
"Agent Raye. We wish to offer you a prestigious position on the next mission that is to be carried out. The CEO so to speak." She stared blankly at the two aging men who sat before her with distortingly fake smiles.
"You want to make a sixteen year old witch in charge of an entire operation... Cut the bull shit..."
"It is our understanding that You-Know-Who has a particular interest in you," Beowulf said as he and Scrimgeour sat opposite her, exchanging side-ways glances.
"So? He has 'particular interest' in a lot of people."
"We need an attraction. To draw some of the higher members of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's minions together into one central area. Preferably without their knowledge of our presence." Scrimgeour began with a smile unsuccessfully masked with reassurance and persuasion. Ali Wasn't exactly falling for it.
"... You mean you need bait... So you can try and take on the big guys... So you can look really good to the fear stricken public-"
"To reassure them that the situati-" began Beowulf.
"-is under control?" Her evergreen eyes sparked with growing annoyance and a simmering temper. "Do you even realize why Voldemort wants me?" The two senior ranking men flinched.
"I-it has been made aware to us you are a highly skilled fighter, which I'm sure would be quite valuable to the Dark Lord." Scrimgeour's smile faltered. "Attributes which would alost increase the chance of a successful operation."
"I'm going to put this simply Sir, forgive me if I'm not enthusiastic about the Dark Lord OR the Ministry capitalizing on my life." Spite-filled words matched her agitated expression.
"Miss Raye," Scrimgeour was digging himself an even deeper hole. "It is your duty as a Ministry of Magic Auror to assist in the capture-"
"Sir, throw a killing curse at me, and no matter what I can do, I still die," It's amazing, she thought to herself. They really are idiots. "With twenty-plus Death Eaters surrounding me, no matter how trained, the odds are less then encouraging."
"You'd have back-up" Beowulf began before once again being shot down.
"I don't give a sh-" She was quickly interrupted.
"Miss Raye. I'm aware that most of your family-"
"All of my family, Scrimgeour." She didn't hide the fact she was pissed off anymore; especially at his gall to bring up this piece of her most unpleasant history. "'Most' infers that there's some left."
"That 'most' of your family has been lost to the followers of You-Know-Who. Some plenty recent. It is also my understanding that a few remain of your distant relatives and that they have been involved with the Dark Lord for some time now. " She pushed herself rigidly from her chair, but Scrimgeour didn't stop. "You'd have the opportunity to encounter them. I'm sure you'd particually wish to confront those who dealt the final blows. They'll be, of course, attending this 'little gathering.'"
The color drained form her cheeks and her eyes hardened slightly.
"You have the motive to engage solo and you'd attract the crowd we're looking for. All we would need is the right "information" leaked and the trap is set." Beowulf cautiously spoke. Her skin was pale and that spark that usually annoyed the hell out of him in her youthful eyes faded, and yet glinted with a deadly storm.
With a deep controlled breath, and eyes staring distantly, she shakily stepped behind and slid the chair back into position and began to step silently towards the oak door. Pausing only for a moment, "I'll think about it..."
"Splendid! I'l-" He clapped his hands together in celebration and with far too much optimism, began to stand up.
She stopped walking; she'd had enough.
Scrimgeour was slammed violently back into his chair as if tackled and nearly toppled backwards. He steadied himself confusedly and massaged his cranium as he looked back to Ali. Her right shoulder angled towards them; arm raised parallel to the floor and hand flexed. She still looked towards the door. "I said I'll think about it... Don't make me reconsider." She walked out.
"Agent Raye," People were filing out towards their cubicals. The briefing was complete; they were off to prep now. Beowulf was calling upon her now. "I have some details to go over with you." She disdainfully stood and after glancing at an anxious Tonks, followed the bane of her existence into that all too familiar office.
He held the door for her in an inpatient manner through which she rebelliously meandered through and rolled her sage tinted eyes. That uncomfortable silence rose between the two. That kind that neither particularly wished to break, but one that halted an escape.
"Raye, are you prepared for the operation?" He eyed her apparel with a skeptical scrutiny.
She penetrated his confidence with a brutal glare. She wouldn't honor that statement with a response.
"It is crucial that this mission goes successfully. I hope you are taking it seriously." Her gaze didn't falter.
"Agent Ra-"
"All preparations have been made..." Contained words. Colder then ice.
"Good..." Beowulf shuffled uncomfortably.
"I assume that we've ensured the targets have no knowledge of our plan." She questioned with an accusing quality.
"Of course..." Beowulf began to flush from the scrutiny.
"...You mentioned that you wanted to discuss more details?" She methodically strummed her fingers on the burgandy stained oak desktop.
"Y-yes, I did, uh," He nervously shuffled through folders and piles of paperwork. After several minutes of nothing but the sound of drumming fingers and the rearrangement of paper, the desired document was located and passed almost cautiously to the young auror.
"This is the primary target; we recently found out she shall lead their pursuit to seize you," Ali glanced disdainfully over the parchment.
"I hope you realize that this will never work..." Her shaded eyes overpowered his own. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out."
"You doubt yourself?"
"Doesn't everybody?"
"You possess more skills on the battle field then even myself," She snorted and tried to stifle her laughter, "yet you take no pride, or rarely even acknowledgment."
She stood up and purposefully responded, "My confidence is tested when I'm being used as bait."
"You needn't worry. You're more then capable for this task."
"I'm no superhero Owen. I'm not some invincible god, just a being of matter. I bleed and die like everybody else... My mother did; I just hope I don't go because a bunch of jack-asses felt like showing off with their 'toy'. "
"You've got more power then you think, you just need to wise up a bit." This was beginning to get annoying and his comments were met with a dead stare.
"Save the pep-talk Owen. Besides, we'll see who needs to wise up a bit when this mission botches," She scanned the rest of the paper, "It says you want her alive?"
"Yes, that is crucial."
She smirked with a broken quality of dread and made her way for the door, "Not making any promises." And left.
Owen Beowulf shook his head to himself and thought, "Always has to make a dramatic exit."
The mission had begun.
Rain relentlessly drizzled from the grey, dreary sky, descending at terminal velocity unto the cement walkway, the umbrellas of tourists, and the eyelashes of an unhappy auror. Already her almost black-brown hair was soaked dripping with rain fall, and her knee high boots splashed through collective puddles despite the rain having started five minutes ago. A cloak like muggle coat shielded her slender frame from the increasing wind torrents, which brought promise of lightning on it's breath, but the raised hood offered no protection to her stinging face. One fingerless-gloved hand reached inside the cloak into a concealed pocket, turning the dial on her i-pod, blasting "Passive," by A Perfect Circle
"Dead as dead can be," my doctor tells me
But I just can't believe him, ever the optimistic one
I'm sure of your ability to become my perfect enemy
Wake up and face me, don't play dead cause maybe
Someday I will walk away and say, "You disappoint me,"
Maybe you're better off this way"
The expression of nervousness and distress on her face were well controlled, giving off the impression that this full-fledged assassin was hormonal and wanted to cry in a corner. People could be so naive.
She was five blocks from the designated engagement point. If the Death Eaters were ancy on their arses to capture her, they wouldn't avoid doing so in a densely muggle populated area. She was expecting the attack to come at any time. Inwardly scoffing at herself, she couldn't help but think, "God, I'm no better then Moody."
Halting a street corner, she took the time to strategically survey the are. Pulling a folded map of the district from her side-slung bag, she pretended to compare the street names posted nearby to the small lettering on her colorful, useless map. Her eyes sweeped from doorway to alley in search of surveying eyes, or someone who stopped nearby only to survey some random product in a store window, "Come on out you fools," she whispered to herself.
"Leaning over you here, cold and catatonic
I catch a brief reflection of what you could and might have been
It's your right and your ability
To become…my perfect enemy…"
Swinging a right, her stride purposeful and deceivingly innocent she would soon be there.
Ali glanced discreetly at the people around her. A man ate an American style hotdog to her left, dripping ketchup onto his satin tye and muttering profanity. Another, middle aged, chatted cheerfully with a young women at least twenty years younger then him, his eyes suggestive. A young girl's eyes watched back smiling innocently, unknowing. A couple exited a Disney store on her right and acknowledged eachother silently. A homeless man stood in his darkened alley way and reached for his pocket.
The hairs on the back of Ali's neck stood up.
The woman in front of her. Her skin. Her dark hair. Her eyes dull and heartless.
"Wake up (we'll catch you) and face me (come one now),
Don't play dead (don't play dead)
Cause maybe (because maybe)
Someday I'll (someday I'll) walk away and say, "You disappoint me,"
Maybe you're better off this way"
"I give you kudos Bellatrix. I didn't notice you for a whole ten seconds," Ali sneered just loud enough.
The woman dropped back, her partner not even taking notice, and walked along side Ali tauntingly, "Speaking of kudos, please accept my congratulations on your willingness to walk into our hands. Quite impressive."
Maybe you're better off this way
Maybe you're better off this way
Maybe you're better off this way
You're better of this; you're better off this;
Maybe you're better off!
Ali hardened her eyes, She was still being used. She wouldn't forget that either option resulted in manipulation. Oh the joy of her life.
"And I bet you jumped at the chance to come and turn me to the dark side. I hate to foil your plans, but I already know you're not my father," The raven-haired woman scoffed.
"I suppose I'll have to beat that cockiness out of you."
"Oh, thy wit astounds me." Eyes stayed forward. .
"You'll learn to bow down to your superiors. You will soon see the all-mighty powers of darkness at it's most glorious and unmerciful."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but..."
They had yet to look at eachother.
"Wake up (can't you) and face me (come on now),
Don't play dead (don't play dead)
Cause maybe (because maybe)
Someday I'll (someday I'll) walk away and say, "You fucking disappoint me!"
Maybe you're better off this way
Go ahead and play dead
I know that you can hear this
Go ahead and play dead
Why can't you turn and face me?
Why can't you turn and face me?"
Strides uninterrupted, Ali proceeded to stick her foot out and catch her cousin's ankle, resulting in a face plant. The downed woman stared at the rough cement side walk and pounded it with her fist as Ali swung around, still pacing backwards, and called back...
"Why can't you turn and face me?
Why can't you turn and face me?"
"...I'm not impressed."
"You fucking disappoint me!
Passive aggressive bullshit"
The track ended; she spun back around and sprinted into the darkness of an alleyway. The headphones, having fallen from the ears as she violently ripped back the hood, spouted unheard music.
They were engaging, the only problem was they were still four blocks from the designated engagement point... in a muggle shopping district... Shit...
End
A/N: Well, thanks for reading. I hope it was somewhat entertaining. If you guys have any suggestions, feel free to post them. Post anything and I'll love you forever.