Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters you know.

Oh, and the first line is, of course, by Dickens. Not me. I'm not that good.

Prompt from Heartdamoose on thirdfloorcorridor: The year is 2007, the peak of the modern world and its technology. The old traditions, as well as the power of the wizarding world, have deteriorated under the influence of muggles and their power of technology. Now only a handful of wizards are left, all of them a part of a secret committee sworn to do justice to the dark slums of the London streets, where not only muggle violence takes place, but a darker magic as well.

Harry Potter is one of the agencies best spies, and is out on one of the biggest missions of his lifetime. The question is, will he succeed this ordeal, or will darkness sweep over him forever?

A/N: Ok, I might continue this…but it's mostly for the assignment.

Warnings: Mild language, Semi-graphic violence.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of the muggles, and not of magic. Or so they thought…

As silent as a shadow, a dark-clad figure slipped between the bars of the fence. Each bar was about half a meter apart and was also heat sensitive. It was a good thing, therefore, that the shadow figure had no body heat at all.

The cold intruder silently padded across the large lawn and slipped into the main building, all the while watching the guards pacing in front of the main gates. Idiots, he thought. If someone were going to get in, why would they use the front entrance? Oh well. Makes my job that much easier, and with that thought, the dark man slid through the open window mere inches off of the grassy ground.

As he noiselessly slid into the dark hallway, he heard voices through the door across from the window. He glanced around as he seemed to melt into the surrounding shadows. He carefully laid an ear against the polished wood of the door and listened intently.

"There's no way they're still out there! You said so! You promised that they'd all be gone! Yet those…those…monsters continue to contaminate my city!" a man inside ranted.

Oi, who're you calling monsters? We're not the ones that went on a mass rampaging genocide! the unseen listener thought indignantly. I'll show you monster, you cowering, blubbering… his mental tirade was cut off as another voice answered the first.

This voice was a smooth baritone that made the hairs rise on the spy's neck. However, it was not because of what one might think. He knew that voice. It was the voice of a man that he thought was for their cause, not plotting against it. That traitor! The next time I meet Snape is going to be the last time anyone is going to see him! the peeved intruder thought. He set aside his developing plans for assassination and listened to the voice of that…that…FIEND.

"I assure you that there will be none left when my group has finished with them. No uncontrolled ones, anyway. We will have them all dealt with. We only need a few more weeks. Perhaps a month, at the most."

"You said you'd have them all gone within a month six months ago!! I want them gone now!!" the first man yelled.

"Mr. Hoffman, please, you must lower your voice. You never know who might be wandering the halls…"

"Forget that! Get rid of them, Snape. Get rid of them all! And soon, or so help me I'll turn you in to the government before you can even think spell."

There was a pregnant pause. There was a rustling of cloth, and finally Snape quietly responded.

"Very well, David. They will be gone. But so not think that you can intimidate me. I am much more of a match for both you and your pathetic guard here. The only reason you are still safe from them is because they are not yet positive of who is the head of operations. They will find you, and if you antagonize me, I may just happen to be…unavailable at the most inopportune time," he said in a deadly calm voice.

There was more movement from inside the room, and the eavesdropper slid to the side of the door and pressed up against the wall, hiding in the shadows. The door swung open and Severus Snape swept out of the room in a rather smart black suit with an equally dark coat over his arm, pressing a black bowler to his head. His clothing is as charming as ever, the spy noticed. He then turned to the still open door.

Looking inside, he saw the target, David Hoffman, sitting on a couch facing a fire and sipping a glass of what seemed to be scotch. Very good scotch if the smell was any indication. The spy was extremely happy that he was getting the chance to off this one. He'd always thought Hoffman to be a uselessly pompous man, much like Fudge had been. Now that he knew him to be Head of Ops for the hunting down and extermination of all magical creatures, his mind was clear. He had his orders, they all did. Every spy, assassin, plant, and soldier of Wiz Co. knew what they had to do. Oh how he would enjoy this.

Quietly, Harry Potter, former Savior of the now-non-existent Wizarding World, vampire, and master assassin, slid noiselessly into the dimly lit room. He padded silently to the table and poured himself some of the scotch. No reason not to enjoy himself, was there?

Hoffman heard the clink of the glass and he spoke without turning. "Did you forget something, Snape?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"I'm not exactly Severus, but yes, I did forget something…" Harry said calmly.

The other man whirled around and stared. "Wh-who are y-y-you?" he stammered.

"Your worst nightmare," Harry responded. Wow, cliché much? he thought. "I am Harry Potter. I'm sure you've heard of me from our dear friend Severus, who, might I add, will be receiving a visit from me very soon. No recollection? None at all? Then allow me to jog your memory," he said as he stalked toward the whimpering man. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I am the strongest wizard alive. I am the only wizard-turned-vampire to survive more than a year without drinking the blood of an innocent. I am the man that defeated the Darkest Evil of the century. I am the deadliest agent of what is left of the Wizarding community. I am the one that is going to give you the most painful and humiliating death that you could possibly imagine. I am the man who is going to make you beg for mercy with your dying breath, and I will not give it to you. I am the one who will make you the thing you hate the most."

With each statement, Harry took a step forward. Hoffman blubbered unintelligibly as he crept closer. Finally, Harry was standing over the man. He leaned over and whispered in the ear of the hysterical man, "I am the one who will make you a vampire."

With those words, Harry bit into the fat neck, drinking in the blood of the screaming muggle. He quickly drained almost all of the blood, sucking in a way that he knew to be extremely painful as he slowly dragged a knife over the skin of the petrified man. He stopped right before the man passed out and pulled back. Harry quickly slashed his own wrist and allowed a few drops of cold blood to fall into the open mouth of the man lying before him. With that, he slid back and out the door just as guards came running into the room with guns at the ready. They let out strangled cries at the sight of the respected politician sitting there in a twitching pool of blood with a message carved into his chest. Harry fled the grounds with a feral grin gracing his features.

Hah! That's all for that bastard! Now for the traitor… and with that thought, he disappeared into the night.

The soldiers looked at the bloodied chest of David Hoffman, reading the haunting message: "Don't worry, I'll come back to life. Vampire."