"Hello? Hm...? Yeah, I'll accept... hello?"
"Hello."
"Who is this?"
"My name's Harry Potter... I'm a Devil Hunter taking on the Evans Secret Hunting Legacy... I heard you had some jobs, and that you take on employers who deal with the certain type of... supernatural aspects of the world, if you catch my meaning."
"Well, all depends."
"Is there any way we can meet in person?"
"I... suppose. It depends where you're calling me from."
"Paris, France. If you're able to meet, I'll be awaiting you under the Eiffel Tower, exactly in the center of the base. You'll be able to find me wearing a black vest with the insignia of a stylized curved red S surrounded by a golden ring, with a white slash mark over both ring and S mark at a ninety degree angle. The insignia is on both the back of my vest, the right pectoral of the vest pocket, and on a large guitar case that I'll have strapped on my back like a sword almost. I'll wait three days, and if you don't show up, then I guess this is goodbye."
Click.
Harry slowly removed his hand off the phone, and ignored the change deposit from the payphone as he returned to his parked motorbike, and drove off to find a 24-hour motel, or some sort of inn to stay the night. Although, he was prepared to find France's version of The Leaky Cauldron to sleep at if he couldn't find a motel or inn. Back in America, Morrison closed his cell.
"Potter, huh? Evans Secret Hunting Legacy... could he be an Evans by blood?"
He dials another number into his cell phone, before awaiting the pick-up.
"Yo. Devil May Cry. Who's calling?"
"Dante. I won't be in town for a couple of days. Something's come up and I need to head out."
"Oh? What's the deal, Morrison?"
"Possible new employer... says his name is Harry Potter and he's taking on the Evans Secret Hunting Legacy. It got me interested... do me a favor will ya?"
"Yeah, what is it, Morrison?"
"Don't destroy the city."
A scoff is heard on the other end of the call.
"Screw you."
Click.
Morrison chuckled, before snapping his cell shut.
Going On a Demon Hunting Trip
Disclaimer & Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter, the world of Harry Potter, or any and all official characters from the Harry Potter series itself. J.K Rowling, the woman behind the series, owns this genre along with other companies and whatnot that help make this series enjoyable in the world. I do not own the Devil May Cry Series, the world of Devil May Cry, or any and all official characters from the video game series (and its animated series). Capcom has official contract of Devil May Cry. All I own is any form of Original Characters that show up as filler.
I'm surprised people like this. Especially since the whole beginning (that was bolded) was part of an omake which had been something for the story Make A Wish. Of course, I'm going to have fun with these ideas of mine.
Hermione yawned as she heard a tapping on her window. As she tries to wake up, she shuffled to her window. She opens her eyes more when she recognizes the familiar white form waiting to be let in.
"Hedwig."
She opens her window, and Harry's favorite owl in the whole world flew in and lands on her owl stand she bought from Diagon Alley before school started for her previous fifth year.
"Hedwig, what are you doing here?" the girl yawned.
Hedwig simply sticks out her leg, indicating she had a message to deliver. Untying it, he looks the message over. On her second read over, she was now fully awake.
Hermione,
Take my wand, and take care of Hedwig. I'm going on a trip. And if you're reading this, I'm already two days gone, and I have a feeling certain people aren't too happy I left on a "wild teenage vacation".
Love you,
Harry
P.S.: I'll bring you a souvenir. Something I know you'll love. And Hedwig likes bacon, so stock up.
While the light blush she developed from the way he ended the short message, she realized the wand taped to the end of the parchment. Looking back at Hedwig, she was simply staring at her, while her wing was extended to her closed door? Was she... pointing?
"What is Harry doing going on a trip? To where? Oh... I need to owl Ron..."
Hedwig made a noise, and once again emphasizing her "pointing to the door". Hermione opens her door and off she flies, to her kitchen. Hermione would find her there with a bowl from the drying rack set by the sink, with the glass bowl full of water, and she's drinking from it. It'd remain a mystery how an owl managed to get herself a drink of water...
She turned to the family grandfather clock in the hallway. It chimes at 7:00...
CLANG!
She jumped and turned back, only to find Hedwig now perched on one of the chairs, and on the stove was a pan... how the bloody hell did she take the bacon out of the icebox without her knowing OR hearing?
=0=0=
The Eiffel Tower was one of France's famous monuments. This is the location of one Harry Potter. He looked a bit of an odd person, however, many ignored him, thinking he was some foreign visitor from the States, or maybe Japan. Still in his clothes he made just for himself, minus his trench coat, his guitar case (holding his sword Ascension) was strapped on his back. And he made sure his gun was cleverly hidden under the black vest he opted to wear today. He stayed for the two days. The morning of the day he made the call to Morrison, he explored Paris, and on the second day, found France's equivalence to Diagon Alley. There, he managed to find their wand shop after a visit to the Gringotts branch they have in France (to withdraw several thousand Galleons for emergency money, and some converted to muggle currency). It was a damn good idea after the whole bullshit with the Tri-Wizard Tournament to learn some French, as well as some other languages with that helpful spell he discovered at school.
FLASHBACK
Harry, keeping his infamous scar cleverly hidden by use of some skin-tone make-up, and colored contacts to change his green eyes to a simple chocolate brown, he had entered the shop one French wizard pointed him to as their wand shop.
The bell dings softly as he opened the door and steps into the establishment.
"Bonjour monsieur," a voice in the back says, as a man who appeared to be in his mid 40s exited, and to a shelf on his right to pack away some wands.
"Bonjour," Harry greeted back, "Je suis ... ici en espérant me trouver une baguette. Mon ancienne coup de baguette qui appartenait à mon père brisé."
"Ahh, c'est jamais bon," the wand maker of France murmured, "Avez-vous le reste?"
"Non, monsieur. J'ai enterré la baguette reste la tombe de mon père."
The wand maker nods. "Ah. Mes condoléances. Je ne peux pas m'empêcher de voir que vous êtes en anglais."
"Yes, my father's side. Je sais que certains de la langue, mais seulement pour me déplacer."
"Then why don't I talk in English?" the man says with a small chuckle.
"That'd work."
The man gave a smile that reminded Harry of Ollivander. "Very well. You need a new wand. I can help you with zat. But why not my competitor in England?"
"Ollivander cannot find me a suitable match, which was strange. He normally finds one for just about anybody. He says I'm one of the very few who is sent away with locations of other wand making shops in Europe."
The wand maker nodded, and turns to gather some from random shelving on the walls. Harry mentally was glad the man didn't pick up on the lie.
"Here monsieur, try this. It iz Ashwood, with the talon of a Griffin, at 12 inches. Springy, yet flexible in charms."
Harry accepted, and gave it a flick. Nothing...
"Hm, not zat... Try this one." Taking the wand away, and replacing it with another, another flick... nothing.
Harry tried many different wands, and some had a form of connection, but nothing felt properly right to him. The woods varied from beech, to blood, yellowwood, zebra, walnut, oak, kou, cocobolo, and even Blackwood. The cores were heartstrings of dragons, to various other proud animals, hair strands, few feathers, and one was of the hair of a Manticore. Many different wands of varying lengths, but no solid connections...
"I wonder..." the man took all the wands off, and heads into the back. Harry waited, until the man returned, taking off the lid of a red slender box. The wand inside was exotic. Black and a crimson red tint, a spiraling fusion, with a diamond weave texture applied to the wand. The handle was a smooth thick accent, and a purplish tint with the end a spot of red.
"I got this from a trip to ze east. It was given to me from a man who spent eighteen decades creating wands for magicals in areas of Asia, Japan, China, the Koreans, and even ze Philippines. It iz a really unique wand, monsieur... the wand itself is crafted finely from Japanese Black Pine fused with Japanese Red Pine, with the handle crafted from Purple Heart. The core iz a unique one but very rare combo: the scale of a serpent said to be from ze eight-headed demon snake with ze tail feather of a rare white phoenix. It iz ten and a half inches; ze wand iz uniquely skilled in magic zat can handle heavy battle movements, but iz also capable of charms, runic magic, and magic that deal in combat. A very unusual, but very exotic wand not crafted by French hands. I wonder if you... are zat person..."
Harry accepted the wand. Suddenly, a thrum of energy washed over him, and even the French wand maker could feel the sudden feel of power wafting briefly in the aura, surrounding his English customer. He backs away as Harry gripped the wand gingerly and yet with the hold of a hardened warrior of ancient times. A half circle he crafts in the air before him, eyes closed as sparkles of energy begin to spew from the wand tip. They did not fall, but remain hanging in the air. He stretches his hand up, forming a tall crescent before a slow sharp decline down at sixty degrees. A full revolve, and a final stroke upward, the aura buffets the shop before it dies completely, and the sparks fall harmlessly to the ground, extinguishing.
"Monsieur, I have had zat wand for sixty years, and no one native to Europe haz taken grasp of zat wand, until today. I have left out... this wand iz capable of combating against demon magic... you, monsieur, are a very interesting wizard."
Harry stares at the wand. When he took hold of his first wand he bought from Ollivanders, he felt a wonderful sensation, a feeling of connection, warmth. With this wand, he felt those very same sensations, and more.
"May I know of ze name of my interesting customer?"
"Black," he says. "My name's James Regulus Black."
END FLASHBACK
Underneath the barrels, there was a slender compartment. When the gun is uncocked to the reload stage, there his new wand resides within that small compartment, freely given to him by the weird French wand maker. But he dare not take the tri-barreled gun out in the open of the public eye. Many people would take him as some criminal, or worse, some undercover terrorist. He would love to keep himself from being chased by Interpol under false assumptions.
"Hm, I wonder what Sirius would say if he knew I used his family name," he says to himself.
He then pictured Sirius was boasting in joy about having a godson named Mr. Black, and rubbing it into the greasy big-nosed Potions Professor, otherwise known as "Snivelious" Snape.
"Excuse me, but are you Mr. Potter?"
He blinks, and looks up to see an older man towering over him by about a foot and a half in height. He had short blond hair neatly combed, a mustache, and was wearing a bowler hat, dressed in a brown suit with dark blue tie.
"Yeah. You're Morrison, the man I called?"
"Yes I am. Huh... I expected someone much older."
Harry shrugged with a slight smirk.
"Let's discuss our over lunch."
The adult and young teenager decided to explore the Eiffel Tower, where they went to a restaurant inside on one of the floors. After ordering for a private booth the place had, and finding the privacy to be right, Morrison got right to the truth.
"So, Mr. Potter, you told me two days ago you were inheriting your family legacy."
"Yes. You were hard to track. You deal with things that many would assume is the supernatural."
Morrison nods, sipping his coffee.
"So, I have to admit, you're too young to be dealing in the demon extermination business. How long?"
"Twelve years old. I discovered my mother's family's hidden legacy. Began to learn more, found an interesting fact that my mother's family have been around since the times of Sparda himself sealed the gates of hell to save the human race. That's when I discovered some demons lurking in my neighborhood. And it's when this came in handy."
He takes out a gun, and shows it to Morrison.
"You can say it's an interesting gun," said Harry, as Morrison gave the gun the look-over. "It's a semi-automatic. Of course, outward appearances will say it has three chambers, an 18 shot weapon, six per chamber."
Harry took the offered gun back and he quickly holsters it away.
"The weapon however is a specialized Devil Arm. The rounds are instilled with the demonic power of Cerberus, high accuracy with combat long-range sight, and if I focus on the charge function of the weapon, unleash a tri-fireball shot. It also comes with an interesting fourth chamber compartment under the barrels. Of course, the bullets it fire of... it's like magic. It's always loaded with ammunition, but I never run out."
"Devil Arm, eh? Tell me, where you found such a thing?" questioned Morrison.
"In an old castle I stumbled upon wandering like a lost boy... trust me, the dog was hard to defeat, and I was only eleven years old at the time. It was very interested that I with a unique but powerful family legacy could triumph against a creature from the underworld's gates, and offered its soul to me in this tri-barreled firearm form. I've kept it ever since."
Morrison stares at the teen, impressed, but also curious of the boy.
"Interesting..."
"Yeah. I learned all I could about my family, about the things mum's family did in the past. Thy dealt with things of a supernatural nature. But any historical findings or a family tree of my mum's family is hard to locate. All I know is they've been around since the Legendary Dark Knight's time, and that they've slain demons for a living. One bit I found was they once dealt with a vampire known in common times as the ancient Dracula. But, in my mum's journals, it was supposed to be a story."
"And you've decided to take upon their legacy at the age of twelve?"
Harry nods. "Yeah."
Morrison sips his drink.
"I was interested in meeting you. When you told me you were taking on the Evans Family Legacy, I wondered if you were of teh Evans family that I knew of, before the entire family were mysteriously hunted down by forces unknown. But, I can see you are of them. They say that an Evans trait is green eyes. You have green eyes, almost a vivid tint of pure uncut emerald."
"My mum had green eyes... as far as I know, only my aunt Petunia is left as she's my deceased mum's sister. But she hates my mum because she was always the favored one, and when she went to this expensive boarding school, the drift between them made her hate my mum, even after she was killed along with dad by some madman psychopath. And because I have mum's eyes, she hated me too."
"You grew up abused?" he questioned.
"Somewhat, but I survived. I had some people who did care for me when I was a kid. Whenever I needed to get away. She hated me even more when I followed in my mum's footsteps going to that same boarding school. The man my mum married was from a rich family, and I inherited their fortune. Through mum, when I discovered her hidden mimetic legacy, it also came with papers that I can file to be fully emancipated in the adult world. I've taken care of myself, and continue to do so... while also dealing with the usual demons that dare pop up around Europe."
"Heh. You're just like another employer I got. His name's Dante, and he runs a detective agency in Maine called Devil May Cry. Like you, most of the jobs he takes on deals with the supernatural, and also fights against demons that have eluded from hell and exist as humans. You know what, Harry, I like you. I can tell you're an interesting young man, and a powerful one when dealing with demons and other monsters of the dark. If you ever come to Emanel or Capulet City in Maine at the States, call me. I'll probably have some jobs for you to do if my other employer Dante doesn't take them."
Harry smiled. He had another source of income to work around with without having to fully depend on his family's fortune at Gringotts.
"I'd like that."
"Nice. Now, I have a friend here in Europe who has jobs in the same category that I dab into that can help you when I'm not around Europe on my few oversea trips."
"Oh? What's his name?" Harry questions.
"His name is Sekai Ishtal."
"Hmm?"
Harry tensed suddenly, and Morrison saw him tense. A sudden dark feeling wafted in the air. But as quick as it came, that feeling of evil faded... until chaos broke out. The music in the background faded, as the cries of humans saw ice forming, and then one man cried out as he was struck by a scythe. Harry got up, grasping his gun. He takes out Ascension from the case, and sheathed it to his back.
"Morrison, looks like we'll talk later... For now, get everybody off the first floor and to safety. I'll handle these demons."
"Sure, but you be careful, kid."
Harry smiles, as he puts back in his colored contacts, masking the green with brown. "I'll be fine."
A woman screamed as an ice-looking demon with another demon with wings, a scythe, and wore a scarecrow head complete with varying bandages wrapping around its thick arms and legs, was coming to the woman who was shielding her child. But before they could kill, the woman and the child heard several gunshots.
The music playing in the background changed to one of rock and roll.
"Hey, pick on someone your own size... or better yet, pick on me."
They turned at him, despite injuries, but they were cleaved by Harry's sword.
"You, get to safety."
The woman ran, holding her child.
Harry chuckles as the demons started to come at him. The demons shriek and lunge at Harry, who charges at them. It was a monster of a battle, one many would only contribute to that of a sci-fi movie or comic book.
Standing where I should be
Believing as I'm told to believe
Being who I should be
Doing what I should do
Did you hear what I said?
Did you get what I meant?
What you saw is an illusion
You're living in delusion
Going on and on I have the future in my hands
Getting lose from days I never could get over
Going on and on until I'm finally myself
Getting out of this dishonest world I never wanted
Now is the time
Now is the time
A scarecrow fell to his sword.
"Elena Huston, the Queen of Rock... she sings beautiful," Harry commented to himself, before twisting from a scythe and puts a bullet in a Scarecrow's skull. They roar as they charge from varying directions, but more gunfire ring out, and they're gunned down. Two Frosts took this change with blizzard attacks but Harry rolled out of the way, leveling his gun and firing more bullets from Cerberus. He then charges, gripping the blade and cuts at a forward sweep. Running up the monster, he leapt into the air and then stabs down, piercing its brain. Taking a leap before he got clawed, he fires more bullets killing the second Frost.
"Damn... he's just like Dante," Morrison whispered, watching the scene from a safe place in the restaurant.
As he lands, three demons burst at him from literally nowhere, but Harry countered them. The first floor was clear of any civilians, but many were still hiding, and watching this unreal scenario happening right before their eyes. Harry was a speed demon as he kept running, the music pumping his blood, his swordsmanship a unique blend of skills unheard of. And that gun of his many saw never seemed to run out of bullets. The blood spilled by the slain monsters stained the floors.
Going on and on I have the future in my hands
Getting lose from days I never could get over
Going on and on until I'm finally myself
Getting out of this dishonest world I never wanted
The last Frost was taken out... until, it left the final demon which appears and made a desperation attack, roaring as it charged the demon killer. But Harry twirls his sword fast before flinging it. Immediately, he pulls the trigger on Cerberus...
Chase after time
It sailed like an arrow fired from a bow, and pierces the scythe-wielding demon through the head followed by several bullets in its throat...
Chase after time
... And embeds into the nearby wall...
"Heh..."
The music eventually ends, and silence reigns on the floor.
Morrison was impressed. "Yeah, he's almost like Dante." He looks around, as the people he had hid in the restaurant were now starting to come out. "So much for lunch..."
Harry stared at the last demon as blood drips from its wound in the neck. It looked different from the others, and now Harry saw why: it was a demon in a human disguise it shed. The woman he "saved earlier" had been the trapper.
"Huh... it almost worked, but you didn't expect me to be this good, right?"
The demonic woman with the "child" (which was in fact its fused scythe blade), snarls weakly as Harry crossed the distance, and looks at the purplish freak of nature.
"You'll regret it boy... you'll die, along with these foolish flesh bags."
Harry made a crude remark. "Yeah, but not while I'm around..."
The she-demon scathingly snarls, but it was hard to with the bullets puncturing her throat. With a firm grip, he removes his blade, before cleaving the demon's head off its neck. The she-demon shatters into blue mist through the broken window, carried by the winds. Harry holsters Cerberus, and sheathed Ascension on a spin of his heels.
Morrison stares at Harry.
"Eh... why do I have a feeling I'm going to obtain another pain in the ass?"
Back at Devil May Cry, Dante unexpectedly sneezed.
=0=0=
"Welcome everyone." Dumbledore smiled as his fellow freedom fighters against evil take their seats at the table in the meeting room. "I am grateful for those who stand up against the forces of darkness. So, any news on the whereabouts of Harry...?"
"My son Ron got an owl from Hermione two days ago. Harry's owl showed up at her residence with a message. Apparently Harry's been gone four days before we discovered he went missing," Molly explained, "the poor boy is all there all alone, or under capture by whoever kidnapped him."
"For all we know," Arthur spoke up, "he could have very well had left on his own."
"Well, I believe he DID leave on his own," Sirius said.
"And what makes you say that, Black," Snape said with his usual set-glare.
"Well Snivelious," he says using the school nickname, which made Snape's ire increase towards the man, "the motorcycle I gave Harry on his fifteenth birthday is missing."
"You gave Harry that dreadful muggle deathtrap?" Molly shouted in shock, rounding on Sirius.
"But what about that scene we came across?" Hestia questions.
"Well, from my sources I have in the muggle world, the Dursleys, specifically that man Vernon, made a bad dealing with the muggle mafia, so the house damage was caused by them. But that wasn't until two days after it was initially discovered Harry to be missing when... Dung... fled his post to drink again."
The dark-skinned man makes this point by glaring at the sniveling cowardly drunkard.
"Why do we keep that idiot around? The last time he left his post, Harry almost got killed by the Ministry and Umbitch's attempt of killing him via those bloody Dementors," Sirius yells.
Dumbledore flicks his wand, and a cannon sound rocks the room, bringing silence.
"So... he's not kidnapped as we believed. That is good, but he's still out there, and driving the motorcycle of Sirius's. We need to keep a track of him, and bring him home before any of Voldemort's Death Eaters find him."
As usual, the Dark Lord's name is mentioned, everybody but him flinch. What pansies...
"What else?"
"Well, Hermione has Harry's wand, and Hedwig is with her. She refuses to find Harry when Hermione tried to send a letter to the boy, and our owls refuse to do the same," Arthur tells Dumbledore.
"We have his trunk with his school stuff, including James' cloak," Remus says next, remembering Sirius taking the trunk back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and putting it in Harry's bedroom on the second floor.
"Although the key is missing."
Dumbledore frowned. Harry was close to reaching wizarding maturity, but even if he could, he'll only have access to his trust vault by his own.
"We'll have to keep watch if Harry makes any withdrawals from Gringotts. Bill, maybe you can check Gringotts in Diagon if Harry ever visited the bank."
"I can try," Bill replies. "But I doubt I'll be able to find out anything. The Goblins pride on strict confidentiality when it comes to trusted customers. Since Harry's from a well-known ancient family, the Potter name is a trusted name at the bank."
"Try your best, regardless," Dumbledore says.
"I'll bet the current thought is that he has probably used his knowledge of the muggle world to find a suitable place to hide," Moody adds his thoughts. "Hell, I doubt even most of us with experience in the muggle world, we'll be able to stay out for awhile with limited wizarding contact. Out of most of us, only Kingsley will have some knowledge, and Lupin as well as he's tried to find a job in the muggle world in the past after that damnable war with the Dark Lord."
Dumbledore sighs.
"We need more information. First off, where would a teenager go to escape? If you do have any whereabouts of Mr. Potter, try and bring him back without doing anything rash. The sooner we find him, the sooner he'll be safe from Death Eaters."
"Dumbledore," Kingsley spoke up, "I have something else you and the others should know."
"Yes?"
"As you are aware, lately there have been some strange things happening in the muggle world that cannot even be explained by the Ministry. It's even attracted the Department of Mysteries. Until today, hat is. It is around 5:47 PM in Paris, at the Eiffel Tower, when the first floor of the tower was attacked by monsters. The Muggles claimed they saw real live demons, creatures of grotesque flesh. But, while the muggles fled in terror, Aurors from Franc have obtained information about a young man who, armed with a muggle firearm, and a strange sword, risking his life fighting them. He killed these monsters easily with just a gun and a sword. They said he had black hair and brown eyes. No one knows in the French Ministry if the young man was a wizard or not. Right now, they are assuming he's a muggle."
Dumbledore stared, silent as he and the others processed the information Kingsley shared.
"Were they magical in nature?"
"From what I learned, no... They seemed to disintegrate into smoldering ash after awhile when killed, including the blood they spill. Any attempt of finding this mysterious defender is met with no results. And I doubt You-Know-Who would want to do something like attack a muggle place, even in France. That would have the French Ministry of Magic coming down upon him with force. Maybe, if he somehow won this war I would see him being bold in attacking outside England... let's just hope You-Know-Who remains contained in England."
Dumbledore saw the logic in Kingsley's words. Yes, he knew Tom would get bold in attacking outside Europe if he won this war. That is not if they stopped Tom first, and defeat him once and for all, and bring peace to the Wizarding World, and the Muggle World. Everyone soon left once the meeting was adjourned, leaving Sirius and Remus alone, and a bag of stuff Dung tried to steal out of the house and failed to do so.
"So, what do you think Padfoot?"
"Well... personally I wish for Harry to be safe and be careful out there... but if he's caught by Death Eaters... Moony, I don't want to lose him."
Remus nodded. "I know, old friend."
"I wonder where he is right now..."
=0=0=
Right now, Harry was back at his hotel, under the name James Regulus Black. While he would simply be another teenager in the muggle world, one word of his family name and he'd be swarmed by Death Eaters or the Order wanting to protect him by smothering him with little to no contact with the outside world and he didn't want that. After the whole BS that happened at the Ministry, and the Wizarding World NOW finally knowing the truth that Voldemort is indeed alive once again...
He just knew that somehow, they'll expect him to do something about it because of that damn prophecy that killed his parents (and had nearly killed Sirius had he not used Carpe Retractum to save him just in time). Oh, he will, but not as their damn martyr half the Wizarding World will no doubt paint him as. First off, he needed to get the fuck out of the Dursley house and get away from his abusive relatives, and then find out more about his mother's family's hidden legacy of demon extermination and the true origins of the Evans mimetic legacy he inherited (along with a little something that was a great help with granting him more freedom in the muggle world; emancipation signed by his mother in a dire case of emergency).
Then, and only then, would he return when he's dealt with the demon infestation that's slowly crippling Europe and the United Kingdom. That, and make sure that Voldemort doesn't find out about the demons breaking out of hell, and using them to cause chaos and strife in both worlds. Voldemort controlling demons like puppets? Harry shuddered. That was something he wants to totally prevent...
With only the muggles who enjoy the night lifestyle still awake (Harry of course knew the Eiffel Tower may be closed down because of what happened today), Harry finally turned off the lights to his room, and soon he begins to sleep. The tint of the moonlight from his hotel window filtered through the silk curtains. His dreams were numerous, but one was more a replay. The day when he obtained his firearm named Cerberus, AKA Fluffy (formerly Hagrid's three-headed pet dog once guarding the third corridor room).
The next chapter will have the interluding flashback to Harry and Fluffy. Also, the song is entitled Future In My Hands by Aimee B. Of course, it's also heard in Episode Six: Rock Queen, from the Devil May Cry Animated Series, where in the anime, the song is called Mermaid Rock and is sung by a character named Elena Huston.