Disclaimer: This is a fan written work based on the works of J.K. Rowling. It might possibly also have some elements of a number of other works. There is no money being made from this, it is merely a work meant for the entertainment of myself and the masses. This is merely for fun, and no profit. I repeat: I am not making any money out of writing this.
Warning: OCs OOCs Sues, and some crack. You have been warned.
Note 1: AU.
Note 2: AK was written with boredom as a motivation, in this holds the inspiration writing AK.
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Crucio
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chapter three
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"You have the list," Harry stated.
"Yes," Charity said, this time she brought the Trio and Tristan.
"You seem a bit tense," Tristan said, finally clueing in on Harry's moods, and expressions.
"There is a fraud in the alley, the new Defense professor I believe," Harry stated, "Silence him until the first of September Tristan."
"Not a day early, not a day late, my lord," Tristan replied, and stalked off in search of the fraud, his nose for such things would not and could not afford to fail him.
"Get my books as well," Harry said at the last moment, to which Tristan simply nodded and waved his hand as walked over to the bookstore.
"What of the rest of us?" Charity asked.
"Fetch my other supplies," Harry said, "Trio, find me more puppets, I need blank slates for my new experiements, preferrably less than human."
"By your word my lord," they said, and stalked off towards Knockturn Alley.
Harry on the other hand headed for the bank, while the others had enough gold to purchase his supplies, his own personal stash had run out, as the left overs of the last trip would be used for this trip.
As he approached the bank, the goblin guards upon seeing his approach quickly entered the bank, looking as if they were running away from something, which they were. Harry's invisible aura had changed, from one purely of death, to one that had pain and suffering mixed into it.
He walked in not stopping, and appraoched a teller..
"I would like to make a withdrawal," he told the goblin teller.
"Right away my lord," the goblin said, and called over another goblin to take Harry down to his vaults.
The goblins had forwarded to Charity all the information they had gathered pertaining to Harry's heritages, all information about his inherited estates, which was partially why he could legitimately be called a Lord.
"Forward the information on the breach of my parents' wills to the courts, but have it backlogged, until I say otherwise," Harry said to the teller before he followed the other goblin to the carts.
The ride down to the vaults was a rather faced paced one, one where hide nor hair of the guardian dragons was seen or heard. They knew that something far more frightening than they had entered these hallowed halls.
When they had finally arrived at his trust vault, he had chosen to keep it open as it was closer to the surface, Harry produced a small pouch charmed to have a nearly infinite amount of space inside. He then gathered up as much knuts as he had in the vault, then left.
As he left the bank he whispered..
"I have the blood red stone flowing in my veins.."
After leaving the bank he headed straight for the bookshop to see if Tristan was still there, even though there was a crowd, he really didn't care much, he entered within. He spied a man at the front of the crowd as well as Tristan, who looked visibly shaken by the man that had apparently pulled him out of the crowd as a publicity stunt of sorts. Harry grew irritated, and Tristan upon seeing his lord, knew this and smiled a weak smile.
"Oh, if it isn't Harry Potter," the man that had grabbed Tristan out of the crowd said jovially, "Why don't you come here Harry!"
"I'd rather not," Harry said, thinking about how the man had countered Tristan before he could strike.
"Sorry my lord," Tristan whispered as he passed Harry to rejoin the crowd.
'Gather the books then launch an investigation, proof is needed in this case, and death will do nothing but scratch his image,' Harry mentally commanded Tristan through the mental link, 'I want his named dragged through the mud, and his existence sent to the eighth circle.'
'Understood, my master,' Tristan thought back, and proceeded to go about his assigned duties, by the end of the year Gilderoy Lockhart would be a name that would be spat on, and an image used as an example for a person on the wrong side of the rulers of the world. Even his pictures and books would be nothing more than common rags, unfit even to be balled up and thrown in the bin, but to be incinerated on the spot, as they were blights on the world.
"What do you want?" Harry asked in his normally deadpan voice.
"Ah...ahah..I just wanted to personally present you with my entire collection of books for free, they're your text books this year since I'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Lockhart said, "You heard it right my fellow witches and wizards, for this year I will be teaching the next generation how to better defend themselves from the dark!"
"So...why should I care, I don't need your charity," Harry said, "I can buy my own books."
"Hey kid just accept them already! He's Gilderoy Lockhart!" a member of the crowd said, forgetting who he was speaking to, which caused Harry to zoom in on him, invade his mind, and place a bullseye on his back.
"I'd rather be taught by Lord Voldemort than with this smiling loser," Harry said as he dropped the pile of books into the cauldron of some random red head, "You can have them, they're free and signed by that buffon."
He then left the shop, Tristan following him, having purchased the necessary books, including the Lockhart ones.
"He will experince all manners of the eighth circle, my master," Tristan said as he followed Harry to the rest of the places where the other subordinates would be found.