Title : Malignant Objects
Chapter : Factors
fac·tor n
1.something that contributes to or has an influence on the result of something
5.a person who or organization that buys and sells goods for a commission
6.somebody who or an organization that carries out business for another
Author : Charlie Blue
Disclaimer : What J.K Rowling created is hers, what various other pop-culture or historic arts + events may have inspired parts of this story also belong to their creators. Everything else is mine.
Warning : Yes, this story does contain slash. (gasp!) It also contains violence, amoral behaviour, harsh language, drug use and (stage-whispers) sex!
-------------
Location: The Order Of The Phoenix Headquarters
Nymphadora Tonks stood at the far end of a long, beautiful darkly polished mahogany table, directly facing Albus Dumbledore, who, seated at the head of the table, regarded her with serious, but bright blue eyes.
Around the table most of the seat were empty, and there were large gaps between those seated, as if each had a designated chair. There was Lily and James Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall,
In the centre of the table was a pensieve, its silvery contents swirling with unspoken memories.
The room was silent, posed … waiting. The only sound was the soft rush of water as it fell in a thin sheet over the far stone wall into a tranquil pool.
Finally, to Tonks' relief, he nodded gravely, and raised his wand, long sleeve sweeping the table as he murmured an incantation.
Tonks' barely watched as the scene unfolded from the silver folds of the pensieve - three dimensional and visible to all points of view. She had seen it, for it was her memory, and she was still in shock from it.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the ramifications of the memory rising in her mind, then she breathed deeply, and thought of what she'd seen that night she'd followed the long-lost and finally found twin to the Boy-Who-Lived.
--------------
The group did not stay together for very long, each talking of having separate business to attend to.
Tonks followed the boy she was now sure was Harry Potter, using her metamorphosis abilities to fade easily into the shadows of night.
He crossed a street corner and, abruptly, stopped, leaning against a flickering street light that let off a light pool of light in an otherwise dark street. Tilting his head down, so his dark hair fell across his face, he lit up a cigarette.
Not ten seconds later, five other figures walked out together from the shadows.
Tonks examined them.
Tall, dangerous men, fighters, of that she had no doubt. She guessed from their stance that they could, quite possibly, be assassins or mercenaries.
The one standing directly in front of Harry, flanked by the others, all unmoving from aggressive, cautious stances, held a briefcase out in front of him, the case crossing into the pool of light.
Harry's gloved hand languidly reached out and took it. Soft words were murmured, there was a quiet exchange of information Tonks could not make out, then Harry nodded curtly and turned on his heel, striding down the street.
The five men left in the opposite direction, the tension that had held each of them apparently dissipated as they strolled down a side street, chatting like old friends. Their dangerous manner had completely vanished.
They were now the kind of men Tonks' would have run to for help if someone was trying to rape her.
The memory followed Tonks as she hurried down the alleyway after Harry. They walked for a long time, she and Harry, the quarry and the follower, almost half an hour, and Tonks' mind was becoming fuzzy with lack of sleep and the meditation of mindless following, and so the image on the table was becoming fuzzier, more abstract.
Harry stopped, and turned down a shallow flight of stairs leading down to street level she hadn't seen.
She followed, and found herself in a kind of a covered courtyard. It was old and damp, but there was a table set up in the far end, where two men were waiting, seated on light metal chairs. As Tonks watched, she saw two other men, standing on opposite sides of the table, hands clasped behind their back, obviously guards of some sort.
One of them rose, a small smile on his face as he recognized Harry. He was a large man, clad in a dark, finely cut suit, wearing a tilted hat that shadowed his eyes. He spread his arms welcomingly.
'Ah, Tobias, it is good to see you again.' His voice was dark and raspy, strangely at odds with the friendly words he was speaking.
Harry, or Tobias, nodded, 'Nice hat.' He commented, voice light with wryness, and moved forwards, declining the seat offered him.
'I'm sorry Raoul, I have to make this quick.' He said lifting the briefcase and sliding it onto the table.
'Of course.' The man replied, teeth glinting, and made a quick gesture, and one of the other men bent down and lifted up a briefcase of their own, unflicking the catch and spinning it so that it opened facing Harry.
It was full of small packets of white powder.
Vaguely, Tonks became aware of growing discomfort in the room.
Harry nodded, and selected one of the packets at random, flicking it deftly before opening it and pouring two small amounts of the powder onto the table. Expertly, he drew a small card out of his pocket and formed two lines before looking expectantly at Raoul.
Raoul nodded, features carefully blank, and one of his men passed him a small straw. Without hesitation, the large man leant forwards and snorted the powder, then leant back abruptly, shaking his head vigorously once or twice, before tipping his hat back slightly and grinning at Harry.
'That's Grade A unicorn powder m'boy.' He rasped, amusement evident in his voice.
In the room, no one remained unstartled except for Tonks; she heard gasps and exclamations come from all the people seated at the table.
Harry nodded, his face unseen by Tonks, who was hiding behind him in the shadowed corner of the stairs, and accepted the straw, leaning forwards and snorting the second line.
This action, inevitable though it was, drew worse reactions from the people in the room, and clamour only grew as Harry opened his briefcase for a moment, showing it to the man, Raoul, its contents unseen by Tonks, before closing it with a sharp click, pushing it so it slid across the table, and closing the other briefcase, pulling it over to him.
'Nice doing business, Tobias.' Raul said, pulling out a cigarette and settling back into his chair as one of the bodyguards leant forwards, deftly lighting his boss's cigarette for him.
Tobias, already walking towards the stairs, briefcase swinging, reacted to the small snick of the lighter like a stormy sky to the first stroke of thunder.
Explosively.
He twisted, dropping the briefcase, coat flaring out behind him, arms crossing at the waist, arms snaking out with two guns like a feline attacked with claws outstretched.
Blam!
With that single gunshot, Tonk's vision snapped back into sharp, horrifying focus from the exhausted blurriness of before.
The vision played out.
Blam! Blam!
The other bodyguard, hand already drawing out a gun, crumpled, eyes wide, the silent man, seated next to Raoul, slumped forwards, blood pooling slowly at his slack mouth.
Raoul, eyes wide, had reacted quickly, speed belying his girth, and now, as Harry whipped his other arm around eyes level straight down his arm, burning into Raoul, Raoul found himself mirroring him, his own gun cocked and ready to fire.
But Harry never stopped moving.
His finger squeezed the trigger once as he strode forwards, Raoul's half-formed thought too complex to have such a fast reaction –
'Tobias, why Tobias, what the fuck! Is going to shoot me, oh fuck, shoot, SHOOT!'
As he fell back into his chair, eyes dimming, Raoul saw Tobias appear in his darkening vision. His mouth, drowning in coppery blood, tried to form words.
Tobias had no such trouble.
'Sorry, Raoul.' He said, voice dark, eyes blank.
In his last moments, Raoul felt a light weight lift from his head, and his last sight was of the graceful, beautiful young man striding away into darkness, coat flaring behind him, briefcase swinging, his own hat perched arrogantly on Tobias's head.
Tonks was frozen, and in her shock, her body had reverted to its original form, curled up in the corner, against the rough stone wall, she felt herself tremble at the look on Harry's face as he turned.
She would have sworn that he saw her, that those horribly blank eyes flicked towards her for the barest of moments, but he did not stop, simply swing around onto the stairs, running lightly up them.
Tonks pushed herself up a moment after he had gone, scrambling back up onto the street.
And there he was, a dark figure running down the moon-lit street, feet tapping lightly on the path, coat flapping in the wind, the hat of a dead friend defiantly fixed to his head.
-------
From the first moment Tobias had appeared in the memory, Lily had been entranced. That was him. She felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of certainty in her mind; this was her son.
Suddenly the only thing she could do was stare at the vision, tears pooling in her eyes but never falling.
She had not seen him since he was a bawling babe, and what she saw now was a young man.
Those regrets, dark denials that had been curled up in the back of her mind like a poisonous snake suddenly reared their heads, all those years, his childhood, had been without her, his mother!
She felt like screaming, crying out, but could not, transfixed as she had become to the vision that was her lost, her abandoned son. His every movement, every small gesture fascinated her.
James' hand found hers, and she wanted to look at him, but did not. His hand was tight, painfully tight, but she did not care, her hand was gripping his with the same, claw-like intensity.
She saw the familiar interaction he had with the man, Raoul, and, illogically, felt worms of jealously wring her stomach; this man knew her son and she did not!
Then Harry shot the man. Lily was so shocked she literally jumped, a small scream escaping her as her hands, releasing James', leapt to her mouth, green eyes dilating with complete and utter disbelief.
Not only the three others, but the man Harry had known!
The memory faded on the image of Harry running down the street, and before Lily had even regained hold of herself, James had pulled her across into his arms, and she curled up there, not sobbing, like she would have thought, just … shaking.
The room sat in silence, each person too shocked in their own way to talk, each needing time to think. Some thought of the consequences of having the Boy-Who-Lived's brother a killer, some were simply shocked by the boy they expected to be the twin of Adam Potter in every way, others … thinking of things of a different sort.
Finally, Albus stood, face grave. All attention turned to him, and Lily, in James' arms, sat up, and moved to her own seat, obviously shaken, but face showing none of it, eyes cold as she looked upon Albus.
'It appears,' Albus said softly, face grave, 'that we have found Harry Potter.'
He waved a hand, and a folder appeared in front of each person, and continued, 'there is the basic information gathered on the person who seems to run this underground organization, a …' He paused and cleared his throat quietly, 'apparently self-styled, 'Lady'. I believe that it is obvious we must retrieve Harry, and bring him back to Hogwarts.'
He sat and leant forwards, flicking open his file, 'Now, Tonks, have you any other observations to add?'
-------
Location: Malfoy Property
Draco Malfoy, wrapped grandly in a sumptuous silk throw, stood by the tall window, pouting as he watched the dark clouds scud across and slowly collide in the stormy sky.
The soft growl of strong wind echoed from outside, combined with the soft chiming of the mansion that indicated a fire call.
After a moment, Draco sullenly turned his head, watching as the glowing embers of the grand fireplace burst into flame. He huffed to himself, and spun, the throw trailing ground behind him as he stalked towards the fire.
The gold plate hanging above the fireplace glowed, before a name inscribed itself in flowing handwriting.
Draco looked at the name and smirked, pressing the stone to the left of the plate to indicate that the call would be accepted, before throwing himself onto the grand leather armchair, one leg hanging off the side, head tilted backwards off the armrest, his dark grey eyes looking directly into the fire.
A girl's head appeared, shaking itself delicately, before she focused on Draco.
'Draco,' She said, smiling in amusement, 'comfortable?'
'No!' He snapped, running a hand through his hanging hair, 'Do you know how bloody boring summer is when it isn't summering?'
The girl's smile widened into a grin, and she began to say something, but Draco cut her off, continuing, 'And it doesn't help when your friends abandon you to your grand, rich, utterly empty mansion and forget all about you!' He coughed, 'Pansy!'
The girl, Pansy, continued grinning, this was the Draco she'd become friends with over the past year, whereas before she'd simply been a fawning follower.
Dramatic, unashamedly spoilt and completely arrogant and self-centred, the reason Pansy, once she'd gotten to know the real him, actually liked him, was because he knew he was all these things, and so, while he didn't take his status for granted, he was damn well going to enjoy it. She loved that he wasn't in love with his own power.
'Well if you would be quiet for one moment…' She drawled, widening her eyes and looking up, giving the impression that she had crossed her arms and was tapping a foot.
Draco shut up.
When that failed to get a reaction, he sighed, and sat up, slouching into the chair.
'Yes, Pansy?' He asked, his voice the very embodiment of insincere apology.
Pansy immediately dropped the pose and leant forwards, or at least must have, as her head came further out of the fire, blonde, and coiffed hair bouncing slightly.
'You know those rumours that have been going around, about that underground organization in London?'
Draco frowned, sitting up, former sullenness forgotten in the face of a mystery that had been bandied about by some of the people in his circle for the past few weeks.
'That one Blaise's cousin said has ties to the Dark Lord?'
Pansy nodded emphatically, 'Yeah, well, turns out, some of Julia's muggle friends swear by some kind of a underground club that is completely secret and exclusive, but once inside, could very well be what we've heard about.'
Draco's eyes lit up, and he smirked devilishly, 'And you wouldn't happen to know where this is, would you?'
Pansy's smirk mirrored Draco's. 'I suppose me, Blaise and Julia will just happen to drop by later on today … You did mention that your parents were out of town, didn't you?'
------
Location: Unknown
In the dark, mist covered morning, her eyes opened for the first time in millennia. They were dark, streaked with purple and delirium, her mouth a pink rose-bud of defiance.
Her lips opened, and from them a scream of pure energy emanated, unheard but for the planes of immortality, resounding like a strangled heartbeat through space and dimension.
To her bed of silks and furs, climbed a young child. Androgynous in nature, his hair was soft and lightly curled, blonde as the morning sun that crept over the jagged horizon, face dark and innocent, soul unguarded by the knowledge of time.
The pyramid of stairs that he climbed tapering to a single point, a stage that soared to the fire-streaked sky. It was on that pinnacle, amidst falling droplets and slumbering creatures great and small, delicate butterflies, their intricate wings dancing on the wind, to magnificent lions, glorious manes nestled on folded paws, that her bed lay.
He carried a bowl of pure crystal, filled with water that sparkled like all the oceans trapped in a single vessel, uplifted before him like a sacrifice to a heathen altar.
Except that there was no sacrilege here, in this paradise of seedling creation.
He reached the platform, and, stepping lightly between the sleeping animal forms, reached the bed. His eyes, adoringly, looked upon the figure of the transfixed being. The bowl tipped, and the water spilled - not like water should, dripping and spilling - but in a thin sheet, like frozen ice, and it slid across her still form, anchoring it to this world.
Around her, animals awoke, and her scream became heard, her pupils contracted and a fell wind picked up around her bed.
The scream, painfully raw, cutting the edge of reality and insanity, died, but the wind did not, swirling dangerously around the still tableau. The boy, placid, set down the bowl, and stepped back, kneeling gracefully amidst silks and frantic birds.
And from the mouth from whence that terrible, unearthly sound had come, an impossibly soft, beautiful voice sprang.
Dark among the times of gods
Not one but many, the world shall spin
Its axis upon, and magic shall bear
The brunt of punishment for years entrapped
And beauty shall emerge, intact and glorious
In fury of scorn, grace of power
I who was promised eternal death for services past
Have spoken falsehood and so shall tell
Of pain and life for another cycle
Till freedom comes and love prevails
And corruption of faith, liberation of heart,
Come to justice, and the world shall change
And the god, in his tall heaven, became jealous, once more.
------
Location: London
Draco followed thee muggles, Julia's friends, down the steep incline. The corridor he was walking in was rusted and concrete, with pipes visible, running up and down the walls, graffiti scrawled over everything.
By now, the dark, incredibly strong bass was thumping through his chest, and he looked to his left, at Blaise and Pansy, who were practically leaping down the corridor in excitement, their movements wild, voices slurred and loud, already half drunk.
They had gone to the muggles' apartment, much to Draco's distaste, but he had endured it purely as a means to an end. Pansy and Blaise, and Julia of course, were not so inhibited, and fully helped themselves to the crude muggle alcohol. His mouth twitched in distaste.
There had been no trouble at the door, because, for starters, there was no queue, and the doormen seemed to recognize the muggles and let them pass through cheerfully with their strange friends, even, at the muggles' behest, and with grand descriptions of their personalities, had the young magicals added to some sort of a list.
Yes, Draco had refused to learn the muggles' names.
He looked around in interest, not at the surroundings, which were, admittedly, rather boring, but at the people moving around them, both up and down the corridor, talking, laughing, dancing their way towards wherever it was they were going.
Then they reached the end of the corridor, and Draco's eyes went wide momentarily, his lips parting in astonishment before a grin spread across his face. Faintly, behind the suddenly incredibly loud music, he heard Pansy making exclamations of delight. It was so wrong, so forbidden, so muggle, so, incredibly, alluring.
The enormous playground of nighttime pleasures pulsed with fantasy.
------
Location: The Lady's Domain
Fiona laughed as she half ran-half tottered down the corridor, hair flying behind her, high-heels clattering along the concrete path, eyes dancing and flaming, as she turned, smiling with reckless abandon at another girl, running behind her.
She saw a couple of the boys, coming out from a side corridor, and they saw her, and waved. She laughed, twirling in mid-air before landing, almost rolling an ankle, and over-correcting, falling backwards onto the wall as they walked out in front of her.
'Come on!' She exclaimed, pushing herself off the wall and grabbing one of the boys' hands and pulling him with her, past a group of teenagers, eyes momentarily caught by the white-blonde hair of one of the boys standing just inside the club. She turned, grinning, 'Alannah's stripping with Tobias!'
The boy grinned, and moved quicker, 'the ice-princess? Tobias? What are we waiting for?' His companion, catching up, slurred a question.
The boy grinned a lop-sided, charming grin, eyes dancing with amusement, 'Those kids are so fucking exclusive, you're gonna see one of them stripping down here … like … never!'
He grinned, and disappeared into the throbbing crowd, heading towards the huge, central bar.
-------
Tobias revelled.
Down to his leather pants and not much else, he strutted along the huge, panelled bar, flinging his shirt away.
The crowd, lead by the inhabitants of the Lady's world, who abso-fucking-lutely loved him, roared.
Tobias laughed; arms spread wide, head flung back, hair falling across his face.
Alannah, across the other side of the large, circular bar, was already down to black lingerie and stilettos, slinked across the marble surface, neck arched proudly, hips strong, mesmerizing.
Both of them, high on the illustrious, much sought-after Unicorn powder, had dared each other to come down here, like one of the common whores, and, as Alannah had said in her gorgeous, sultry drawl. 'Make the fuckers beg.'
They held most people in contempt, Alannah and Tobias, dangerously more so when intoxicated.
------
Location: Hogwarts, the same night.
Albus, dressed respectably in a well-cut, navy blue suit, his long beard apparently magically shortened to a nice, close-trimmed one, a silver-headed wooden cane in one hand, peered over his half-moon glasses at Lily and James.
They were pale, fidgety with nervousness, but calm, dressed in simple muggle clothing, Lily in a cream cashmere sweater, with black jeans, and James in a casual dark green shirt and black slacks.
He had talked to them, long and hard about everything. What they had done, why, what to expect, how to understand how their son would react, and how to find him, infiltrate the Lady's domain.
The Order had come to the decision that Albus, Lily and James would go tonight, to try to at least contact, or at least see Harry, before taking more drastic measures.
Albus nodded at the couple, before holding out a small object, an old-fashioned smoking pipe, which they both reached out to simultaneously, their faces a mixture of hope and apprehension.
He spoke a word, and the portkey was activated.
---------------
A/N Important
I really need feedback. Not only for the story's sake, but I need to know how many people actually want me to continue this story enough to write even just a one or two word review. If you read, add to your favourites, to your alerts, to your C2, please review!
A longer review, with constructive criticism, creative ideas and advise are incredibly, incredibly appreciated, but if you do not have time/ can't be bothered, please just make a simple review. Thank you very much.
Regarding Slash: People have mentioned worries about slash. This story will not be simple a het or slash fic, there will be both.
P.S I know I said there would be action! But I wrote and wrote, and waited and waited for the Conflict Muse, and she, quite simply, did. Not. Come! Quite obviously, confrontation will be in the next chapter, which will be v. good, brilliant in fact, and quite … unpredictable. (This is of course, the arrogant artiste in me speaking before the actual writing begins … Hey, I need motivation, right?)