A/N:

Thanks to Riku Stark, PenMagic, LevictusWilkes, DarkDramaLady, RangerManaInSnuggieWar, and Shinen no Hikari for commenting!

As for you, Lilly, I'll add in your character as a new student, but whether she becomes a major character from there is yet to be seen.

On with the story.


Chapter 2

Mutant

Aberforth Dumbledore had lived a long hard life. In his youth, he had been forced to take care of his precious sister, who, weak, could barely fend for herself, while his brother, the 'great' Albus Dumbledore, ran around with his secret gay lover that Aberforth pretended not to know about.

Then, due to Albus and his eccentricities, his sister had died in a three way duel. Three way duel, because Albus, instead of only defending his own kin, also attempted to defend his pseudo-boyfriend that was obviously manipulating him fifteen different ways.

Aberforth was certain it had been Grindelwald to kill his sister. Of the three, he was the only one shooting lethal curses. Albus cast defensive spells and, while Aberforth used aggressive spells, none of his would have actually killed on impact.

The curse that hit Ariana killed on impact.

Of course, Albus himself would never admit to that. After all, how could he? How could he admit that a man he had brought into his home, a man he had trusted, a man he had chosen over his own family had murdered his own little sister?

Of course, Aberforth personally didn't give a shit about his older brother's hardships. Ariana was dead and, as far as he was concerned, Albus might as well have killed her himself.

He sighed slightly as he wiped down the bar with the old rag he kept in the back. The Hog's Head was absolutely filthy. He could mutter a few cleaning spells here and there, but at his old age, he couldn't be bothered.

He'd inherited the Hog's Head from his late wife, Freya. Gods, how he missed her and the way she sang and the way she smiled and the way her eyes would shine with glee and the way she would sing to the birds.

There's was a love that had expanded for the better part of five decades. Forty years later, and he still loved her as much as he did the day he lost her in the waning days of the first war against Voldemort, at the Dark Lord's hands himself.

Funny. Her brother had tried to kill Aberforth. Repeatedly. Once, in a small abandoned town in Germany, the two had dueled nearly to the death as rain swept them. Aberforth had lost that particular battle against his bride's much younger sibling.

Aberforth's head snapped up as he heard something shatter. A window, most likely. He might be old, but, like his brother, even in old age he was not a wizard to be trifled with. Aberforth Dumbledore might not have the utter raw power and finesse his older brother had wielded, but he was still one of the few beings that could say they dueled two separate Dark Lords (Grindelwald and Voldemort) and survived.

His hand reached for his wand as he began to wander around the Hog's Head, looking for the intruder.

With a wordless flick, the lights came alive. Aberforth looked about, before his eyes latched onto the back door. The window had a fist-sized hole in it, and was obviously open.

Aberforth narrowed his eyes and spun full circle, looking for the intruder. Who would dare barge into the home of the last living Dumbledore? Aberforth had dueled with the best and come out on top. He had once single-handedly bested Mad-Eye Moody in a one on one duel, killed more Death Eaters than he could count in the first war against Voldemort, and had fought on the battlefields of both World Wars.

There was a quick shatter followed by a hiss. Aberforth turned towards the noise as a faint fog filled the air. Suspicious, Aberforth waved his wand at it, causing the vapor to dissipate all around the Hog's Head, leaving only a small blue bulb that it had been housed in behind.

How... Odd, Aberforth thou-

With a force he had only felt once before, Aberforth was flung backwards as his wand was ripped from his grip. He gave out a loud uff as his back slammed against a wall, hard. A figure stepped out of the shadows, hood drawn up, hand extended outwards.

The hell?...

Aberforth could not breath as he felt the blood in his veins curl. He tried to give out a rasp, anything to get air into his lungs, but it was futile.

Chains are one thing. At least with chains, you still have some mobility. You can control your own flesh. You can move your own body, even if it's just a finger, a toe, even your eyes.

He couldn't even move those.

And, it was terrifying. Fear pounded in his veins. This was it.

He was going to die.

He was going to die, here, now, and he couldn't even scream. Hell, he couldn't blink.

Then, the door burst open and Aberforth dropped like a stone as the assassin turned.

"Stupefy!" several stunning spells shot out towards the assassin, bright red and crimson streaking across the room.

Whoever the hooded figure was, however, was quick, agile, and able to dodge such blasts with practiced ease as the Aurors, led by Harry Potter himself, stormed the place. There was the quick sound of apporation as the Aurors surrounded the hooded figure.

"Don't take one more step." Potter, his wand trained on the assassin, commanded. The Inferous Killer, dubbed so by the media due to the belief that he was one of the prisoners Hermione had released the previous year from Fortress Inferous, Azkaban, and Nurmengard.

Since then, there had been numerous murders, not just across the British Isles, but across all of Europe as well. And, finally, they caught a break.

Even if it came at the expense of a thirteen year old girl's mental sanity. Whatever power Rose Weasley had to see into the future would likely be more a curse than anything else.

The Inferous Killer tilted his head to side as he examined each of them, evaluating his chances.

"Drop your wand. Now!" one of the Aurors commanded.

The ghost of a smile underneath the hood told Aberforth to be weary of this man. Already, he knew it was no witch or wizard by their standards. The possibilities were whirling in his head.

Wiccan witches had powerful wandless magic, albeit wands were useless to them and they couldn't do as many tricks as Wizarding witches.

There were other beings with powers like that as well.

Demon? No, not a demon, Aberforth thought, as he sniffed. Smell was off. So what the hell was it?

A psychic? No... Rarely did they get this powerful. Whatever this entity was, it was something else entirely.

The Inferous Killer smiled as he lifted his hands, displaying his clearly empty palms. Instantly, the Aurors relaxed. All of them, except Potter, whom Aberforth noted did not drop his guard for a second.

It seemed the boy did learn after all, Aberforth decided.

Then, the Inferous Killer dropped to the ground as he waved his hands around, flinging most of the Aurors back. Most. Potter managed to drop to the ground before the telekinetic blast could strike, before rising and firing a curse of his own.

The Inferous Killer dodged about, dodging attacks as the rest of the Aurors rose and fired as well.

Quick as Mercury himself, the Inferous Killer wove among the Aurors, striking out of them with the palms of his hands, hitting key pressure points, causing a few to collapse on impact, snapping a neck before reaching the keg.

One strong kick later and butterbear was everywhere, splashing all about. Even Potter was knocked on his ass by that one. Aberforth, finally regaining control of his limbs, growled as he reached for his wand and, with a quick spell, cleaned up the mess that would surely cost him. Genuine butterbear wasn't exactly cheap, after all.

When it all cleared, the Inferous Killer was gone.


When Harry had received Hermione's call in the middle of the night, he'd been groggy, sleepy, and wanted nothing more than to rest. Then, as she explained the situation, all tiredness left him as he snapped out of bed and rushed to put together a team.

Harry had left immediately, making his way to the Hog's Head, praying they would not be too late, telling his fellow Aurors that he had received an anonymous tip on the next actions of the notorious Inferous Killer.

He couldn't very well tell them that his recently turned thirteen year old niece had spontaneously developed precognitive powers and had painted her walls in a vivid myriad of colors depicting the murder of Aberforth Dumbledore.

They arrived just on time, finding Aberforth pinned to the wall and the Inferous Killer about to finish the notorious deed.

The telekinesis was not something Harry had personally expected, but, having faced beings with those kinds of wandless powers before he, unlike his fellow Aurors, was far more prepared.

Of course, his Aurors knew beings like that existed. They simply hadn't faced any like Harry had over the years.

Three men had died in that assault. Three good men Harry had fought alongside for years were dead. He sighed slightly as he examined the scene. Butterbear was everywhere, there were three dead bodies, and the media would be open them like moths to a flame before the night was out, then Harry would have to answer awkward questions.

He couldn't very well tell the public that the Inferous Killer had tremendous control over wandless magic. If he did, either he'd end up with an international scare, or blatant disbelief. He wasn't sure which one would be better, to be honest.

"Sir." a voice called.

Harry turned, meeting the face of Dennis Creevey. After his brother's death during the second War against Voldemort, Creevey had sworn that he'd dedicate the rest of his life to fighting against the evils that took his brother from him, and he had fulfilled that promise, fighting back to the very death and becoming one of the best Aurors Harry had on his payroll.

"Yes?"

"I think you should take a look at this." Creevey motioned Harry over.

Harry followed as they made their way towards the Mediwitch examining the three dead bodies.

"I've never seen anything like this." Madam Zeller told Harry as she motioned the the blank transparent glow above the bodies.

Harry blinked. What was he suppose to be seeing?

"I fail to see-" Harry began.

"There is no magical signature on these bodies." Madam Zeller spoke.

Harry blinked again before his eyes locked on the bodies. Kneeling, he narrowed his eyes before looking back up to Madam Zeller.

"Can you run a diagnostic tests looking for distinct traces of radiation?" he asked.

"Radiation? Whatever for! They were obviously killed by magical-" Madam Zeller began.

"Just do it. Trust me." Harry spoke as he rose to full height, his eyes a lit with a strange glint. Zeller looked skeptical, but nodded and did as told.

Creevey gave Harry a look.

"Hunch?" he asked casually.

"I really hope not." was the only response he got, which made Creevey stare up at him in confusion, curiosity, and slight suspicion. Harry's Aurors trusted him on a fundamental level. But, all of them knew the famous Harry Potter was as secretive as the late Albus Dumbledore had been in life.

"I don't believe this!" Madam Zeller gasped, causing two pair of eyes to snap towards her.

The glow had gone from transparent to a shining shimmering blue.

Madam Zeller was shaking her head. Magic, she knew, gave off an electromagnetic pulse. It was the reason electronic Muggle devices did not work in magic-rich communities. Magic did not give off radioactive isotopes unless under extreme quantities, and even then, it did not give off this much radiation.

Creevey's eyes snapped up to Harry, who's gone pale as bone.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

Harry blinked up, before meeting his gaze.

"It means... It means our killer isn't magical." Harry answered.

"How on earth could that be possible considering all of this?" Madam Zeller motioned to the carnage around them.

"Because, we don't have a magical killer on our hands. This killer gives of radiation no magical being can emit. It's not something magical, or supernatural. We're dealing with a damn mutant."

Of course, Harry had no way of knowing that, crouched in the shadows with her pen poised and a notepad out, and scribbling furiously, was Mafalda Richardson, ready to already plotting to release the information to the world.