Witch Hunter

by CrimsonNoble

Summary: People cope with grief in different ways. Harry Potter doesn't cope well. But when he's caught in a magical backlash of immense power, he's banished from all he knows and finds that, sometimes, not everyone is guilty of the sins of a few. Post Hogwarts.

Spoilers: All books until HBP.

Rating: R for violence, mature sexual themes, deviant sexuality, harsh language, etc.

Pairings: HP/FD, HP/LE, HP/H

Chapter 10:

The Executioner sidled through the forest. It was dark, as forests were wont to be. The darkness mostly hid him, however much it could.

He heard The Lady, mocking him as she always had. Given, he couldn't sneak up on much. Given, he didn't particularly care to. Given, he didn't need to.

Not that The Lady was particularly subtle. Her eyes stood out. She liked it that way. Perhaps too much. And she was prone to leaving survivors. She claimed it helped terrify the hunted. He wasn't entirely sure that was a great idea, but The Lady's choice was The Lady's choice.

She peered around a tree, meters ahead of him. Her hands danced.

The Executioner could not read the signals at the distance. The Lady was probably indicating guards, locations, and net population. He didn't really concern himself with the numbers. Instead, he checked to ensure his revolver was loaded, having already replaced the single empty casing, and then to insure that he had his reloads conveniently at hand. Then he drew his blade.

The Lady entered the clearing before him. She took down the first two guards before they could sound an alarm. However, in her fashion, she had naturally made enough noise herself to wake the entire camp. She kept moving, carelessly. A variety of spells streaked past her, testament to the accuracy of the wizards.

The Executioner walked in just as slowly as he always had. Being that the camp was distracted by The Lady, who had reached the other side and was busy slaughtering her way back through, the first eight wizards fell without warning the others. The ninth cried a warning before he too died.

He didn't bother to try and avoid the Killing Curse from the next would-be victim. It crashed against his armor, lifting him from the earth and flinging him in a graceless arc, to be terminated by a well-placed tree. He lay very, very still.

Then he rolled over. He coughed, splattering blood on the forest ground. Where it landed, the vegetation promptly burst into flame.

The Executioner stood up. With slow, deliberate movements, he drew his revolver and took aim on the wizard that had cursed him. The man never knew what ended him.

The wizards appeared to come to an agreement that their losses were mounting too great, and to remain was futile. The cracks of apparition echoed through the forest.

"That was a waste," The Lady said.

"Cultivating fear isn't a waste."

-----

"You are correct, Miss Evans. Male Veela do not exist."

Professor Flitwick reclined in his chair, the pile of books bringing him up to the level of the table. He amused himself by levitating a pair of ink bottles and having them dance around his person.

"Professor, that makes no sense. If male Veela do not exist, how are pure blood Veela born?"

Flitwick looked at her. He settled the bottles on the desk, and leaned forward. "Now why would a young lady be interested in that?"

Lily glanced at the ceiling for an instant, and then focused on her head of house. "For the sake of knowledge."

"Do me the respect of not lying, Miss Evans."

She didn't have the shame to blush. "James Potter is in the Hospital wing. The Madame is apparently unable to heal him."

"Ahhh." Flitwick jumped to the floor and circumnavigated the desk. "Common sense would dictate that Veela do not reproduce pureblooded, would it not? Of course, this is not true. Now and again we see the birth of pureblood Veela.

"The Ministry has deemed their reproduction illegal and dark. Nevertheless, the Ministry still utilizes the rite as an ultimate punishment. Tell me, Miss Evans, why are things termed dark arts?"

That was elementary. "Because they strip the victim of choice or cause undue harm, and there is no benign way of using them."

"More or less. In the case of Veela reproduction, it would be the first reason you gave. It strips the victim of choice." Flitwick entered full lecture mode, wand waving and things flying included. "The victim is chosen to give the Veela a child. In the process, they become the protector of the Veela. Toward that end, they are given certain… gifts, would be the term, I suppose.

"You are aware, of course, of the existence of Elementals?"

"Yes. Beings with some small amount of control over a substance."

Flitwick nodded. "That is what common knowledge dictates, yes. Of course, it is false. That is for another day, however. The Veela's protector is appointed an element, with which to protect their master."

"What if the victim does not want to protect the Veela?"

"That is why it is classified as the dark arts. The victim cannot not want to protect their master. The original personality is replaced by the need to protect their master unto death."

-----

Exe walked out of the forest.

It was a familiar path up to the school. His hovel was only off it by a few meters, front door shut and locked, though not magically, never magically. Of course, that left it open for student interference. Not that he would miss the tampering, a magically locked door was never locked the same as a non-magic door.

The Lady had elected to remain in the forest. He decided not to ask after her intentions in there. The concentration of magical beasts was far too high for her to have any other reason.

"Nothing," he repeated, "Unnatural."

Wrong, something in his head told him. He pretended he wasn't listening to it and knowing it was true.

Faux-Zen control crushed the false thought out. He was not against that which was unnatural because it was so. He turned his mind to the truth and forced his mind to stare. He was against it because…

The burning hatred nearly tore away the lock on his power. The lock survived. It crushed the power deeper.

Something inside wrenched.

He kept walking.

He entered the school. Proceeded to the Headmaster's office. Ignored the gargoyle.

And he waited.

The Headmaster entered and seated himself behind his desk before acknowledging Exe.

"Ser Kinzoku. Your two weeks are completed, and you have returned. Quite punctual."

Exe tried to say something. Instead, he unleashed a sound that nearly rent his mind in twain. It was nails on a chalkboard, crushing ice, scraping Styrofoam, all in one package. He could only logically describe it as rust, corrosive to the very mind.

He stopped trying to talk.

"That was enlightening," Albus Dumbledore said.

Exe nodded slowly, busy listening to something in his past.

…in its corruption…

It was entirely unexpected. Damn Judge.

He stood in the only way he could. He left, to return to his post.

As he walked past the open door to the Great Hall, the commotion within attracted his attention.

He gazed down at a copy of the Daily Prophet. The headline spoke of an attack on an Auror training camp.

The Executioner felt the warm, squishy feeling of success well up inside him.

He moved to a corner and seated himself.

And he watched.

-----

Lily cornered Jane in the library. The girl was reading the Daily Prophet with no small amount of interest.

"What do you think?"

"Lily." Jane acknowledged. "Clearly not the work of Voldemort. No dark mark in the sky, survivors who apparated out long after the attack began, all bodies mutilated through nonmagical means, and a fire to cover the job."

"Yes," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "But what do you think?"

"I think many people are going to die."

And that wasn't morbid at all. "You should talk to Exe. You two would make a fine pair." And you might even relax a little.

"Exe?"

And it was rather odd how many people didn't seem to be aware of his presence. "Yes. The one who put Potter in the hospital wing. He sits in the entrance hall. Rooms out on the grounds that aren't really protected?"

Jane frowned slightly. "Show me."

Lily gestured for the girl to follow and left. It would be so funny if the two ended up in bed together. She wasn't quite sure why the idea annoyed her.

"That guy," she pointed at the man in the duster. "Go. Talk to him." And Lily stepped backward behind one of the statues to watch.

Jane walked forward with an unnatural grace Lily had never seen in her before.

She stood in front of Exe without saying anything for a long while. Then she began to talk. And she continued to talk. Exe tilted his head back to look at her face. Lily moved closer, trying to hear what was going on between them, but stopped just out of reach as Exe's eyes focused on her. Jane turned and motioned her closer.

Lily leaned against the wall casually, as though she was merely waiting for someone. After a moment Jane turned back to Exe and continued to talk.

Exe's hands started to twitch, and Jane watched. Exe looked back at the girl as her hands started to move too. It was almost like they were talking to each other with their hands. But that, of course, was impossible. Even Aurors did not have actual communication in their hand speech. She got thoroughly bored in short order.

Jane clapped twice. It was the most enthusiastic display Lily had ever seen from the girl.

And then she left.

Lily caught up to her as she headed for the dormitories. "What was that all about?"

Jane grinned. It was extremely unsettling. "He's going to introduce me to some… people."

-----

Amusement tinged Exe's thoughts. Yes, that would be the classic Judge. He could not have pictured her as a student.

It was apparent that she never had been a student.

A/N: Infodumped. So now you know.