AN- another month, another chapter, the plot bunnies have truly messed me up more than wrackspurts and I regret nothing. The edge in this one might be a bit much for some people but bear with me and the plot.
A big thanks to HonorverseFan and WaskeHD for the Beta
Anyways, on wih it...
Fleur Delacour was not having the time of her life in any way, in fact, she was regretting coming this far north of Europe.
The portkey ride had been embarrassing enough as she had fallen on her butt as soon as they had landed and the peals of laughter of her best friend didn't exactly help her mood either.
"Shut up, Capucine!" She grumbled as Diluq helped her to her feet, chuckling softly.
"Well, you have to admit it, soeur, it was a little amusing," Diluq replied with a small smile, Fleur huffed and finally got a good look around them, apparently they had landed straight the Big Hall of the Great Oslo.
This was just the beginning of what fate had planned for her, things were about to get much worse.
Capucine gave Diluq a quick kiss on his left cheek as he held his arm open for her to loop hers in, both had adorable small blushes on their faces, Fleur had been working hard getting them both together since her third year, both of them had vehemently denied their feelings for each other at first, a little too vehemently even, and that was what had given her the clue to not back off on their case.
She was a great matchmaker and yes, she was the only one to think so, but then again, the opinion of others didn't matter to her much anyways.
All of them walked near the Norwegian guards, they were two burly looking hit wizards checking passes and giving out masks. Perfect.
She wasn't going to put on her duelling mask, her identity was precious, especially here, tonight.
Diluq showed the guards their pass and grabbed two masks for Capucine and herself. She tried the mask on, made of silk and plastic, it wasn't exactly the best of the lot but she guessed it'd have to do.
They walked inside past the hordes of students milling around the entrance. The decorations inside were amazing, the chandeliers leaving the students in awe at their lustrous glow, the silk curtains weaved in and around the ceiling and walls while the dancers bathed in its wonder. She had been to quite a few ministry balls herself before but the amount of formality and the welcoming feeling this place was able to pull off at the same time was astounding.
She moved in side by side with her brother and her best friend, moving onto the dance floor as Capucine pulled her brother behind her and…
They both disappeared in the crowd.
On second thought, Fleur should've thought of arranging a date before coming to the ball.
Sometimes just winging the thing didn't work. She really wanted to be angry with Diluq at that moment but he had a perfectly good excuse.
She didn't want to be the third wheel anymore anyways.
She moved inside and did what any teenager without a date at any party did, starting to drag her feet towards the bar, apparently it looked really silly roaming around without any destination in mind. Others seemed to have the same idea as her, seeing as a group had begun to orbit around the beverages, likely waiting on a chance at being asked to dance.
"Can I have the dance Milady?" asked a soft voice from behind her, A Durmstrang student from the sounds of it, she deduced from the accent.
She turned around and saw a man with a boyish face wearing a distinctive red suit which contrasted horrendously with the décor, not to mention his own orange trousers too. Had it been any other place or time, she would've died of embarrassment but he had a hopeful look in his eyes and it wasn't like she had a knight in shining armour or a prince waiting for her either. She supposed she could fake a level of enjoyment as they danced.
"Alright then. Monsieur …?" She moved a little closer to him and asked with a questioning look and a smile.
"Prince."
Oh, so she did in fact have a Prince waiting for her right now. It would've been hilarious if she hadn't been part of the joke.
And so began Fleur Delacour's first and most awkward dance of the evening, she could only hope that it improved from here on…
Only God knew how right she was.
DW
It was a beautiful afternoon in San Nicola, Carcere, Italy when a young man walked into the church with a sense of purpose. He didn't inherently believe in God, for him it was just a place to wash away his sins that he knew he had committed or was going to commit. His eyes roved around the hall searching for the confession booth. A few people sat near the door peacefully with their eyes closed, by the end of the statue of Jesus right in the centre, on its left was his destination.
He moved inside the confession booth, a small ray of sunlight penetrated from a hole left unrepaired, on the other side of the room blocked by a sieved wall sat the church's father himself.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," he spoke in an Italian accent and a neutral voice as he took the rugged chair inside the room.
"It's been, uh... It's been too long since my last confession," he continued, "My dad, he used to come to this church back when I was a kid." His voice turned a little fond at the end of the admission but otherwise betraying no emotion.
"He was a Duelist. Old school. Big leagues. Lost more than he won. Had a 24-31 record before he, uh..." the Italian faltered at the end but again continued.
"But he could take a spell. Jesus, he could take a spell."
"Language," The priest scolded and spoke for the first time in their limited interaction.
"Sorry, Father. Yeah, as I was saying, guys he went up against used to say it was like hitting oak. And nights when he was outmatched, my dad's strategy was to let 'em hex him till they broke their wands." He flicked his wrist so as to watch the time, the silver watch shone depicting it almost to be near quarter to six.
"He never got knocked out, my dad. Knocked down, sure. But he, uh, always got back up, was always on his feet when he lost." Resolve was etched on the Italian's face now.
"Every now and then, though, uh... Every now and then, he'd get hexed and... something inside of him would snap." His voice was getting softer by the word now
"My grandmother, she was a real Catholic, Fear of God ran deep. You'd have liked her." He chuckled a little before continuing.
"She used to say, 'Be careful of the Zabini boys. They got the devil in 'em.' And you'd see it sometimes..." His eyes got a faraway look as he felt another presence now sitting beside him, nobody could see or feel the presence of that third person except him, it was relaxing sometimes.
"In the duelling arena. His eyes would go dead...and he'd start walking forward, real slow, wand at his side like he wasn't afraid of anything. And the other guy, he'd see that look, and he'd try to get away from him." A smirk could almost be heard in his voice at the end of that sentence.
"Nah".
"My dad, he'd catch him and... trap him in the corner. Let the devil out."
Maniacal laughter erupted from beside him, the third person, the creature was enjoying this conversation too it seems, him being in the church was ironic enough.
"Yeah. Now, I didn't understand it, you know? What he was feeling deep inside, I didn't understand it. Not back then."
"But you understand it now?" Asked the priest, speaking for the second time that evening, seeming almost frustrated by the story.
"Perhaps this would be easier if you told me what you've done." Continued the priest as he tried to dig up something.
"I'm not seeking penance for what I've done, Father."
"I'm asking forgiveness… for what I'm about to do." His Italian accent thickened at the end as he finished and got up. The creature was laughing madly, clutching his sides.
"That's not how this works and what exactly are you going to do?" the priest too got up frantically, wondering what was up.
The young man got up not paying any heed to the priest's questions, reached the door handle but just as he was about to exit, in a last ditch attempt the priest pushed his luck.
"At least tell me your name?!" He got out in a wheeze, though not conventional, he would have something to report to the police.
The young Italian paused "My name? Names have powers, Father, you of all people should know that, even so, if you are so curious and you have done me a service today." He paused for a second.
"They call me Zabini." His voice exasperated and a little amused, a red glint in his eye which became suddenly visible.
"Vrases Zabini"
With that he left with his laughing friend, leaving behind a shocked and pale Father.
DW
"Tell me Djall, what is it that you still find so amusing?" asked Vrases as he walked with his companion in the streets of Rome, the road narrowed downhill as they both walked into the evening.
Djall, still smiling replied "The human world is a boring place with boring people doing boring things, but you Luca…"
"Vrases" he corrected tersely.
Once again Djall had a hearty laugh, more sadistically this time around, he slung one of his abnormally long limbs around Vrases's shoulder.
"You can call yourself whatever you want, wizard, it just makes the whole ordeal all the more amusing for me, you going into the church with me, the archon of evil, and outing yourself as Vrases. This is some fine entertainment I've not had in centuries."
Vrases didn't reply, he kept moving forward shrugging off Djall's feathery and bony arm off his shoulder.
Still smiling Djall changed the topic, "So the queen is out, what about the king, rook and knight?"
"Everything has it's time Djall, I am just trying to provide Good justice with wrongful measures, I have an assassination planned before our little trip to Albania," spoke Vrases mysteriously as they neared the once tall and proud Zabini mansion but now just reduced to a landmark, just a place to tell directions from.
"So, we will pick up the rat and the ugly baby tonight?" the creature pestered him again, not backing off.
"Yes. Enough about that, now Djall I believe it is time for me to show my lovely mother some mercy."
A sinister smile broke on Vrases's face, one not of joy or happiness but of pleasure, pleasure of revenge.
DW
The click clacks of Vrases's boots echoed around the den leading to the Zabini dungeon, he was in a really good mood, for today he was going to leave Italy for good. All the pain, torture, sadness and insanity left behind and onwards to make the world a better place.
With whatever means necessary.
This was the one thing that had bothered him for a long time, was what he was doing right? He had questioned himself that for the past year for the time he had tortured his mother for killing his father. In the end, of course, his rational mind won and came up with a philosophy,
'In this world, there is only good and evil, that is the first universal truth grasped from observing the world around. Every human being without exception ends up falling into one category or the other.'
A little radical, some people might say, but it helped him put things in perspective and concentrate. Sometime around when he actually started following this philosophy and people started fearing Vrases, Luca died.
His father's proud son whom he had taught everything died, consumed by a thirst for revenge, some might say, but in reality, he died saving his sister Blaise and himself from his mother, around the time Djall came into his life.
The rest is history and the reason criminals fear Vrases.
"A Knut for your thoughts, wizard." Asked the Devil archon as they reached his mother's cell.
"Why did you choose me, Djall? You probably had wizards stronger than me to choose from, more motivated too, then why me?" Vrases opened the cell as his question echoed on the walls of the dungeon. He saw his mother tied to the walls looking as lifeless as she had been for the last three months.
"You, Vrases, were insane, desperate, willing and thirsty. All the things required to lose any kind of moral compass." The smirk could almost be heard in the archon's voice. Vrases remembered those days, he was above them now and nothing would stop him. He was different now.
He moved towards his mother, knowing well she was alive even if her breathing was low and shallow. She was wearing or more aptly the dress was still draped over her from the party one year ago, the night she murdered his father and planned to take all the Zabini wealth with her after murdering him and his sister.
He utterly despised her. No words of hate were enough for him to describe her, so he hadn't killed her, he had kept her here, day after day her screams soothing his soul, making his own wounds heal. He had already arranged for Blaise to get admission to Hogwarts before anything else and sent her to Britain to his grandfather.
His wand slipped from his sleeve into his hand, its tip tracing her blotchy face, dried blood stains at odd spots marring it.
"I guess this is it for us, mother." A sad smile adorning his features, the dark astral walls around him looked truly grim at that moment. Even the sad smile he had was more because he couldn't increase his mother's misery rather than remorse for finally killing her.
The only words he could use to describe her right now were scant and repugnant, he was wishing for another scream from her sordid and gloomy face, just once more before leaving. Then he remembered that her larynx had shattered long before her body had become lifeless.
"Fancy a joke, Djall? It's time for a proper Vrases farewell to his victim," said Vrases as he got up and Djall smiled. His feathers stood on his body in excitement, his razor-sharp teeth became visible as he grinned and his eyes bulged out more so than usual.
"Do you know, mother, what a pregnant fourteen-year-old and the fetus inside of her have in common?" He asked, his Italian accent thickening at the end of the question.
The creature went wild with laughter, "WHAT? Do tell us Vrases," the creature got out in between wheezes.
Vrases knelt and came level to his mother, looked her in her eyes as a glint of red came in his black ones.
"They both think 'Oh shit, my mom is going to kill me'". Vrases finished as he saw a flash of fear after a long time on his mother's disfigured face.
Djall went mad with laughter, clutching his sides. Though Vrases wasn't laughing, he wasn't even smiling anymore. "And mother, do you know what's similar and different between that joke and your two beautiful children?" He continued, his voice mechanical and lifeless, his hands curled into a fist as he once again searched her eyes for an answer.
"Luca and Blaise were thinking the night of that party, when their mother came out of their father's bedroom 'Oh shit, my mom is going to kill me' but neither I nor Blaise were pregnant, mother". He continued and his fist smashed into his mother's already disfigured face. "I wasn't angry that you had been cheating on father or that you married him for his wealth. He would've happily given you all of that too. I am angry that you killed him when he was at his most vulnerable, I am angry that you thought not once before stabbing me, your own flesh and blood, I am angry that you never even listened once to me before moving in on Blaise too." He receded his fist from her face where fresh blood stains now covered the stale ones.
Vrases got up flicked his wrist to see his watch, it showed the time to be around half past seven. He was getting late; Krum would be here any minute.
"Anyways mother, let's hope we never see each other again, I am leaving you alive to spread the word of Vrases from Italy to other countries. Let the people all know that this world is rotten and those who are making it rot deserve to die. Someone has to do it. Because the world… can't go on like this. Vrases will bring the judgement, Vrases will change the world."
He turned away from his mother, having made his point he started moving towards the exit of the dungeon to finish his assassination and portkey to the Albanian forest. Just as he touched the door of the chamber and motioned an amused looking Djall to follow him, a low voice came from behind him.
"S..s..so..sorr..sorry", she rasped, the ordeal took a great deal of effort out of her, it was evident as the previously stumped wound on her face once again started bleeding.
Vrases paused then snorted, the snort soon formed into a growling laughter and after that a full-on maniacal laugh that was making even Djall uneasy. Suddenly, with incomprehensible speed his wand was in his hand and a blue jet of light shot towards her neck, it all happened in less than a second.
"Wha..what was that?" Djall asked as he saw the now limp form of Sofia Zabini.
"Crushed her voice box completely, wouldn't want her telling who Vrases really is, now would we?" Said Vrases casually as he exited the dungeons.
Djall nodded and straightened his ruffled feathers, having second thoughts about choosing his Adeptus.
DW
Viktor Krum really did not understand why Vrases had asked for muggle vehicles, magical transportation was always less cumbersome and faster. What Vrases managed to do was beyond his comprehension. He had already gotten admission papers for Vrases in Durmstrang and info on Black and his associates, Krum really wanted Harry to die.
The heavy SUV skidded to a halt along with the two other vehicles in front of the large manor, the manor though was famous, had become just a landmark now for people to tell the various streets in Rome. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut, took out his lighter and lit his cigar again.
"This vos the right place, yes?" Krum asked the auror who was driving the vehicle. Before the auror could respond, a mechanical, Italian accented voice replied from behind him, "Yes, Mr. Krum, this is the right place."
Krum turned so fast that he almost swallowed his cigar, he scowled towards the Italian whose face was blurred. He wore a simple denim Jacket with long jeans, his whole head was blurred with the unspeakable spell which was forbidden to the normal wizarding population. Krum could've sworn that the wizard wasn't behind him a second ago.
He had never seen such a bizarre combination of clothing in his entire life, "don't scare me like this again, I haff everything you vant. We should move." He told the Italian in his gruff voice. The Italian just gave him an amused smile as he got in the vehicle.
"When is the portkey fixed to this vehicle timed?" asked Vrases as all the three vehicles started moving.
"In about an hour." Came Krum's reply.
"Give me the information on the victim.", Vrases twirled his wand as he listened to what Krum had to offer.
"You already know about Black as my father had briefed you, these are the name of his associates, a group that he calls his Chaos. The warehouse that you wanted has also been emptied in the location specified. The names of his known associates are Jasper Prince, Alissa Rosier, Vladimir Polkov and Alice Ollivander."
Vrases mentally made note of the two influential names that came up.
"Prince has not known Harry for long, has betrayed their trust once during a werewolf incident concerning me but otherwise is on good terms. Currently dating Alissa Rosier," rattled off Krum, wondering what in world was Vrases going to do with this information
"Mmhhhmmmm", said Vrases, showing that he was listening.
"Not much information on Alissa except for the already known facts that she comes from a family of death eaters; Vladimir Polkov is Harry's earliest friend along with Alissa, though him being overly friendly with any girls he meets has earned him the nickname of Chad, Ollivander is also a new student with best scores in Runes OWLS in over a century."
"Hmmmm, oh are we done? Huh, that was shorter than I expected, anyways give me the photo of Black and his best friend." He said as he flicked his wand back into his sleeve.
Krum while agitated, complied with the order and gave him the photos he asked for.
"What are their names again?"
"Were you not Listening?!"
Vrases scoffed, "What gave you that idea, it was just amusing seeing you rattle off like a bitch"
DW
Fleur did her controlled breathing exercises as she approached the bar again. Not only had that Prince guy stepped on her toes much more than she had anticipated, he of all people already had a date to this ball.
Great. Just great.
She huffed at the mere thought of her not having a date, it was getting sad and almost pathetic really, she neared the bar and glared at the bartender, "Get me a firewhiskey.", the bartender reeled back at the ferocity of the order.
"Now." She growled in a low voice when the bartender didn't move, he scurried off to get her drink like his life depended on it when he heard that same agitated voice the second time.
She sighed and leaned against the bar, maybe she should just call it a night. The signs had been there since she came to this wretched place. Her eyes scanned the rest of the hall, the music had long since switched from formal and upbeat to sensual and slow. It was nearing eleven and the hopelessness was becoming unbearable.
The bartender placed the drink near her and backed off to take another order. She gave a heavy sigh again as she took the drink, maybe it was time to back out. She took the drink with her and got off to find Diluq and take her leave.
But hey, at least her biggest fears were unfounded, she didn't even see Black once in the hordes of students dancing and milling around.
Or so she thought, she was a little distracted celebrating her small victory when a man crashed into her, she yelped and closed her eyes and would've almost fallen down if he wouldn't have caught her and surprisingly her drink too. She slowly opened her eyes to gaze into a pair of green eyes through a green mask she was more familiar with than she wanted to be.
Fate really had it in for her today, she had fallen straight into the hands of Harry Black.
Before she could open her mouth to say something, he gave her a charming smile and said, "Can I have the dance, sunshine?"
She hadn't heard this nickname in over two years.
End Notes- Hope you guys are still alive and have not died from the edge, as I said, I regret nothing. The next chapter will conclude the introductory part of the story and hopefully clear all the doubts that you might've been having.
Stay safe and spread happiness.
The recommendation for this chapter is another Harry/Fleur story named The purpose of Wings by Charleannete.