Author notes: So since this chapter gets a bit dark I had added some trigger warning at the end if you want or need to read them do so.
Giotto was furious. Against his own reasoning, but he was.
When he had first known Hariel Jamie Potter-Black, she had been an Impossible Sky. A very volatile and dangerous one at that. One that defied the rules of nature with her Flames and one that possessed the Flames of Night. He had needed to know more. He needed to protect his famiglia from such worrisome unknowns.
The second time he had seen her, their official first meeting, she had been a lovely sight in a long violet and silver gown that made her green eyes seem even more bright and intense. Long locks of black hair dancing with the breeze, her petite and delicate-looking form had made her seem inoffensive and demure. Very misleading, that.
She had looked at him and through him. He had not known if he had been using some kind of Sky intuition or not.
His own Hyper-Intuition had been… acting up around her. It soon decided something and then the opposite. In the end, it had caused him to doom himself.
All the little glints of mischief and fun he had observed while she spoke with the Cursed Ghost of Alistair were gone. She had looked at him with wariness and distrust. Her stare was sharp and seemingly ever knowing, and her elfin face was carefully devoid of any emotion.
They had talked, her angry and defensive, and he calm and friendly. He had chosen a beautiful place for their meeting. Giardino di Ninfa. It held important and precious memories of times long past. He liked spending time there. It was as beautiful as it was peaceful.
Then she had tricked him doing an unforgivable thing.
She had looked to be larger than life at that moment. Arrogant, yes, she had been genuinely arrogant and unrepentant, ruthless and totally unmovable. Her smile was a sweet little thing that hid all the sharpness inside. He had been mystified and angry. Confused and hurt and indignant.
Whatever she had done, in a way that he felt should be forbidden, a glowing orange Sky bond had formed between them, as strong as a cord of steel mixed with glittering diamonds.
It was, by all means, impossible. Sky bonds did not form that way. Skies did not form Guardian bonds with other Skies.
He had told her so. She had been indifferent like she couldn't care less. She apparently had the ability to form such bonds, and she did not care. She just didn't. She had seen a way to protect herself, and she had used it; she had been remorseless and uncaring of any collateral damage, like the forming of such bonds could be used as a mere tool.
The Perfect Mafia Donna, he had thought then, bitterness filling his whole being. He had hated her then because she had embodied all that he had despised of what the Vongola had become.
The third time they had met his expectations had been blown and then been obliterated when she had crossed a seemingly concrete wall like she was a ghost and brought him to a fundamentally different world hidden inside their world.
The fun had been back in her eyes, with a certain gentleness while she spoke to him. She had not given him any explanation whatsoever. He had caught then that she didn't know he didn't know about magic, and he had decided to say nothing and play along since that seemed to be the theme in their troubling relationship.
She had walked the streets with curiosity, looking at everything and pointing things at him with a previously lacking enthusiasm and an almost childish glee.
"Look, Giotto, don't you think it's grand how these arches keep moving and reshaping? "
"Oi, Giotto, listen to that! What do you think it means?"
"He's just an old moron, don't mind him. If he talks to you that way again, I will hex him, and this time it will be for real."
"Uh, so this thing is kind of difficult to eat. Just got the raisins flavor. Ugh. Bertie Boot Beans are easier to deal with."
She had left him alone in a Magical Café, a mug of off hot coffee in his very corporeal hands, while she went away to explore. She had lots of things to do and see, buy and try. They could talk later.
She had even given him some gold coins. Gold coins. He had spent hours in that Café, the beverage never getting cold. He had watched the gargles of kids getting ice cream while their parents talked about this or that.
He was in a magical town. Magic was a thing. Hariel was a witch. There were witches and wizards, and probably that was just the tip of the iceberg.
Apparently, twenty-eight famiglias controlled Britain, hers being one of them. When she had first said that, his mind had gone directly to the Mafia. Worried that they had missed it, and how had they even missed it?
But no. It was magic. Probably. Which he wasn't sure whether it was worse or not because he was now a Sky Guardian to this Witch-Sky with dangerous Flames and Flames of Night that didn't let her harmonize with any element.
Except him. A Sky. A Dead Sky at that. No Harmonization had happened, but the bond was there, and it was real. It was maddening that such a thing could happen.
He now figured that it must be a magical thing, and wasn't that even more frightening?
How did it even work? He had longed to talk to his Guardians, but… he was worried about them too, so he wouldn't do it because what if she did to them the same thing she had done to him?
She had seemed, well, different, now that he could see her in this foreign world and in this new light, but she was dangerous, and he would not underestimate her ever again.
So, what if he had felt somewhat guilty when she had uttered the words Sky Guardian to a random civilian shopkeeper. He clearly did not have Flames. Let her deal with the Vindice. He was not telling her about Flames, not when she had all that power over him. Power obtained using trickery and magic.
Then, when the same shopkeeper had started telling him off when he had been looking at some of the books she had purchased, wanting to know more about everything, she had gotten indignant on his behalf. Threatened the man to hex and curse him if he dared to speak to him in that way again.
The shopkeeper's words had been a bit harsh. "Don't touch that, Sky ghost, and know your place. Magical creatures are given so much freedom these days."
She had been livid then, her Flames for once reacting to her mood (Was it because they were in a magical place? Or…?), and they were feeling enraged and even murderous on his behalf. Not that the poor man, who had just nodded, pale and shaken, had seen them, or Hariel herself, who seemed as unaware of them as always.
She had whipped a stick out of somewhere and pointed it at him. It had all been fast, and in no time at all, the hair in the man's head had turned to a bright glowing pink leaving him spluttering and indignant.
It had been such a mist-child thing to do, too, that he had almost smiled at the show of immaturity.
Now though, watching her unconscious and hurt, dark bruises forming on her pale skin, blood dripping slowly from her nose, left in a dingy cell full of others in the same or even worse state as she had made him angry. He could do nothing but watch over her, though. His corporeal status a thing that had slowly vanished the longer they had been separated, and that didn't seem to come back now.
He had gone to Reborn, but he had not been seen. He had spied on these men and women, these lowly delinquents, and he had despaired that she would get in such trouble all the time. Of all things, she was being trafficked by a human trafficking gang. He wondered if they were even Mafia-related. He hadn't felt any Flames, and the way they worked, it didn't seem likely. It seemed like this Sky, that was his, had terrible luck.
It could potentially explain her over-the-top paranoia.
xxx
The first thing she noticed was the pungent odor of unwashed bodies, blood, vomit, urine, and feces. Malfoy Manor then. She tried to move, to get away from it. It was nauseating.
Then drifted. The second thing she noticed was the pain.
Her skull throbbed, her stomach ached intensely, and she felt like she had been stabbed.
So, she was in Malfoy Manor again?
Hariel opened her eyes, and the world was blurry and full of colors that seemed to bleed everywhere. Oh, the floors were going to get so dirty. The Malfoys would be pissed. Fuck them.
She moved her head and looked around groggily. There were people around her. Naked people.
This was not Malfoy Manor. It was too dirty. But the lights were lovely. Except that her head hurt too much, and she tasted blood.
Where were Ron and Hermione? She needed to find them. They needed to escape. Needed to get away, get the Horcruxes. Kill Voldemort again. Again. Again. Why didn't he just die? Wait, wasn't he already dead? She felt so confused, and her cottoned brain was not helping. Umm, Cotton. Cotton Candy. Candyland. No, the smell was too bad for that. She gagged, the bile rising until she vomited everything that had been in her stomach.
She really felt ill.
She got up, after falling four times, in wobbly legs. She let a dirty and rough wall hold her weight. There was a bittersweet aftertaste in her mouth mixed with the blood.
Oh, she was drugged then? What Potion had she been dosed with?
The Basilisk Venom in her veins should protect her from poisons, so why...?
Oh, she was naked too. Why was she naked?
Did the Death Eaters…? But, no, she didn't feel pain there. Just everywhere else. That… was good. Yes, good.
And there were no Death Eaters. She wasn't in Malfoy Manor.
Where was she?
The truly filthy and naked people around her were either asleep or sitting, hunched and hugging themselves. Why? It was hot. So very hot, that's why they were naked, right?
So hot. She needed water and her wands.
She frowned. Where were her wands? Oh, they were there but disillusioned. Ops, no…they weren't? Her arms were very long, though, and her skin dripped small orange butterflies everywhere.
Oh, the Death Eaters must have taken them. Yeah, well. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but no such luck. Of course not.
She sat in a corner, as away from the naked people as possible. They smelled.
It was Malfoy Manor again. She was sure of it.
She dreamed.
When she woke again, she didn't even try to open her eyes. So, she had been kidnapped. Alright, she could work with that.
She needed a wand, Hermione and Ron, and then they had to get out.
She had neither. Where had they taken Hermione? Was she being tortured again? Was Bellatrix carving her arm? MUDBLOOD.
NO. NO. She was going to kill her this time. Like she had killed Sirius. That bitch was not hurting her friends again.
She opened her eyes, and the pain came again strong. Her head was fuzzy, and she was crying. Why was she crying? She tried to rip the tears from her face, but her hands only came back with some smudged blood.
Her eyes hurt. Everything was so bright, and the colors kept moving and it was so very disorienting.
The naked people didn't move. But they were alive, she thought. Maybe.
Five or so little kids and some babies were crying in a corner. The babies were crying. The kids were quiet. Weird. Kids were never quiet. A silencing spell?
Why would Death Eaters want babies? Oh, yes, sacrifices. Blood sacrifices. Ugh. Damn them. She would curse them all. Burn them all. Again.
Still, she needed to get out of there, and she needed things.
Things being a wand, Hermione and Ron. Then she needed to rescue the other prisoners. Damn Death Eaters taking small children. Muggleborns or muggles, she was sure. They wouldn't risk precious magical blood.
She went to the naked people and looked around, searching. There.
"You," she said, and her voice sounded so weird. Had they charmed her voice? But why? "Come on, we are going."
She kicked Ron in the shin. Only it was not Ron. But it would have to do because she needed a Ron and a Hermione.
"Going where?" Ron asked, and he sounded so young. What was he now, 14? All gangly limbs and doe eyes. Blue eyes. Brown eyes. Gray eyes.
"Out, come on. Let's find her, and let's get out of here."
He didn't move, so she kicked him again. Hard. He was being a lazy bastard.
"Come on, Ron, we have been drugged. We need out. NOW."
Ron looked at her with eyes too large and red-rimmed. Hmm. Well, he was not Ron, she thought vaguely, Ron didn't have gray eyes, and the face was all wrong too.
Oh, but she required a Ron, so he would have to do. Now to find a Hermione.
She walked between the piles of naked bodies. Some shouted at her, the majority was silent.
They all smelled so fucking bad.
"Oh, there you are," Hariel was a little bit more composed now that she had Ron and Hermione. Everything was always better when the Golden Trio was together. Especially in kidnappings and death-defying situations.
She poked Hermione, who was seated and hugging herself.
Thank Merlin. She was not with Bellatrix. Hariel blinked, but… no, she was not Hermione.
Hermione could be dying for all she knew. She frowned at the Hermione. She needed to get out fast and save Hermione. The real one.
"Como on, we are going."
"Going where? There are too many of them. The doors are locked. Girlie, get used to it. We are in here for good or until they move us again. I have been here for months, and before that, in another place…
Good. Thank Merlin.
Hermione was coherent and talked a lot. She would be a good Hermione.
"It's alright," she tried to reassure her, but getting distracted by pretty lights taking the forms of growing flowers dancing behind her, "We are going out. I need you two."
She went to examine the door. It was metallic. She was so tired. Sleepy. Everything was so fuzzy. She should go back and sleep a little. No. No, she shouldn't.
She tried to open the door with a wandless alohomora.
The door kept being closed.
She was drugged. Her magic was somehow disconnected from her. What had they given her? Had the Death Eaters taken her Magic?
Shit.
She closed her eyes and let her body rest against the door. It felt cool against her burning skin. Should she sleep a little more? Just a minute.
No. No. Never. Never sleep. But. But. She was so sleepy and tired and hurt. The pain helped a little, though. It grounded her. Somewhat.
She frowned. Her head hurt, her eyes were seeing things, and she couldn't use magic.
Right. They needed to get out.
"Come on," she told Ron and Hermione, "Don't keep me fucking waiting."
Ron at least seemed to be on board, but Hermione was being stubborn and hadn't moved an inch.
"Oh, Merlin's shakes, go for her while I open the door," she ordered her friend. Full General mode on. No fucks left to give.
"Can you really open it?" Ron asked. What a stupid question. She wanted the real Ron. At least he was funny.
"GO. NOW."
She went to the door again and found a sharp edge where the look was. That would do. A voice told her not to use her thumb for this. Those hurt like bitches, and it was stupid. Like paper cuts. But worse.
She cut her wrist in a fast slash. Not a clean one, though. Oh well, maybe she should have used less strength. Now there was too much blood. Useful. Blood was always valuable.
She looked at her hands. Yes, they were there. Of course. She was alive.
She tried to remember. The black one did…? What did it do? Ah, no matter, it was the gold and red one that she needed for this.
Ron had brought Hermione, who seemed pissed at them. Typical.
Hariel looked at the ring. What rune?
"What rune?" she asked Hermione, who, of course, would know.
"What the fuck are you on? Let me be, you pair of sickos. There is no escape."
"Right, thanks," muttered Hariel. Hermione's voice had made her remember. They were tiny, and it hurt to focus, but she found the correct one and let seven drops of blood fall while she tapped at it with her nail seven times. At least, she hoped they were seven. The ring glowed, and she stuck it against the door.
The door opened.
"Come on now, don't dawdle; we don't have the time," she said, opening the door. Ron and Hermione stood there, looking at her weirdly. They seemed confused. Of course. They must be drugged too. But their weird eyes, all bleeding colors and changing forms, were looking at her more weirdly.
Well, that wasn't new. She got a bit distracted by the big purple pony floating behind them. It was stunning. No, she needed to check herself. Potter, dammit. Constant Vigilance.
"We don't have time for that now. Let's go."
They went.
She looked back, the ring still shining, and closed the door. She had her Ron and her Hermione. They needed to get out.
They would rescue the rest later. Later.
They were shouting at her. She shrugged and stared at her not-friends.
"Alright, Ron, Hermione, let's do this."
"My name is not Ron," Ron protested.
"It is for now, alright? I need you to be a Ron."
"It's alright. We will be whoever you want if you can open the door." Hermione said logically.
Hariel nodded. Now, her wand?
It was not there. There was nothing there. Empty space and colors.
And a bigger door. Oh.
She looked at the ring, but it had gone back to being a ring instead of a key.
Well. She was still bleeding, and that was good.
"Hariel, can you see me?"
Hariel frowned and looked at the glowing gold being.
"Oh, hey, Smolder. You are bleeding gold everywhere. The Malfoys will like it." she paused, not happy with that. "Don't do it, okay? Nice wings."
"Hariel, what…?"
But she had stopped paying attention to him. She had a thing to do. An IMPORTANT THING and she always got hyper-focused on her plans.
She looked at the rune in the ring and started copying and drawing in the door using her blood. A deliberate mistake or not. Either it would open the door, or it would make it explode, and maybe them too because Runes were fucking precise and scary. Oh well. Hermione should have done this, but she was… not there. But she was there. Because she needed her there, so she was.
It was glowing. That was good.
"Get the FUCK AWAY from the door!" She shouted Ron and Hermione, and she ran and tried to cover herself as much as possible. Even when her whole body screamed at her in pain at every sudden movement.
There was a big explosion. Hariel loved explosions. But she didn't want to look at this one because the colors were doing strange things to her mind and her eyes hurt and she hurt entirely. The entire world must be hurting too.
"Let's go, Boss Lady," Ron, not Ron, was screaming at her. Ah, but why would he do that? Her head hurt.
They all went to the door that was now a big mouth with teeth of stone and metal. It growled menacingly.
"No," said Hariel, remembering the rules, "They will come. So, we wait here."
Hermione and Ron shared a look, and Hermione ignored her and got out. Of course, she did.
Now she would get hexed by Bellatrix or maybe killed by Voldemort.
Hariel was cold now. Well, she was naked. And so was everyone. What was this, a nudist commune?
"Hariel, you are drugged and acting irrationally. If you continue with this, you will get killed," Smolder said. Hmm. What did he know about surviving anyway? He was dead. And glowy. And very pretty. She needed to go and save Hermione.
"Oh, shut up, things that need doing will be done. Who the fuck cares about drugs or not drugs?"
She took a chunk of twisted and still hot metal in her hand. It was not a wand, but it would have to do. It looked a bit like a deformed claw.
"Take something to fight them," she ordered Ron. "Now we have to go after her because they are going to get her."
Ron just stood there looking like a moron. Hariel poked with her feet at a sharp chunk of stone and signaled it to her best friend that wasn't.
"That will do."
Giotto was talking again, but she ignored him. He was not Hermione, Ron, a Wand, or part of the plan, so he would be forgotten.
"Let's go."
When they got out, there was a long dark passageway. The smell was gone, though. Thank Morgana for small mercies. She would go back for the babies. No wait.
"Giotto, you go back and guard the babies. There are babies and children. They are naked. Not okay. It must be Death Eaters. Protect them."
Smolder looked at her strangely. Um. It seemed a theme. Well, let's get going.
Her feet were numb, but she didn't have shoes, so that was to be expected.
They heard a feminine shout, and Hariel ran.
Hermione was pinned against a wall by a burly man. She was trying to fight him off, and he had a hold of her arms, and was he…?
She saw red and stuck the metal piece hard, searching for soft spots so it would go all in. Once inside, she moved it to cause the major damage possible, so he would bleed out like the pig he was. She stuck it again and again until Ron shook her body.
What now?
"Stop, Boss Lady," Ron said. "He's dead."
"I'm Harry, not a lady." Even if she was. Not Ron shouldn't know that. Uh.
"Thank you," muttered Hermione. She didn't seem very injured, but she was now covered in blood and looked pale. Paler.
Well, everything was going perfectly.
She tried to find the man's wand. But there was no wand.
There was a cell phone and a pair of muggle weapons. What.
NO. No. NO. She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand. So kidnapped by muggles or imperiused muggles. Muggle Death Eaters?
She shook her head. Nothing made sense, so she just needed to act.
If she kept acting, things would keep reacting, and things would go on.
She started undressing him.
"Um, Harry? Boss lady? What are you doing?" Ron asked. Fake Ron was a bit useless, but it was better than no Ron.
"She's getting his weapons," Hermione said; of course she was. Hermione was still brilliant, at least.
"And clothes, we are naked. We can't be naked. It is very unsanitary," she told them. It was. Really unsanitary, and it made her skin crawl. "And weird. I don't want to see more naked people."
The man had a jacket, a shirt and a t-shirt. Also, boxers, belted pants, boots, and socks.
Jackpot, But they needed to be fast. They would come eventually if he was not back soon. They always did.
She put on the shirt and closed the buttons haphazardly. It was big enough to cover her until her knees but she could move in it alright.
She gave Hermione the shirt, and she put it on fast, a grateful look on her face.
Ron was too short for anything, but he put on the leather jacket and the boxers, even if he did so with a grimace. It didn't cover him a lot. He was tall. Ron always was tall; that was a good thing to know. This Hermione was really tall, too, at least a foot taller than hers.
Hariel put on the socks. Socks were always important. Dobby always said so. Wait. No. Dobby. No, no, no. She needed to save him this time.
She would.
They looked at the weapons, a sharp enough knife, and a gun. Huh.
"Well, do you know how to use them?" she asked, and the Hermione that was not was fast to take the gun.
Ron showed her his rock, and Harry rolled her eyes and promptly swore because it made her head hurt even more if that was possible. What in the seven hells had she been dosed with? Someone was going to pay dearly for this. She was inches away from fiendfyreing everything and everyone. Well, except the naked people. She would save them. Uhm, maybe it was good that she was currently incapable of using magic.
She took the belt from the pants of the guy. It was made of leather with a chunky metallic buckle. It would do.
"What do you prefer?" she asked him, showing him the weapons.
Ron got very, very pale, almost nauseous even.
"I… I don't think I am the stabbing people kind of person."
Hariel laughed. Maybe this Ron could also be funny.
"Mate, you are brill." She took the knife. She was good with the knife.
She looked at Giotto, who was not with the naked kids, and frowned. Well. He was a Ghost. Not much that he could do for them. Still, could he stop looking at her like that?
Time to move.
They walked until some sounds could be heard, someone was shouting. There was also laughter.
The shouts were colored and bled in pretty lights. It was impressive. The laughter was dark and gloomy, making green rain pour over them.
How many? How many?
She remembered the other ring. Touched it. Six.
Six wizards would be a stretch, but well, muggles. Whatever. They could do it. But what if they were wizards? She was so confused.
She closed her eyes. It was calm in the darkness, without all the colors, forms, sounds, and voices. Right, if they were muggles, they would kill them with muggle weapons; even if they got hurt, their bodies were more durable, they had magic protecting them.
Except hers was missing or blocked in some way, and the fake other parts of the Golden Trio were muggles. They seemed to be.
So... well, she would take the brunt of it, and they could just help. Then if they were wizards... well, wizards were not used to muggle weapons, but it depended on what Death Eater was there. If they got Dolohov, they were pretty much done. Potter luck, she thought, please NOT Dolohov. Fine. It was not a Hermione-approved perfect plan, but it was okay for a drugged Hariel plan.
She opened her eyes and flinched at all the everything. Hemione and Ron were waiting this time at least. Giotto looked worried. All this sensory input was suffocating.
"Alright, there are six people out there. We will take them out, and well, that's it."
"WHAT?" her friends shouted in unison. Uh, so, that was a thing that even fake doppelgangers did.
"Guys, inside voices. My head hurts."
"Hariel, trust me in this; this is not a good idea," Giotto said al glowy, with those enormous pretty wings. She wanted wings too.
"Right. You do it then," she told him, showing him the way. He was frustrated. The hell. He had no right. He was not drugged and naked, not that she was naked now. "Though so"
Well, it seemed like they all were going to be unreasonable, so Hariel shrugged and went first as she had planned.
There was an average, not metallic door, thank Merlin, and when she opened it slowly, she saw a small room with a table and four people playing cards. She frowned. Where were the other two? No matter. They were so muggle it hurt.
She ran into the one nearer to her and cut his throat, and then she was in the next one, and something got her, even if she had a shield. She had a shield, right? No.
She didn't have a shield, and now she had been hit by some unknown curse.
Damn. But it burned. She had slashed the neck of the unknown muggle, though, so that was good.
Oh, and Hermione was shooting, and soon there was silence. Perfection.
"You are hurt! You are crazy! How could you just go in there alone?" Ron shouted at her, burning anger in his strange grey eyes. His face was red, too; that was the only thing he shared with Ron. No freckles that she could she.
"Shut up, Ron. They are dead. It will be alright," Hermione said with a sharp smile. She looked very composed and in charge, just how it should be. She was better at being Hermione than Other Ron at being Ron.
"Right, mate, don't lose it right now," Hariel tried to console him, "Let's search these guys and be done with it."
They had guns, knives, and some things Hariel didn't recognize even from all the muggle movies she had seen lately but that Hermione took anyway. Well, Hermione would know.
"Right, so how does this work?" she asked with one of the guns in her hand, looking at it quizzically.
Both Ron and Hermione stared at her incredulously.
"What?"
Hermione, the one with hard eyes and blonde hair, shook her head.
"Just aim and pull the trigger," she explained fast, "it will give a kick, so watch for it, and they have to have the safety off."
Harry shrugged. It would have to do. This Hermione was faulty though, Hermione's explanations were always long. This had been like fifteen seconds.
There was another annoyingly big and mean looking metal door in front of them. She hoped it was the last one because she was bleeding a lot as it was. She needed some blood-replenishing potion. Probably even a healer to clean her body of the potions, or drugs or whatever it was.
She touched the ring again. Shit. Eight people outside. But now, she was pretty sure they would be muggles. And the odds were way better now that Hermione and Ron were cooperating.
Alright, it was going alright. Even if her side was bleeding a lot.
Oh, blood.
Yes.
Blood.
"So this is the plan. I will make another explosion happen just there, and then we are going to get out fast. There are at least eight people out there, probably armed, but they will probably be distracted by the sudden blast. Some will be near and get crushed by something if we are lucky. At the very least, they will get disoriented too."
Hariel was feeling salty about being drugged. If she could make them have some vertigo, she would feel better.
Wow. That sentence sounded almost like she was getting better. Was she getting better? Since small colorful butterflies and flowers danced in front of her, he doubted it.
"Right," Ron said, "I… will shoot them too."
"I should hope so," Hermione said with a snide tone, more typical of Draco Malfoy than of her. But, well, she was blonde now. It must be a blonde thing.
Harry snickered and then started giggling. Everything was suddenly funny.
"Hariel, are you sure of this? You are unhinged. Can't you use your magic or something like that?" Giotto asked her.
"You are not part of the plan. Not listening to you," she said, sending him an annoyed glare. "And don't mention the M-word in front of muggles. Don't want Azkaban again."
She signaled at the Hermione and Ron that were not Hermione and Ron. And who were looking at her half impatiently and half bewildered.
"Don't you think that was the first thing I would have done if I could?" she asked him, bitterness lacing her voice. Her magic was out. They had taken it. Or maybe she was drugged. Or both.
Smolder looked pained. Well, she was the one who was hurt, so he could just go and suck it.
She got to the door and took the blood from her side, warm and flowing freely, and started drawing a massive rune meant to make things explode.
If it went well, it would make things explode within a reasonable radius of 15 feet. It if went bad, it would explode chaotically. She was forgetting something else, but Hermione was silent, so it must not be vital.
"Alright, get away from it now," she said when it started to glow, and she herself ran outside the room and crouched low waiting.
This time she looked, and it was a big beautiful, chaotic explosion full of colorful butterflies.
"100 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" She shouted, laughing hard at the aftershocks of wild magic. "Let's go, guys."
And she ran again, even if she felt so lighthearted now. It must be the drugs or potions. She just needed to ignore it and keep moving.
Outside there was chaos. Blood, people moving, people shooting. Oh, she was shooting too. When had that happened? Was she losing time now?
She aimed at one muggle man and shot.
Oh, she had been aiming at the wand hand, not the neck. Well.
The gun stopped working somewhere down the line, and she was grappling with a woman. She tried to cut her good with her knife, but she was stronger and she was getting so very slow. Why?
It was not nap time, so why was she feeling so cold and sleepy?
Then there was suddenly silence, and the woman didn't move anymore. Dead? Hariel stabbed her just to be sure. She should maybe cut her throat. What if she became an inferius? No, she was muggle but...
"Hariel."
Oh, that was not Ron or Hermione. Or Smolder.
She looked up, and there was a man. She frowned.
"Yes?"
"Do you know him? Hermione said. She was pointing her gun at him.
Ron too.
Eh. Did she know him? No. She didn't think so.
"Leon," he said, and a green thing leaped next to her. Oooooh, Leon. Yes, she remembered Leon, the Holy Chameleon. How could she not?
"Oh, Leon. It's you. I missed you cutie! What are you doing here?
She petted him; now, she was getting dizzy again, or maybe she had been dizzy all the time. He looked at the man. Her mind was fuzzy, but oh yeah, there.
"Oh, Sinclair. That's you. I need my things. Do you know where they are? She asked, knife still inside the woman, just in case.
There was another man too, and he pointed to another room.
Damn, but this place was full of rooms, doors, and dead people. She rolled her eyes and then winced because she had forgotten about how it hurt to do that now.
"Come here, you silly woman," Sinclair ordered. Ordered.
"Oi, you don't talk that way to Boss Lady," Ron shouted.
"I will fucking kill you," Hermione said.
Sinclair looked amused at Ron and Hermione. Harry too. Even Giotto was looking less serious now. He seemed almost relieved.
They were adorable, but totally not really Ron and Hermione. But they needed to work as such until… what again? Had she needed to do something and rescue someone? Maybe? It was getting hard to think.
"I am going to get my things," she got up wincing "you can go, and I don't know, save the naked people and get them out and be all heroic?"
She didn't care. She needed her wand to heal herself. Oh, but she was drugged, so there would be no healing.
She moved slowly, so slow, dammit, until she got to the place. Ugh, full of boxes.
She was not going to be able to find her stuff there, so she opened several boxed until she found one with clothes.
She shrugged and started unbuttoning the shirt.
"What are you doing now?"
Sinclair again. Apparently, he wasn't interested in the naked people.
"Don't look; I am going to put damn clothes on; that's what's going to happen."
She felt hands grabbing her, and uh, she must have been falling?
Sinclair was too close now, and she didn't like that, so she stabbed him.
"FUCK," he growled, and then everything went yellow, like even the butterflies that still surrounded her were yellow. Everything was glowing yellow. What the hell had she been drugged with?
She felt safe. It was okay. She could sleep now. She knew it deep down. Somehow.
The last thing she saw were Sinclair's stunned eyes. He was kind of pretty. She was surrounded by pretty people.
xxx
Notes: Trigger Warnings:
+People being killed by Harry Potter and other people. Not really super graphic.
+Mentions of rape, not to Hariel and person trying (and failing) to assault a woman. Not Hariel.
+Human trafficking: lots of kidnapped people, drugged, beaten, and naked. Also, children. NOTHING HAPPENS. But it could trigger someone so I tell you.
+ VERY DRUGGED HARIEL, like epically drugged with muggle drugs her body is reacting pretty badly too, so all the chapter she's high as a kite and not being herself. Her reasonings are offs and well... you can imagine. She is having hallucinations the whole time.
+Lots of blood - Well, that was it.
xxx
So, what do you think? This chapter was the one that was done weeks ago and that I've had to rework to add Giotto, the uncertain future is next. Hope to hear from you lovelies!