Disclaimer: One Piece and Harry Potter does not belong to me, each belongs to their respective author.

Challenge by TheBlackSeaReaper.

-.- The Blood of a Demon

The next morning after a strong storm the castle woke up buried in the middle of a white layer of snow, thereby canceling anything that had to do with outside the castle, and that included the class of Herbology and caring for mandrakes, which had become so important that Professor Sprout had chosen to take charge of herself.

Ace advanced to the library that morning hoping to read something, whatever, in order to clear so many things that were around his head.

This was definitely not his year, and they hadn't even reached the end of the semester, he could only imagine what could follow. In all directions he had received reminders of his past, of his failures, of what he had lost, of what he could lose, and of what he was. A pirate who had ruined his crew, a commander who had failed his captain, a demon who carried the blood not of one but of two monsters.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory." Something in the tone in which he said it caught Ace's attention "I mean to say, if Portgas´ marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Portgas he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Portgas, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on,

"Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Portgas is known to dislike the rules, Flich follows them to the letter. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Portgas since day one, taking pictures of him and all. Next thing we know… Creevey's been attacked. "

"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Ace edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that. "He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Portgas's been hiding? With that cursed blood he has… "

Ace ducked his head, just as a figure passed by.

"Come on if you have nothing else to do but gossip, get to study and take advantage of time"

Behind the bookcase, Ace looked up to find from his hiding place Cedric repressing his companions, in an attempt to subtly defend him. Once the boys returned to their studies, Cedric turned and went back where he had come from, which was right where Ace was.

At some point, Ace had leaned against the shelf, unable to do anything else, and only moved when Cedric took him by the shoulder and pulled him from there, to another point in the library.

"You're ok, Ace?" asked Cedric releasing the boy.

"Yes"

"You don't look quite right"

The pirate said nothing.

"Don't listen to them, they don't know you, they don't know what they say," the pirate didn't answer, even when he released him and left him standing in front of him. "Listen, you've never cared what they say about you, don't start now." And in support, Cedric placed his hand on his shoulder. "If you need help just tell me. And if it's any use, I don't think you're the heir, or bad in any case. "

Even so, he received no response.

"Ok, I have to go back to class, I just came for a book they asked for" and with that he turned around.

Ace stayed at that same point for several minutes.

He felt anger, he wanted to hit something, whatever it was, and without more to do Ace began to return to the tower, he have stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. Maybe he should skip Transfiguration, maybe he should go to the forest, run a while would do well, maybe fight for a while with some troll. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

Ace got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

He could run, and no one would ever know he had been there. But he was unable to move, in the midst of all that gloom, it reminded him of the last time he had found a body, cold, inert and motionless, in a place that was safe. And that had been his fault.

As he stood there, panicking, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why, it's potty wee Portgas!" cackled Peeves, "What's Portgis up to? Why's Portgis lurking…"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

It seemed that hundreds of doors opened at the same time, where students and teachers left their classrooms forgetting the classes. And there, in the middle of everything was Ace, still stunned by the memory and intoxicated by the sound of hundreds of voices that echoed in his head.

Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Ace.

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:

"Oh, Ace, you rotter, oh, what have you done,

You're killing off students, you think it's good fun —"

"That's enough, Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Ace.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Ace and Professor McGonagall alone together.

"Ace," said the woman in a murmur, as she placed her hand on his shoulder "come with me"

Ace in resignation, only began to move forward, following without much interest to the professor, while, surrounded by the stone walls and the dull light his mind still affected by so many emotions, so many remembrances, Ace was unable to distinguish between the present and the past, He felt dizzy, confused, and suddenly stopped.

When she felt him stop, Professor McGonagall did so, never in her life had she felt so distressed in her life.

"Ace," the woman murmured. "I know I wasn't you, but this is out of my hands."

"I know, duty call"

-.-

If someone later asked him how he got to that room, physically speaking, Ace would say he had no idea. He had been guided to that place, and subsequently left there, with only a squeeze on his shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up.

He didn't need someone to tell him where he was, something in such a peculiar place told him that he must be in Dumbledore's office, maybe it was all the curious objects, or maybe the huge hat that lay in a corner. A strangers, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.

He wasn't alone after all.

But it wasn't someone human, standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Ace smiled, completely excited, he knew what that turkey was, he had seen a pineapple head a hundred times become a turkey. But it was the first time he saw a real Phoenix, and so closely.

He was smaller than Marco was, and red and gold unlike the blue and gold he used to see in his brother, he also looked sick, weak; Weren't the phoenix the very image of immortality?, this bird, that Ace saw, didn't show that while making those gagging noise again.

Leaning his hands on the perch, Ace watched as those dull eyes watched him, while a couple more feathers fell out of his tail. Tentatively, he brought his hand to the bird, stopping just a little like asking permission to continue, and in response the sickly phoenix let his head down to the child's hand.

"What's wrong with you?" Ace asked, "You don't look very good" and just then the bird burst into flames.

Ace did not flinch, nor did he withdraw his hand, he knew that the phoenix burned in flames, but not with so much fire, if he remembered well; the bird, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek, which was what made Ace move away, and at the next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

Ace did not flinch, he simply watched the mound of ashes on the ground with attention, in complete fascination, waiting, searching to see something among all those ashes, but not wanting to touch them, scare to interfere on something from happening.

"About time" Dumbledore said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

Ace gave him a fleeting glance, before returning his sight to the mound of ashes.

"Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him . . ."

Just then, tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one, but anyway, seeing him Ace got excited.

"His name is Fawkes," the man added, as the boy swelled closer to the bird. "It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

Ace was paying attention to him, his desire to learn more from this bird could more than his dislike of this man.

With his hand he had again asked permission to touch the bird, and the bird had agreed to bring his head close to the child's hand, before being removed from the ashes by two small hands.

Dumbledore looked closely at the boy, he never thought that Fawkes was going to get the boy's attention, perhaps in his adult stage, but not in his weakest forms, such as being a baby, or about to burn. But there he was, Ace holding the little phoenix in his hands as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

He looked calm, completely calm, and maybe, just maybe...

... concentrating, the man made an effort, focusing on the child and penetrating his mind, he found it easy to enter, but he should not trust himself, he must carefully, test that mind that had so often expelled him with force if he wanted to find something.

The first image was a memory, it was the image of a man, with tanned skin, sleepy look and blond hair, his wardrobe was not muggle, but not of a wizard, behind him a curious wooden construction, that, he did not distinguish what it was was, raised, while the evening light illuminated it.

Who was this man? The old wizard wondered.

And feeling a little, he looked for one more memory, or some image.

This new image had a sunny day, and in front of him, several people stood up, he saw the blond man, in front of everyone, multiple men older than Ace, perhaps ten years or more older, all of them had a strange appearance, all smiling with some appreciation at the boy.

When did this happen? Surely in the year Ace was missing, how long did he live with these people? Surely enough. Why weren't they with Ace when Hagrid found him? And as if answering the question, a memory formed.

This was dark, surely at night, in the middle of a storm. And before him only one image was developed, in front of him, illuminated by a lightning bolt, a man, who recognized by clothing in the previous memory, was lying on the ground an immense pool of blood surrounding to him.

A knock echoed along with a thunder in the memory, and both occupants of the room looked up at the door, Professor McGonagall entered, followed by Cedric Diggory.

"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Diggory here wishes to testify on behalf of Ace" said the Professor.

"It wasn't Ace, Professor Dumbledore!" Said Cedric urgently. "I was talking him seconds before Justin Finch-Fletchley was found, he never had time, sir -"

"Thank you, Mr. Diggory" said Dumbledore. "I do not think that Ace attacked those people."

"You don't?" Said the three people who were in the room.

"No"

"Oh," said Cedric. "Good."

"I'll wait outside then, Headmaster." McGonagall said

And they stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Ace repeated hopefully.

"No, Ace, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you."

Ace waited nervously while Dumbledore considered him, the tips of his long fingers together.

"I must ask you, Ace, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

Ace didn't know what to say. He thought of Malfoy shouting, "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" and of the Polyjuice Potion simmering away. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Ron had said: "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow connected with Salazar Slytherin. . . .

"No," said Ace. "There isn't anything. . . Then professor, if there is nothing else that requires me, I most retire" and with that he turned around.

"Before you go," said the professor, "I would like to remind you that it is my bird that you have in your arms."