AN: Sorry for the late update! Things are a bit hectic for me right now, as you might have guessed. Nobody can run from real life, it seems.
Anyway, I've received a bunch of comments about the Sorting Hat's comment in the previous chapter about the average Hogwarts graduate being as skilled as the Founding Four.
Listen, firstly, I can see where you are coming from. The allure of mysteries hidden in history, the romanticism of lost powers and magic, is strong. But, that's not how things are done in the real world. No knowledge is lost.
Don't believe me? Alright, here's an analogy.
Sir Isaac Newton vs the average Joe, science battle. This can be compared to a Founding member vs the average Hogwarts student. First off, the average Joe would know much more about Newton in the fields of Chemistry and Biology, so let's not even consider that. In Mathematics and Physics, the two fields Newton was actually good at, he holds a slight edge. He would know more in calculus, while they hold the same knowledge in conventional mathematics, seeing as it hasn't developed too much in the time gap. On the other hand, in Physics, Newton knows more about Newtonian mechanics and gravitation. In quantum mechanics, nuclear physics, electricity and optics, the average Joe would win. And this is only with a 500-year gap, not a two-thousand-year gap as between the Founders and present Hogwarts.
Do you see what I mean now?
Anyway, let's not dilly dally further, and get to the chapter.
Time: Summer between Rose's First and Second Years
Nymphadora 'don't-call-me-that' Tonks hadn't planned for it the first time it happened.
Well, she hadn't planned for it the second time, either, but you get the idea.
At this point, you already might have guessed what she was talking about.
Yeah. It happened during the summer.
She had had a tough day, and was looking forward to spending the night alone, doing whatever in the comfort of her own house, well, her parents' house, which she had free rein over, seeing as her father had taken her uptight mother for a romantic date, if only to give her some time alone, with a note that they wouldn't return till the following morning.
Not that she cared what they were getting up to. No, that was just, ew.
Anyway, her mother had, of course, warned her Merlin knows how many times about responsibility, which, basically meant that she had to be the good girl and not do anything untoward such as inviting friends over, or drink the alcohol that her mother had in the kitchen cabinet, locked away with a Black family charm, despite her being of legal age.
Legal age didn't matter now, did it? Especially thanks to the ahem, imaginary alcohol smuggling business the Weasley twins had. Tonks didn't have any idea how they did it, but she didn't complain if a few galleons somehow went missing from her pocket, or a bottle magically turned up in her hand. Well, Hogwarts was a castle for magic, anything could happen.
The warnings and fears her mother had were unjustified, null and void. Period. Especially seeing as Tonks had zero social life, not by choice of course. Between her Metamorphagi abilities that she was a teeny tiny bit sensitive about, no thanks to her teenage hormones intensifying everything, and the rigorous self-imposed study schedule for her dream job in the Auror department under Old Mad-Eye himself, she had little time for friends. As for worrying about alcohol consumption... well, despite her being a Hufflepuff, Moody kept telling her that she would have made a damn fine Slytherin.
And if there was one saying that Slytherins cherished above all else, except maybe blood purity or something similar, was that 'What they don't know, can't hurt them.'
Which meant, of course, she had her own stash of alcohol hidden away underneath her bed with the much superior Auror trademarked charm the ever paranoid Mad-Eye had taught her to hide important, possibly life-saving, things... well, unofficially taught her, of course, seeing as she had just completed her sixth year.
And, Tonks reasoned, alcohol was definitely a lifesaver, used as antiseptic and the like in case of injuries, who knows when the kitchen knife might slip from her hands while cutting salad and end up fatally wounding her... the mental euphoria of ingesting the dilute ethanol (Yes, Secondary Potions, taught by the much esteemed and popular, note the sarcasm, Professor 'Greasy-as-fuck-us' Snape covered Muggle Chemistry as well... as if they weren't fucked up enough as it were) was just an unintended, though not unwelcome, side effect.
Tonks yawned, blinking her bleary eyes to get rid of the sleepiness clouding her senses, as her feet mechanically carried her across the well-kept, grassy lawn towards her home, her jumbled, wandering thoughts swirling about in her head as she tried to lug her bag full of paperwork along, too tired to even wave at the Muggle neighbour's kids playing football on the street behind her.
She might have been envious of the boundless energy the three kids possessed, that allowed them to be so active even during this god-forsaken day.
She stood on the porch for a few moments, watching them play. One of the boys, the oldest of the three siblings, did what seemed like a cool trick with his feet, feinting towards one way with his body before tapping the ball in the other way, effortlessly soaring past his stunned younger brother, dribbling towards the imaginary goal where their sister was standing, her knees bent, with a cute look of determination on her childish face. The move reminded her of the one Moody was so fond of when duelling, feinting with his body before sending a spell to her other side.
The goal was scored, not that anyone, even the three players themselves, cared, and the oldest one ran back to his half with a smile on his face, waving cheerfully at the cool older girl, who he might have had an innocent crush on.
Tonks smiled weakly at him, struggling to keep her Metamorphagi abilities in check, and not turn her pink hair.
Man, was she glad the day was over.
First, she had to wake up early in the morning, cursing her clumsiness at least twenty-six times as she went through her morning rituals, endure half an hour of her mother's ceaseless lecture at breakfast before she raced off to the Floo, trying to get to the Auror offices, where she was interning for the summer, on time.
Then, of course, Mad-Eye had run her ragged for three full hours, despite her complaints, making her want to kiss the messenger who had come to call away Moody for a meeting. She had hardly had thirty minutes of rest, before Moody had dumped a metric fuckton of paperwork in her arms before disappearing, all in order to 'train her for future work'.
If there was one thing Moody agreed with Tonks on, it was that paperwork was the devil's handiwork. The only downside to Auror business was the volumes of paperwork that accompanied it, and of course, Moody would shove it all on Tonks when he could.
And then, she had made the fatal mistake of falling asleep on the job. Which meant none of her work was done, and the Floo chimneys had been closed by the time she woke up, with only a few Ministry stragglers and late workers around. Which meant that she had to take the Muggle bus home, not being too confident in her rudimentary Apparition skills.
All this was discounting the dreadful, humid heat that made the day nigh unbearable, and the judgemental stares she got for her bright and boyishly spiky, bubblegum pink hair.
Yeah, her day could have gone better.
Sighing softly as she stared at the dark sky, with only the vestiges of blood-red on the western horizon, she wished desperately for a cool summer breeze, maybe the assuring thunder that promised a sweet summer thunderstorm. All that she was met with was the loud honking of a car as it waited for the three kids to get off the road, before zooming past, blowing dust in the air, which made her cough. The trees were dull and limp, giving the day a listless tinge as their leaves remained still, not a bird singing. Their leaves were a dull shade of green, laden thick with dust, thirsty for water.
They would have to go thirsty today. Tonks was not in the mood for watering the plants today, not without her mother shouting over her shoulder.
Today, she would relax.
She opened the door, slamming it shut behind her before casting a simple, wandless locking charm behind her, one of the very few that she could cast wandlessly.
She kicked her shoes off, kicking them to the side messily as she trudged further in, seeking a glass of water.
Her heavy bag was thrown by her practised hand, landing in the same spot on the couch as it did every day as she turned towards the other side, heading for the kitchen for a cool drink straight out of the fridge.
"Tough day today?" A soothing, soft and masculine voice called out from beside her, making her groan.
"You have no idea." Taking out the bottle of iced tea she had in the fridge, she slammed the refrigerator shut, before lifting the bottle to her lips to take a big swig, letting out a satisfied sigh as a lazy smile tugged at her lips.
She leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen as she eyed the teenager, almost a man, leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of tea and a plate in his black, silk-gloved hands, rendering him a very refined look.
He smiled at her, a beautiful upturn of his lips that made her feel weak in the knees, as he raised his cup of steaming tea to his lips as he took a sip.
Tonks did not reply, merely content to let her eyes roam over his body, accentuated by the tight-fitting black shirt that he wore, the sleeves effortlessly rolled up to his elbows in an effortless swagger that only made him more appealing, showing off his strong forearms that looked like they could manhandle her in every way he wished, sending sinful tingles of arousal through her body.
She watched as he closed his eyes, enjoying his tea as he leaned against the counter, with all the confidence as if it was his home and she was a guest.
He was dressed in all black, something which struck a chord in her, as black was one of her favourite colours, the goth style being quite appealing to her on some days. Heavy-looking, steel-soled combat boots led to black skinny jeans that clung to his legs. A silver-studded black leather belt hung loosely around his waist, his tight shirt almost threatening to burst with his well-toned muscles, not hiding anything from her wandering gaze, his broad chest and muscular arms inviting. A black band was wrapped around his wrist, contrasting his pale skin tone, not as pale as the Malfoys, but only to the extent it looked unbelievably sexy, simple black bands as rings on his fingers. All in all, he looked like a sinful angel fallen from heaven with his wings cut.
His emerald eyes blazing with a dangerous fire that only added to his thrill, his beautiful ruby lips that looked like the most delicious snack Tonks had ever laid her eyes upon, inviting her to feast upon his lips. His long, silky black hair put up in a messy man bun, the unconventional hairstyle winning bonus points with her.
A smile played at Tonks's lips as she shamelessly enjoyed her eye candy, not bothering to hide the dark shade of blue her hair and eyes had turned into, that betrayed the arousal she was feeling. She again raised the cold bottle of iced tea to her lips, before her slow, clogged brain managed to register everything.
Immediately she was on guard, her wand sliding to her hand as she pointed it at his face, the tip glowing dangerously with the worst spells she knew.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my home?!" She demanded, the half-empty bottle of iced tea crushed in her grip before she decided to keep it on the table she was leaning against, focusing entirely on the unnamed stranger in her house and the ready wand in her hand.
He smiled softly at her, almost mocking at her slow recognition. She could almost feel him struggling to contain his laughter. "You sure you want to be an Auror? I think you would be more suited to the occupation of a professional Alzheimer's patient."
Damn, that was harsh.
And just like that, all of the fantasies she had been secretly weaving in the back of her head, starring this stranger in front of her, dissolved into mist.
The slurping sound of him noisily taking another sip from his tea broke the tense silence that swam between them.
"Who do you think I am?" He asked, looking away from her and offering her his unprotected back, as he kept his white cup of tea on the kitchen counter.
Tonks had all the opportunity in the world to stun him. But something held her back. Whether it was the fairness of her Hufflepuff side that refused to curse anyone in the back, or the knowledge from her Auror training that this was probably a trap.
A slow, clapping noise broke her out of her trance, like a sort of deathly aura that seemed to captivate her.
"Bravo, Nymphadora Tonks." The stranger clapped, "Perhaps you aren't as bad as you initially seemed to be. Clumsy as fuck, with no real skill. Not that good at her studies or curricular activities either. Barely managed to scrape into the Auror training program. There had to be something to make Mad-Eye Moody himself want to take you in as an intern... beyond your Metamorphagi abilities, of course. And I think I can see why that is... Auror Tonks."
The way he said it sent a thrill down her spine. She tried to ignore all the hurtful words he said, or the blooming attraction she felt towards him despite all the insults, concentrating on the compliment.
"Who are you?" She repeated her question, trying to distract him as she inched backwards. If only she could reach the front door, or even the Floo. "Why do you know my name?"
He turned towards her, his raven locks swaying with the elegant movement, like a cobra spreading its hood.
"Who am I?" He spread his arms grandly, "Why, I should think you should have figured it out by now. Stranger. Knows your name. Sneaks into your well-warded house without anyone being the wiser. Someone smart enough to block the Floo and cast anti-apparition and Portkey charms on the house. Oh, and someone who has also locked the front door with a nice locking charm."
She gulped, steeling herself. Her hair had turned grey, revealing her nervousness. Cool beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, making her slightly tanned skin glisten.
Looking slightly ticked at her silence, he raised his fingers in front of her, wiggling them. "Does this... ring any bell?"
Her eyes flicked to his fingers, and like a stone had been dropped in her stomach, her entire body turned white. Literally. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her throat, her eyes flicking nervously back to his devilish emerald, toxic like the shade of the killing curse.
Suddenly, her wand, glowing in front of her, didn't feel so comforting. It was like waving a twig in front of a Colossus. Slowly, the light faded, all her thoughts turning to mush as she stumbled on her own two feet and tumbled to the cold floor. Her thoughts and all semblance of coherence fled her, as she recognised the rings, all identical to the one Moody had shown her a picture of.
"The Stalker." She didn't know how she managed not to stutter.
He raised an eyebrow at her dramatic reaction. "I'm not going to hurt you... well, not in the foreseeable future, anyway." He walked forward to her, squatting on the floor so that he could violate the girl's private space and creep her out as he shoved his face right in front of her, unable to help the grin that tugged at his lips as he allowed the little disguising charm he had worn for the occasion fade away.
Nymphadora looked like she was about to scream. Her voice was strangled and choked, though, no sound coming from her lips, parted in terror.
"Wh-why are you here?" She stuttered horribly, wrestling control over her bladder as she stared at what could only be described as the face of death. Alluring and beautiful, but the grin sick and twisted, the eyes cruel and sadistic.
Her eyes were fixated on his right one, her own eyes unconsciously changing to reflect the black and red that had Harry grinning. "Honestly, I don't know. I think I want to make an impression on the Ministry and especially Moody... the English are taking me a bit too casually, I feel. So, you are going to send a message."
Seeing her pale even further, he hastened to correct his statement. "No, I mean, you only have to give Madam Bones a message for me. See?"
He patted his pockets for a moment, before emerging with a letter. Expensive, fine parchment that looked like silk, the evaporated with another fancy wiggle of his fingers.
"Other than that, I don't really have any need for you. Hmm... today is Friday, to be fair, and I don't have anywhere else to spend the evening. It gets lonely, you know, when you are a wanted serial killer on the run."
She paled even further, her mind jumping to the worst conclusions and making Harry laugh.
"Nah, rape is not really my style. I might watch a few movies, maybe grab a drink and crash on the couch before I take my leave." Well, it wasn't really rape if they enjoyed it, he added mentally, before his smile turned predatory. "Unless you have something to add... I really hope you are comfortable with me sleeping on your couch, aren't you?"
He smiled sickly sweet, making her nod feverishly, desperate to try and keep herself alive.
He was deranged.
Tonks watched him lazily stroll back to the living room, silently beckoning her towards him, and making her scramble to her feet in a desperate effort to... satisfy him? No, save herself.
He was arrogant enough to let her keep her wand, but the Auror knew, even if Mad-Eye and half of the Auror department had been here, they would have been as good as dead, well, if he felt like it. Everything now depended on his flimsy whims, making her feel like she was walking on eggshells. Talk about taking risks. If she managed to live through this, she could proudly add playing rodeo with the Stalker himself on her CV.
As she scrambled towards him, her eyes fell on the white China cup and plate, taken from a collection that her mother was so fond of, that he had been drinking from.
Forgotten droplets of a thick fluid congregated at the bottom of the cup, not quite the tea that she had initially assumed, a dark shade of crimson.
Tonks felt sick to the stomach as she recognised it quite well from her Auror training lessons.
Was he a vampire? Or was he just a plain deranged psychopath?
Tonks had a decision to make.
If it hadn't been for the knowledge that he was the Stalker, not anyone, but THE Stalker, killer of hundreds, she might have loved the evening she had spent with her mostly silent companion. She loved the evening to the point that it might have been one of the most memorable she had ever spent.
But all of it was accompanied by the continuous consciousness that this man was a serial killer. No matter how well he treated her or how good he looked, he had killed several hundreds of innocent people, and Tonks was an aspiring Auror.
They were currently making their way through the cool streets of some small town in Switzerland, that Harry, or so he had told her to call him, called Nowheresville.
She felt like snorting, but kept it in. Nowheresville.
Yeah, real original name, right there.
As if her well-justified nervousness and jitters weren't enough, he had told her to dress up nice, that they were going for a walk.
And then, he had apparated her off here. Hundreds of miles away from her home, in the blink of an eye, across countries like it was nothing, as if he was boasting of his own power.
Surprisingly, he had treated her to a nice dinner at a little restaurant just down the street, and now, they were taking a nice walk in the cool, fresh Swiss Air before they had to return back to England.
Well, at least that was what he envisioned, and Tonks had to play along out of fear for her own life. Every step out of line meant possible death.
The two walked down the street in tense silence, though Harry didn't seem to care, at least going by the gentle beginnings of a genuine smile on his face. He was still wearing the thin shirt and gloves he had been wearing, as if the slight chill didn't even affect him in the slightest.
His arm was wrapped around her waist possessively, clutching her to his side almost too tightly as the two walked down the street, seemingly invisible to the Muggles milling around them.
Like, this six-foot-something dude, dressed in all black, literally had an eyepatch and the looks of a god, how couldn't that attract attention?
But nooo, they were left alone.
So, Tonks was torn between trying to resist his... perhaps comfortable hold, and put her hands on his deliciously muscled chest to push him away, or give in to the vixen inside of her and throw away all her dignity and self-esteem to burrow into his side for warmth and comfort.
Maybe she could even check out all the sexy-looking tattoos she could glimpse peeking out from underneath his clothes.
No, bad Tonks! This was the Stalker she was talking about.
Despite the raging tempest of emotions warring inside her, eventually, she chose the latter, her willpower crumbling like dust as she leaned her head on his shoulder, as of she had been cursed, her pink hair standing out sharply against all his black.
"Hmm?" His deep voice sent forbidden sensations through her body as she felt his chest rumble, as his hand wrapped around her slim waist, comforting.
"I'm scared." She admitted.
Fuck it. If she had to die, she would rather die sooner as an independent witch rather than later as prey.
She was getting tired of pretending that she was fine, or it was just the effect he had on her, that made all her emotions overflow in a mess, to reveal herself to him, vulnerable and naked.
She didn't want to trudge on eggshells anymore. It might be the impulsive Gryffindor inside her that made her want to confront him, but Tonks could not keep pretending like everything was alright.
"And why is that?" His voice was soft, seemingly everything he did was so soft and gentle, slow and rumbling, like she was a delicate flower that might break at a touch, and not the tough Auror intern. And Tonks was thankful for that.
It made everything seem so surreal, like she was on an intoxicated high, like the world had lied to her. There was no way Harry could be so dangerous.
"Harry..." She clutched at his black shirt as she hid her face in his chest, trying to conceal the terrified sobs threatening to break free from her throat. The two came to a grinding halt, just standing there in the middle of the Swiss street, all the Muggles not noticing them, just weaving around them like they weren't even there.
"Is... is this real? Why are you doing this to me?" She demanded, though her voice was not as strong as she would like. It wavered, as weak as her knees when he wrapped his strong arms around her waist to hug her fully, inviting her into his warm comfort. She only buried her face into her chest, listening to his heartbeat and enjoying his muscles, relishing in the feeling of protection that he exuded. "You are a... are a... You do not even know me... It doesn't make any sense... Is this... do you do this to your... you know...?"
"No, Nymphadora." The way he said her accursed first name sent an unwitting thrill down her spine. "This is a first for me, too... And it doesn't make much sense, the world doesn't... I don't have to make sense, now, do I?"
He stopped for a moment, almost hesitating on his next words.
"I-I thought you would understand... You're a Metamorphagus." Hardly had the words left his mouth, then Tonks pushed him away.
"And how's that supposed to matter, huh?!" She snapped at him, standing in front of him with her fists balled at her sides, her pink hair turning to a deep scarlet that reflected her anger. She forgot who she was talking to, the confusing, raging emotions, the few glasses of alcohol she had consumed during dinner, and his continuous goading coming to a head as she confronted him, the barrel of gunpowder ignited by the word she loathed above all else, that kept reminding her that she could never be normal. Providing her with a stupid, Gryffindorish bravery to have herself heard, damn the consequences.
"You're like me. I thought you would understand how I felt on a daily basis." As soon as it had come, whatever little vulnerability Harry had shown, evaporated. He had hoped that it wouldn't come to this, but he was a firm Murphy's Law, so he had a number of backup plans, and backup plans for the backup plans. "I thought you would understand how it feels to question your very existence every day. What are you, Tonks? What do you think you are?"
The question might have come off as rude, but he knew she could understand what he truly meant.
"I'm... I'm a witch. I'm a sixth-year Hogwarts student, nineteen years old, and I'm an intern Auror under Mad-Eye Moody." She responded confidently, met with his cold, unflinching gaze. For some reason, it put her on edge, completely going against the gentle personality he had portrayed her throughout the evening. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead despite the cool air, her hair standing on end, quite literally, as she caught a glimpse of the murderer feared by the entire world, both Muggle and Magical. "I... I'm human."
"Are you?" His voice held contempt as he stepped towards her aggressively, his lips curled into a feral snarl. She could see him lean forward slightly, the bare beginnings of a full crouch, to protect his vulnerable stomach, an animalistic fighting position often seen in feral werewolves. "And being human instantly makes you better than us?"
"You're a monster." She whispered harshly, letting her wand slide into her hand, though it would matter little if he did choose to attack her.
"Does that wand you wield somehow make you better? Do you think you're human?" He laughed, his voice becoming harsher and more gravelly with every word he spoke, like a blade scraping against stone. "Well, you aren't. You are a monster as well. You are like me. A monster clad in human skin. It's different that you try to act human and be all high and mighty, waving a wand and pretending to control the world. Do you think any human would want your ability?"
He full-out laughed at her, ignoring the tears brimming in her eyes or the way her normally upbeat, pink spiky hair fell limp and grey on her shoulders. "Have you never had an existential crisis? Have you never looked at your own mother and thought that you are not the same? Have you never looked at your friend and thought that you're wearing a disguise to hide yourselves from them? They are not real friends, Tonks. Humans do not care for anything but themselves. Embrace your animalistic nature. It's what makes you special! Unique. Difference need not always be a bad thing."
She fell to the ground on her butt, tears streaming down her cheeks as she vehemently shook her head, locked in denial. "No, no, you're wrong... I'm not an animal. I'm... I'm human... Please, no."
He stalked towards her, his footsteps sharp against the silence of the world that had suddenly become so apparent, despite all the Muggles milling around the two of them.
Tonks watched his steel-soled boots stop right in front of her, too tired to look up towards him. His boots were squeaky clean, almost unnaturally so, to the point she could see her reflection on the steel. However, she could still almost feel, almost see the blood and gore it waded in, more often than not. Her tears dripped to the dry pavement below, creating small dark spots in the grey concrete.
"Look." Harry sighed, sounding tired all of a sudden. "I understand how you feel. I felt the same way when I initially came to the realisation that I could never be the perfect little human we envision. Trust me, it is better this way. Humans are the worst creatures in the world. Who do you think has a higher kill count, me or the perfect little humans? If you take into consideration every life lost? You could be so much more, Tonks. But your hopes and dreams to continue in this little bubble society has made for you prevents you from seeing the bigger picture. All your decisions are being taken by others, you have no real power or independence of your own. Knowing this, tell me, are you truly human? You can be the sheep, or the wolf. Eat or be eaten. Kill or be killed. It is the law of nature. The law of nature. The Law of Club and Fang."
He squatted down to where she was doubled over, breathing heavily on the ground, allowing his hands to weave through her soft, silky hair in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He must have been doing something right, though, as she leaned into his touch.
"...you sound like Moody."
"Another reason why I chose you. You are already Moody's student. I love the guy. He can see things the way they are. He knows that there are only two types of lives in this world. The sheep, who refuse to wander beyond their little pasture. And the wolves, who roam the entire world, inspire fear among the other creatures, and do what they want. You can be a wolf, Tonks. Take power and mould the world as you see fit. Like Moody, Dumbledore, Voldemort... me."
Harry took a deep breath, letting her mull over his words for a moment as he looked up towards the clear, starless sky to take a moment and admire the open night that he so relished in.
"How... how do I do that? What do I need to do?"
"The first step? Stop thinking of yourself as human. Stop associating emotions and values with every little thing. Stop looking at individuals, and start looking at the bigger picture. I can help you along the path, though I do not think you need it. I can teach you to harness your Metamorphagi powers, to teach you to sharpen your claws and fangs. Follow Moody, he sees the same things I see in you. The ability to be someone great."
"Why... why are you doing this?" She looked up at him, her mesmerizing violet eyes red and watery as they looked up at him. Tears still streamed down her cheeks, but they were drying up eventually. Tonks refused to dry them, opting instead not to break eye contact in a little show of her own strength, that made Harry smile.
"I... I can be your friend, Tonks. Maybe it can be our little secret. As to why I am doing this... call it my vision of the world."
"And what is your vision of the world?" She questioned, quickly scrambling up to her feet as she gave her wand a little flick to clean her messy face up. Her hair was slowly turning back to its usual, vibrant bubblegum pink, making Harry smile.
He stood back up to face her, noticing how she only reached till his shoulders, despite being two years older. He stretched his arms grandly, looking up to the sky to admire the inky blackness that never failed to soothe him. "My vision of the world... I guess it is just a world where everyone can what they want. A dystopian world not bound by human laws, where the only law is the Law of Club and Fang, where I do not have to hide anymore, where I can walk around without this eyepatch. Even if it means that I will die at the whim of someone more powerful than me... That is why I intend to become the strongest." He looked down to meet her eyes, a determined fire blazing in the single emerald eye that he displayed. "And the first step to achieving my vision of the world is to create leaders who are willing to defy."
Tonks smiled at him, a beautiful, genuine smile that made him growl in his throat, a hunger stirring in the depths of his soul. A hunger not to devour, but to own.
She stepped closer to him, having to look up to meet his eye, "If it is so, then why do you yourself hide behind this eyepatch?"
And she playfully tugged at the black cord holding his eyepatch up, pulling it up and into her hand, putting Harry's glowing right eye on full display, the red iris like a blood moon against the black sclera of his eye.
For his part, Harry did not complain about being able to check her body out with both his eyes. Her messy hairstyle, her beautiful, heart-shaped face, and beautiful cupid lips. Her bountiful, firm breasts straining against the simple white shirt she wore. How boyish and independent she looked, in her brown leather jacket. Her skinny jeans that hugged her beautiful legs, her slim waist that seemed to be made for his hands to hold on to, the fluid way her childbearing hips moved.
He did not know whether she purposefully changed her body to something sexy and almost out of this world, but he could not be caught complaining even if his life depended on it. Her Metamorphagus powers were as much a part of her as her magic was, and this was the first step to mastering it- acceptance.
Harry glanced up, seeing her coy smile and her mesmerizing violet eyes. The slight pink tinge colouring her cheeks, whether from the alcohol or something else, he couldn't say.
His breath hitched as she leaned closer, her soft, full lips coming closer to his own.
Despite all the hungry kisses he had shared, this was probably the first one with somebody he might come to care about.
"Harry." She whispered breathily.
"Somnus." He whispered back, watching her eyes widen, a momentary, futile struggle ensuing against the sleeping spell that caught hold of her entire being, before her eyelids drooped, and her body wordlessly went limp, letting her fall straight into his waiting arms. His eyepatch dropped to the pavement from her loose grip, needing a wandless, silent summoning charm to return to his pocket.
Sighing softly, Harry apparated back to the Tonks residence with Nymphadora in his arms.
Having tucked her in, he stood over her sleeping form, watching for a bit despite the knowledge that it was something regarded as creepy.
He couldn't really teach her how to control her Metamorphagus powers, but she should be fine on her own. Everyone knows how to breathe, the moment she regards it as part of her own body, she will, hopefully, be able to exercise proper control over her own abilities.
Hmm.
Harry stood for a few minutes longer, looming over her bed like a sleep paralysis demon, watching her peaceful, sleeping face, her chest rising and falling every time she breathed.
He hoped she might forgive him for sending her to sleep in the clothes she wore to their dinner.
Tonks had a prominent role to play in the drama that was going to unfold in his life and Magical England at large, Harry pondered for a brief moment, before shaking his head.
He would see that when the time came.
As for what he could do now, he pulled out a wand he had picked off another of his victims, before waving it in an intricate pattern, forcing the obstinate wand to his will. He could cast it wandlessly, but he wasn't taking any chances.
Having cast a complex web of memory blocks on her that would make her blank out every time she tried to recollect the memories of this evening to anyone else, in verbal, mental, magical or physical forms, he smiled in contentment, before leaning down to kiss her forehead softly, leaving a moist imprint on her caramel skin.
He turned to the desk, placing the envelope addressed to a certain Madam Bones on it and weighing it down with a little Hogsmeade paperweight he found on the desk, before he turned to the window, throwing it open and relishing in the night, despite its uncomfortable humidity.
He stood there for a few moments longer in silence, Tonks' steady breathing the only sounds that filled the room, before he retracted his tentacles that had been spread out all over the house, searching for any shred of evidence that he might have overlooked.
They returned empty-handed, much to his satisfaction, crawling with sinister, repulsive sounds of twisting flesh and magic, writhing masses of ethereal magic that belonged more on a Lovecraftian horror than anything even remotely human, before withdrawing into his back at a mental command, akin to withdrawing an arm searching for something. Of course, not before they turned off all the lights on the house, checked that all the doors and windows were locked, and locked Tonks' bedroom door behind them as well.
Harry might be evil, but he was not that evil.
He climbed out of the window, before locking it behind him with a simple, wandless locking charm, before he jumped off, executing a little barrel roll as he hit the road, having cleared the little lawn entirely with his jump.
He straightened, looking around him and not being met with any signs of life on the deserted road.
Smiling to himself, he waved his hand once, the clothes he wore to visit Tonks being replaced by his usual hunting attire.
He did not need to hunt -he had food enough in his trunk to last him for a few months- and hunting Muggles was equal to hunting rats for him, but at that point, he just revelled in the feeling of killing somebody, the delicious, warm blood welling up like rubies... not that anybody needed to know, of course.
He looked around the little neighbourhood filled with quaint little houses, before deciding on a random one.
It was a simple matter to just apparate inside and gatecrash the small family's supper.
The silencing charm he had placed on the dining room was working quite well, he observed quite apathetically as he squeezed the father just a little bit tighter, enjoying his agonising screams.
He had tried to attack him with a kitchen knife in a brave, though foolish, attempt to protect his kids and wife. It had been a simple matter to bat aside his efforts and hoist him over the kitchen table with his tentacles wrapped around him like a suffocating, deadly straitjacket that only grew tighter with time.
His eyes wandered over to the four others standing in the corner of the room, the mother trying to protect her children by pushing them behind her in an attempt to hide them from his gaze.
He recognised the three kids. They were playing football earlier in the street, Tonks seemed to be quite fond of them. A pity, actually. He hoped she wouldn't be too angry.
Harry tilted his head, before reaching up to take off his mask, hearing their breath hitch as he tossed it aside.
If this had been a fanfic with a cliche author, the father would have been involved in something immoral, and Harry would have been the tragic vigilante who would try his best to comfort the mother and children.
As it was, this wasn't a story, and Harry was the worst sort of psychotic villain there was.
Deciding to play a little game, he lowered the father into a chair opposite him, casting a wandless charm to thoroughly bind and gag him.
"So." he twirled the kitchen knife he had been attacked with, before slashing the father's cheek open, letting blood drip down his cheek to stain his collar.
He heard a little gasp, and quiet sobs.
His head lolled on his shoulders, quite unnaturally, almost lifelessly, in the little quirky way he had, to fix the mother with a quiet, creepy stare, accompanied with a little sadistic grin.
"So, mother, won't you come here and attend to your guest?"
"Wh-What do you mean?" She stuttered horribly, trying to retain her composure, her children cowering behind her apparently the only thing keeping her from breaking down completely.
He grinned quite disturbingly wide, letting his eyes roam over her body, nothing to be proud of, especially after he had spent the evening with Nymphadora bloody Tonks. But she might have been above average in Muggle terms and mildly attractive, but anyway, he wasn't looking for her long-term, she would just suffice to help him get rid of the painful boner Tonks had left him with.
"I think you know quite well what I mean, woman." He brought his eyes back to her face, closing in on her face and grinning widely. "Get to work. The longer you can keep me entertained, the longer you get to keep your husband and children alive. Maybe you can even convince me to let them go."
Blushing heavily as she looked at her husband, then back at Harry's devilishly handsome face, she felt herself torn. Her husband was shaking her head violently from side to side, but she was doing it for her children... or so she tried to justify her decision.
"But my children are here..."
"No resistance? You're such a slut." Harry shook his head, laughing at her. "Yeah, right in front of your children. You have little shame as it is."
She blushed heavily, but refused to move.
"Get to work, woman!" Harry snarled harshly, raising a tentacle threateningly.
She immediately scrambled forward, kneeling between Harry's legs under the table as she fiddled with his belt buckle.
"Mother, what are you doing?" The eldest of the three siblings asked, tears streaming down his own face as she tried to replace his mother in an attempt to protect his two younger siblings.
"Your mother is trying to protect you," Harry told them, smiling as their faces turned ashen at being directly addressed by him, despite his statement. "Let's see what your father has to say, though."
"You monster! Let my wife go!" Then, to his wife, "What are you doing?!"
The gag was replaced.
"It seems your father has nothing constructive to add to our enlightening conversation," Harry commented, showing no visible reaction to the woman currently gagging and slobbering all over his cock. "Let's talk about something else. Little girl, which school do you go to?"
The girl, even more frightened than usual, burrowed into her elder brother's side in terror, as the protective elder sibling opened his mouth to reply.
He found himself unable to reply, mainly because of the missing top part of his head.
Blood sprayed all over the walls of the corner they were in, covering the other two siblings and making them scream out in terror.
"I wasn't talking to you, brat." Harry hissed.
The father was trying to scream his head off, angrily trying to get at Harry from his side of the table, but despite all the noise, the mother continued to lovingly nuzzle his cock, peppering it with soft kisses with more affection than she ever kissed her husband, entranced and intoxicated by Harry's dick.
He growled.
"I just wanted to have a fun time. But you people just had to fucking ruin it with your bad manners."
He growled again, aggressively snapping the fingers on his left hand in an attempt to stop himself from exploding in anger.
"Will you just shut up?!"
The father gurgled for one last time, the gag slowly soaking red with his blood as he was pinned against the wall, a thick tentacle going through his chest.
Harry looked to the other two remaining siblings, the girl and another boy, blood-covered and cowering at the corner of the room.
"You two just wait, okay? I'm coming to you after I'm done with your mother."
Then he put his hands on the woman's head, beginning to aggressively facefuck her beneath the dining table without any care about her wellbeing.
Fuck. The evening just went from heavenly to shitty.
At least he won't be going away from this shitty neighbourhood empty-handed. With five slaughtered under his belt, and another blooming member of his future inner circle walking her own path to power.
Hmm... perhaps this evening was productive, after all.
AN: Thoughts? Turned dark pretty quick, didn't it? Also, what do you think about Harry's new world vision?
Next chapter, Harry meets his family!
Keep calm and headbang!