Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not and never will be mine. Damn!
Warning: Story hasn't been betaed and English is not my first language.
This is a rather obvious self-insertion, and a Mary-Sue in an over-used plot. Don't like it, there is this magical button labeled 'BACK' on the top of the page.
A/N: I wanted a break from all my angst slash and yaoi stories, and I just can't resist the lure of Harry Potter anymore. So here is my first attempt at a HP fanfiction. I don't usually go for the heter pairings, but what hell, I thought that I should at least try the alternative once.
Italic = thoughts
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"Just let go." Ari said impatiently.
"No! NO! I don't want to die!" The man shouted back.
She rolled her eyes, and proceeded to ground her left heel into the fingers that were desperately holding onto the ledger board. The man gasped in pain, his round face contorted into a twisted parody of its former self, yet still he refused to loosen his grips.
Ari frowned. This job had turned out to be a lot more trouble than its worth. Who would know that her target was so pig-headed. Not to mention the man was surprisingly strong, considering he didn't seem the type to exercise much and his rather.... ahhmm.... large status.
She crouched down and reasoned in a softer tone, "it won't hurt that much. ....OK, it might hurt a little bit, but it'll be over in a few seconds."
The man shook his head furiously. Ari sighed, wondering why was it that she always ended up with the stubborn ones. She leaned her body outward slightly, peered down, and decided to encourage him with a few good kicks.
A heavy sense of nausea hit her before she could even catch the sight of the streets below. She recoiled back immediately, face paling. Ari didn't do height very well, and as rule, she generally avoided high places. She cursed inwardly; she would have preferred to just strangle her target in his office, but nooooo... someone just had to run. She titled her head back a little, letting the wind ruffle her hair and clear away some of the discomfort.
It was well pass midnight, but the city that never slept was still blooming with activities. From her view on the top of the office building, the miniature versions of cars and people blurred and crawled around like tiny insects.
She chuckled at the somewhat fitting comparison. Human, including herself, were nothing but mindless ants, trapped in this incomplete, flawed and superficial model of a world.
She looked down. The fat man was currently in the process of climbing up. He already had one of his arms flanged to the floor, shoulder heaving convulsively and gulping down mouthful of air. Ari sighed again and wiped out her custom made handgun. She liked to shoot things, but not people. She fancied herself a lot more creative than that, and as much as she hated to admit it, the smell of blood usually made her a little faint.
Mann.... did I ever choose the wrong profession.
The man's eyes widened; the small red bull's eye stood sharply in contrast against the pallor of his skin. Beads of sweat gathered on that sniveling face, sliding down with leisurely slowness and mingling with the tears leaking from those bloodshot eyes.
"NO!..... no, no.... please, don't..... no...."
He was begging incoherently now. Ari felt a small tingling of disappointment creeping on her.
"Nothing personal." She whispered almost to herself, and then pulled the trigger.
The gunshot resonated loudly into the sky, shattering the false peacefulness of the night. The man fell backward, face forever frozen in shock and fear. A burst of blood erupted from the hole on his forehead, adding red to the ranks of flashing colours from the neo-lighted city below.
She turned, tugged away her weapon and sauntered toward the exit on the roof.
A flare, resembled a bolt of lightening, exploded on the ground before her. She jumped back, one hand instinctively went for her gun, the other clenched in the beginning of a spell.
The light disappeared as if it was being sucked into a black hole, and the dust and the smoke dissipated quickly afterward.
A man was standing casually on the blackened concrete where the fire burnt through. Long red hair was woven into a braid, while slightly shorter fringes framed a youthful face. He was wearing ripped, baggy jeans and shirt, with a newspaper-print patterned bandanna covering the top half of his head.
Ari rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly; she could feel a headache breeding just beyond the outskirts of her consciousness. She contemplated, once again to no avail, about why the leader of the Crimson Order insisted on dressing like some kind of street rapper.
Said leader chirped loudly in ways of greeting, "Violet! My cute little apprentice! How have you been?"
"Peachy." She relaxed before inclined her head slightly in respect, "and..... isn't my code name Blue?"
For some reason, her hyper-active boss/teacher/father-figure, who seemed to be stuck in a permanent state of sugar high, took great pleasure in cooking up a new code name for her every week. Absent-mindedly, she pondered how long it would take for him to exhaust all the colours on the known spectrum.
"It didn't suit you, and who the hell came up such boring name anyway?"
"You did." She answered truthfully.
"Errr.... well, ahhh...." He smiled a little sheepishly, then changed the topic in a haste. "So how do you like my entrance?"
She remarked dryly, "it's beginning to drop on the originality scale."
"Yeah, well. If you can't think of something new, think of something flashier. And unlike some people, I do have a reputation to maintain."
She regarded him evenly, nonplused, "I am sure you do..... and to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"
He chuckled, deliberately ignoring the underlined sarcasm, "I have a job for you."
She groaned, resisting the urge to whine like a little kid, ".....what do you want me to do this time?"
"Something very important. But first, tell me.... how do you feel about England, and the discord between the pure-blood and the muggle-born wizards?"
"England is wet, and..... the animosity between the groups is pointless, it serves no useful purpose whatsoever." She stared at him thoughtfully before continued, "but who am I to judge?"
"I see.... so I take it that you have no preference regarding working for either?"
She paused, then ventured boldly, "I won't discriminate..... I don't mind killing them all."
"Wonderful!" He half cheered before declared happily, "I want you to protect someone."
"What..." Ari blinked, a little confused, then reminded him tentatively. "I am an assassin. I kill people, not.... protect them."
"Well, I always told you to broaden your horizon, didn't I?" He slapped her on the back, then started to lecture her in a rather patronizing tone, "beside, it's good to have different set of skills and experiences, you know. It does wonders for the resume and increase one's competitiveness in today's work force."
Her shoulders slumped. It was just useless to argue with her boss.
"Fine. When? Where? Who?"
"When would be now. Where is Hogwart. As for who.... you will find out soon enough."
He grinned wolfishly, and Ari shivered.
I have a bad feeling about this. A very, VERY bad feeling.
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Thanks for reading it.
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