by CrimsonNoble
A/N: I must admit I am overwhelmed by the response. My thanks. I would
also like to apologize to Sword of Darkness, I should not have done
that publicly. That should have been done in private, perhaps through
e-mail.
Disclaimer: I make no claims toward ownership of Harry Potter. I do,
however, claim ownership of Ange. 'Cause they're mine.
WARNING: This is rated R for a reason. Should you choose to ignore
said reason, read at your own risk. Masochism, sadism, sensuality,
graphic violence, and harsh language. Possible male/male
relationships, and definite female/female. Ye hast been warned. Should
any of the above be objectionable to you, there is a back button on
your browser, a convienient hyperlink back to the main Harry Potter
section of the site, and a simple right-click will reveal an option
for "back", if your computer works like mine. Can't help mac users
there.
Spoilers: OotP, GoF, PoA, CoS, SS.
Chapter 9:
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 1315, January 1.
Raye was, once again, perched inside the room. Unlike last time,
however, she was on the desk that headed the room. She had left the
tables inside the room, as obstacles.
"Right then. Everyone here?"
There was an uneasy silence as the students counted themselves, trying
to make sure that they were indeed all present.
They weren't. Raye already knew this, but she was trying to make an
example. Don't be late, and take care of your own, because no one else
is going to.
"No?" She asked as a general murmur of dissent arose.
"Well then. They will be our first participants when they arrive."
She leaned back, bracing herself on her hands, and whistling a
cheerful tune softly. She believed it was Malfoy and Weasley who
missing. Probably got into a fight then.
Ahh, yes. She'd forgotten to mention that.
It was a long five minutes, during which her students were growing
more and more restless. Another discipline to teach them. Patience.
Then the door creaked open slowly, and the two students edged in,
glaring daggers at each other. It was corny to say so, but if looks
could have killed, both of them would have been about thirty-six feet
under. Pity looks couldn't.
Well, Raye mused, I wonder if I could...
She broke off that train of thought, and looked serenely at the boys.
From the looks of great trepidation that the two had been sporting
moments ago, the relief in their eyes was rather amusing.
And then Raye smiled.
"Good of you to join us." She murmured, though everyone in the room
heard it. "I see you have sustained injuries. Have you sought medical
attention?"
The boys almost shared a glance before they realized what they were
about to do, and stopped themselves. Nevertheless, they answered in
unison, "No." Naturally they glared at each other, offended greatly
for no particular reason, and looked generally like they were about to
get into another fight.
Raye smiled nastily, sending an eerie chill down the central nervous
systems of those looking at her.
"Good, good, good. I forgot to mention that, you are forbidden from
seeking outside medical aid." She smiled widely at the astonished
looks. "Which means you had better start researching spells and
talking to each other, because you are going to be the only ones who
can heal yourselves."
There was a moment of strenous objection before the class quieted. The
general agreement seemed to be that they would not need to be healed.
How wrong they were...
"Now, until each and every one of you is able to knock me down before
I disarm you, we will proceed no further. Weasley. You first."
The boy blinked as the rest of the class inched not so subtly away
from him.
What could be so terrifying about a mere woman?
"Aren't you going to clear the desks?" He inquired.
"You do not seem to understand. I am not teaching you to fight under
ideal or equal conditions."
The red haired boy shrugged, and started counting. A Wizard's Duel
began on 'Five.'
Raye didn't bother waiting until that, already moving before he'd
reached 'two.'
"What--" Was all he managed to get out before Raye's shoulder slammed
into his midsection, knocking him into a desk, sending his wand flying
into the air.
Raye's hand lashed out in a burst of unnatural speed and caught the
flying wood.
"I said I was not teaching you to fight under equal conditions. I
never said I would be using magic. Weasley, you have stopped the class
from proceeding today." Raye's scorn for the boy echoed clearly in the
cold air. "Go stand by the door. On the left side. Malfoy, forward."
The second somewhat injured boy stepped forward, already aware of what
was going to happen. There was fear in his eyes, yes. But that he
actually had the guts to draw his wand drew at least a small measure
of respect.
Raye grinned at him ecstatically, before announcing, "Begin."
She stood still, allowing his expelliarmus to slam into her.
Her stolen wand, she really didn't know why she had it out, flew from
her hand as she arched backward, waiting silently as the boy turned
around, thinking himself victorious.
Raye abruptly threw herself into a flip, getting her feet under her,
and landing in a more or less three-point position. There was almost a
cry of warning before she lunged, allowing Malfoy to turn back toward
her before she hit him, driving a knife she had procured up into the
tricep of his wand arm.
He fell, shrieking.
"I told you," she snarled as she ripped the knife free, "we fight
until I hit the ground or I disarm you. Do not let your guard down."
Turning, she continued, "Right then. Who goes next." At the looks of
terror, she added, "no one leaves until all of you have tried."
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 1324, January 1.
-------
UFT, ????. 2301, January 2.
"Where are we, Raye?" Tonks demanded.
Raye's eyes flicked toward her in amusement. "Somewhere in Germany,"
she responded, her accent almost thicker than it had been before.
Tonks glared. "What in Diana's name are we here for?"
Raye's lips curled upward. "You wanted to know where I disappeared to.
This is where. Do not ask more questions yet, be patient. Here, you
are in box Theta. Hurry along, you will see me soon enough."
Raye promptly disappeared into the crowd. Her hair wasn't enough of an
identifier in this place, where green, blue, and a sort of pink shade
of hair were normal, plus she was about a head shorter than everyone
else, giving her further cover.
Tonks glared, then realized she was directly in front of her box. She
sighed, and entered, knowing trying to find Raye would be fruitless.
It wasn't long before there came a concerted roar from the crowd of
bodies as the announcer stepped out into the chain-link cage.
"And now, for the last fight of the night, welcome the survivors of
the deathmatch tournament!" Another earsplitting roar followed this.
"First, we have the Angel of Mercy! Deshwitat Alucard!"
There were screams of approval, accompanied by a sparse few chants of,
"I love you!" as a long-haired man dressed in a black trenchcoat, but
Tonks was too far away to make anything else out.
The man waited for a lull in the chaos before continuing. "And next we
have the shockingly lavender huntress--" he paused as a long roar of
approval accompanied by a surge of bodies against the cage echoed in
the dark chamber. "Low Key Lyesmith!"
There was a brief silence as a woman stepped into the ring. Her hair
was died a... shocking lavender, and so was her skin. Her clothes were
exactly the same color, a skintight tanktop with a pair of loose
fitting cargo pants.
Then the room exploded in a chant of, "Low Key, Low Key, Low Key!"
The noise was, suffice to say, shocking. It exploded without any slow
increase in volume, and though there had been no indication of its
coming, it seemed as if the entire crowd had started as one.
Tonks looked around for Raye for a moment before her eyes fell upon a
screen to her right. For a moment she stared in utter silence, before
her face turned into a mask of disbelief.
Sure, the skin and hair color was different, and so were her clothes,
but there was not questioning the fact.
Low Key Lyesmith was Raye...
"Begin!" The announcer bellowed as he retreated into his small chamber
off the side of the cage. It certainly looked like glass, but that
would have been stupid. What was it the muggles called it? Impact
resistant? Polycarbon or something like that?
Deshwitat was moving before the echo had finished, much to the
enjoyment of the crowd. Tonks decided she needed a better view, and so
turned toward the screen, the camera of which was focused on
Deshwitat. His hands were glowing strangely, though she couldn't tell
if that was because of his gloves, or some sort of spell.
His open palm slammed into Raye's gut, barely phasing her. There was a
brief second before it exploded, sending Raye flying backward into the
cage fence. Tonks gasped, she'd only seen Raye fight on one or two
occasions, but seeing someone fling her around like that was just
disturbing.
The so called Angel of Mercy turned his back toward her, evidently
assuming he'd won. Though Tonks believed him correct in this
assumption, she hoped he wasn't.
And she was thus pleased to see Raye stand, the shirt burned away from
her abdomen, revealing that she had probably done her entire body with
the lavender dye.
There was another echo from the crowd, and Deshwitat turned around,
surprised.
By then, however, Raye was already directly in front of him, her right
hand swinging for his face, open. It impacted with a crunch, as his
jaw broke, and left five long red gashes on his immaculate skin.
He staggered, nearly collapsing, before his glare turned up toward
Raye again, and he started to stand. Unfortunately, this lead him
straight into Raye's roundhouse kick, sending him streaking into the
fence in much the same manner that she had done, though the impact
nearly sent him through the metal, but nevertheless shredded his coat.
Slowly he stood, blood trickling down his face, hunched slightly to
his left as if he was nursing several broken ribs.
Raye lunged, without waiting for the man to attack, driving one clawed
hand into his chest, shattering his sternum, sending bone fragments
into his lungs, also scoring a deep laceration on one of the major
arteries leading out of his heart. Despite the internal damage,
however, his skin remained unbroken.
Raye's eyes glittered as the man collapsed, reflecting oddly in the
spotlight directed at her. She raised her arms, rotating slowly on the
spot, as if seeking something from the crowd.
"Judge him!" She howled, her accent disturbingly heavy.
The crowd screamed in response. "KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM!"
Raye turned, her blood-soaked hands lowering to her sides.
Deshwitat, the Angel of Mercy, looked up, and attempted to lift his
arms to defend himself.
For a moment, it looked as if he would succeed, and Raye's smile
widened.
And then his arms fell, as well as his head.
Raye snarled furiously, and she drove her hand up from underneath his
jaw, spearing his skull.
She remained still for a moment, before ripping her hand away and
strolling back toward the edge of the ring. Before she reached the
exit, she stopped and traced a symbol on her face in the man's blood.
Behind her, the man fell face forward onto the bloody ring, crimson
streaking his cheeks as it leaked from his eyes, giving the vague
impression that he might be crying.
And the crowd raved, "Low Key, Low Key, Low Key!"
UFT, ????. 2316, January 2.
Secondary Disclaimer Notes: Low Key Lyesmith comes from American Gods,
by Neil Gaiman. Deshwitat is from Rebirth by Woo, a Graphic Novel.
Alucard is Dracula spelled backward, of the Bram Stokes novel. I did
not get it from Castlevainia.
Saetan--You know, I just said your name aloud. Pronounced it "satan",
but that's probably wrong. You are... close to right with what
Raye/Harry is. Slightly off though. That thought actually had crossed
my mind, when I was considering an NC-17 chapter/chapter part. It may
or may not show up here, if at all. But I know where it'll be if it
does. Heh, I remember this one guy, his girlfriend was erection-
phobic. Poor guy. XD
Relle--Yes, Loki is the trickster god. Norse, I believe. The reason I
used "Low Key Lyesmith" as her pseudo. I can't claim that the name's
mine though. It comes from American Gods by Neil Gaiman. And yeah,
Raye is Harry. The change is a rather extensive, complicated process.
Painful too. Harry may or may not reappear as a male. If he does,
that'll kinda throw Tonks if it's before I establish something.