by CrimsonNoble
A/N:
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. Quite probable threesome
relationship between any of the above. 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 19:
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
When the eyes that Severus did not own opened, a demon occupied his
vision. A demon with silver hair and eyes.
He cringed as best he was able, irritated by Lie's casually languid
blink, as if the person cared not about what this monster was capable
of. The demon frowned, reached down, and lifted Lie from what passed
for a bed by the neck. Severus gagged at the pressure, and wanted
desperately to grab at the hands. Lie grinned at the woman.
"Hi," he grunted, looking down at the demon. "Bad day?"
Cais tightened her grip, and then threw him in the general direction
of the door.
"Who," she demanded, "is this?"
Lie looked at the deathly pale woman in the bed. It took a moment of
thought to figure out who she was. "A toy," he responded carefully.
Severus knew this to be a lie, knew in fact that Lie was fully in love
with the albino. He knew too that this was the only way for the woman
to leave alive.
"You don't bring your toys here, understand?"
Lie nodded as best he was able.
"Good." Cais smiled viciously, and then rammed her hand through Lie's
chest. "Learn, Raye. You're not an Ange until you kill myself or Euri,
and that's never going to happen."
Lie froze, his neck arching in a rictus as the orgasmic sensation
ripped through his body.
Cais dropped him casually, and left, taking a portion of his heart
with her.
I lost my heart, to a sweet demon of mine...
UKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
-------
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0808, January 20.
"The hell do you want?"
This was going slightly less than well, Dumbledore observed. He had
hoped that he might get the woman to agree without difficulty.
It seemed such would not be the case. Mentally he steeled himself as
he prepared to do something he disliked most intensely, tell someone
exactly what he wanted.
"The Order is preparing to attack--"
"Oooh!" Raye nearly squealed, "How can I help?"
Dumbledore paused. That had been unnaturally easy. It was, in fact,
surprisingly easy.
"You could help the attack," he began, to be interrupted again.
"I will do it by myself," she volunteered. She wanted blood. "However,"
she continued, "not for free. There are several items I want, and I
will accept those as payment."
"What are they?"
Raye grinned obscenely. "I want one hundred kilograms of stainless
steel. In addition, I will require the use of a forge."
"For what?"
"Never you mind," she said sharply, shaking a finger. "Just do it. If
there is anything out of the ordinary you would like done to the
target, that'll be extra."
Dumbledore was cautious. "What exactly is the ordinary?"
Raye's grin widened, splitting her entire face in two, exposing many
sharp looking teeth. "Razing it to rubble, killing everyone inside,
taking of prisoners for personal use--I suppose that means I will need
the use of a dungeon--impaling everyone that isn't a mass of tissue."
"I do not wish for the building to be leveled." No, leaving it
standing would allow his Order to use it as a base.
"That will cost you. I think Harry Potter's wand would be an
appropriate payment."
"Done," the wizard responded quickly. The wand was no use without the
wizard.
"Deliver the items to this address," Raye slashed something onto a
piece of paper, and passed it over to the wizard. "Within two days
after the destruction. If you do not, I will take my payment from you."
And then she was gone.
"What do you think?" Dumbledore asked the corner of the room.
The corner shifted, and out of it slid a pale man in an impeccable
suit, black with a dark tie and white button up shirt under the
jacket. Round, blue sunglasses hid his eyes, though did nothing to
conceal the manic grin on his face. His hair was impeccably combed,
straight back.
"She knew I was there." He announced in a voice that was less human
and echoed itself somehow.
"How," the old man demanded sharply.
"Damn me," and this struck the man as immensely funny, and he roared
with laughter for a minute, before finishing, "if I know."
Dumbledore shook his head. "What did you find out?"
"That not even I would dare peer into her mind. That she isn't German.
That she's old."
"How can you tell she's not German?"
"It's her face. The shape is all wrong. Oh, and she doesn't have
fingerprints. Not even scars." Dumbledore frowned. "She wasn't raised
in Germany either."
"How...?"
"Her sentence structure," the man waved vaguely, "it's all wrong. She
talks formally, but it isn't your formally. Her word choice is too
good for a non native speaker, but the structure of her speech says
that she hasn't spoken the language in a long time."
"How old is she?"
"Older than me. Older than the world. Older than any world I know of.
Older than humanity. Can I fight her?"
"If you want. How can she be that old?"
The demon laughed. "Time travel, I expect. She doesn't reek of magic
like you people do. No, she carries a trace of it, which says she did
use it, but that was ages ago. Two, three years, that won't be there.
And she's not strictly alive."
"How is that possible?"
"Ask her," he advised, "she'll tell you in all likelyhood. She's not
dead either. It's like her body's been put on hold, though that's not
actually true. That isn't the body she was born with--hell, it could
be the other gender. She weighs a lot too. I couldn't tell you how
much, exactly, but I can tell you that I couldn't lift her."
"You said you wouldn't look into her mind, why?"
"Heh... her mind is vast. There are no faults in her memory.
Everything is immediate, like it has been happening at every instant
since she was born."
"How can you tell?"
"I took a small peek. The place I ended up in..." he looked vaguely
unsettled, "It's not a place I would be in by choice. And she was
laughing there. You call me a monster, a demon. You don't have words
for what she is."
"That is all, Kyaku. You may go. Try not to kill her."
Manic laughter echoed as he sank into the wall again. "I," were his
last, disturbing words, "don't think I can."
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0829, January 20.
della--Congrats. You not only sound like a mentally stunted, inbred
child of a two dollar harlot, you have also managed to further my
theory that anyone who uses the word retarded as an insult is not only
illiterate, but a hormonally imbalanced angsting teenager. In addition
I'm curious, if you believe that to be such, why bother jumping to the
last chapter to review, if you did not read the entirety? If you did
read, was there a deep, pressing need upon your psyche that you should
mindlessly repeat insults beaten into the head of every teenager?
Relle--oooh, I have a stalker! I feel so loved. Luna... well, it is
explored. So, you smoke... and live in the UK... well, that narrows
the list down to what, everyone there but Pope?
imthaman--I'm going to do it. Sooner or later. I'm shamelessly lazy.
babychaos--Yes, that Trigun.