GentleWaterSoul - I didn't realise Blackened Sunrise took three
hours to read. Wow ^___^
Phoenix Flight - I just can't leave ya'll with only two chapters a
weekend. So, here's the third one of the weekend, even if it _is_
a Tuesday.
Steph - I think I'll take howling wolf's idea and make it a stand
alone/side fic to Blackened Sunrise, so I won't have to write a
flashback chapter.
Willows - I know what Monofilament wire is. It's the wire on Linna's
helmet. Linna being one of the Knight Sabers from Bubblegum
Crisis/Crash & Tokyo 2040. And about Harbinger-- according to my
dictonary (and my thesaurus; I checked both) there's no such thing as a
harbRinger. I wrote it all out as harbringer before I ran it through
spellcheck and it came up wrong. Had to do a little checking after that
point ^__^ And to double check, you can always do the highlight hit D
thing FF.net set up for definitions.
Fire-Mage - What groups are these? I really wanna know! I didn't think
Blackened Sunrise was popular enough to be on lists other than my own.
Then again, I also didn't think it would be popular enough to almost
have four hundred reviews by this point... So far, I haven't uploaded
Blackened Sunrise to any other website, although I do have accounts at
various fiction sites all around the net. Mmmmm, chocolate... I'll eat
chocolates made by practically anyone. Even BC, even if they _do_ taste
bitter 90% of the time. Er... any ways... I didn't spend the week
_trying_ to think about Dray's Challenge. It just... sort of happened.
I had all these lurverly scenes, and most of them didn't actually make
it into the fic.
Thirty-nine chapters, and JKR still refuses to allow me to even think I
own Harry Potter.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Weapon
The Itch
---
Bladewhip blinked a good dozen times before he realized he was sitting
on his ass, on the floor, in the middle of the Great Hall. Thirty
seconds ago, he'd been in his true form, hugging the blood-haired
Weapon tightly, in thanks for finding his Weapon Name. Now he was human
again, and Katar was sitting on his right.
Briefly, he wondered what Harry's Challenge had been like, before he
stood and popped all the cricks out of his back and neck. The fair
haired male turned to face the head table, where Hermione and Ron sat.
The female Gryffindor blinked a couple times, "You're done?"
"I take it we didn't take very long," mused Harry as he stretched
himself out. Just because his physical body didn't need it, didn't mean
he couldn't do it. Having the Spirit separate, then re-enter the body
could actually be very tiring.
"About thirty seconds, actually," Ron mumbled, "That guy," he pointed
to Katar, "came in, sat down, you all collapsed, glowed for a couple
seconds, and then sat right back up."
"His name is Katar," Ginny supplied helpfully, "So, Weapon, are we
fully trained Living Weapons now?"
Silver swiftly took control over green, much faster than it ever had
when they had begun their training. Their instructor's monotone was
not-quite so monotone, a small husk of amusement tinging his voice,
"You have passed the Challenge. That is all that is required to be
considered a Living Weapon."
"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Draco put his hands on his hips, leaning
forwards, "Are you saying... that we didn't _have_ to go through all
that training? We could have just... done the Challenge?"
Weapon gave him a curt nod, "Of course. Your training was so that you
could be at the best of your abilities before the Challenge fully
opened the passages within your mind for The Power to follow. Your
training was to prepare you for War. For the Balance."
That last line calmed Draco significantly. Dart and Gunn shared a
confused look, before shrugging at one another. They supposed that only
people as deep in the Power-- or as insane as those two-- could truly
understand the Balance. Of course they wanted it, and were actively
participating in it's conception and creation, but they didn't
understand it as their leader and his second in command understood it.
Hermione hopped off the table, summoning her athame with a negligent
flick of her wrist. She'd gotten used to the blade that had once been
used by the ancient spell casters, before they learned of wands. Wands
were the modern wizard's crutch, only needing a flick of the wrist to
preform magic. Over the months she'd been using the blade to cast the
counter runes, she'd grown quite attached to the athame, and had come
to preform spells outside of her classes with it. There was something
more... fulfilling about tracing the runes in the air, in knowing all
the little intricacies of the spell to be able to change it with just a
simple line here or there.
There was a small part of her that hoped, that when the Balance was
brought to be, she'd still be the only one using an athame. Let all the
other wizards and witches keep their wands. She had an athame-- a very
powerful one, having been enchanting it the entire time she'd had it.
It was so much a part of her that she didn't even need to say a word,
or have her wand in hand to bring it to herself. Such a wonderful
little tool.
"Are you ready, Harry?"
Those four words brought an immediate halt to the investigations of
their new connections to The Power by the newly instated Living
Weapons. Katar, Bladewhip, Gunn and Dart gathered in a semi-circle
behind Harry, who's eyes shone gleefully emerald. Ron still sat on the
table, there to watch in silent awe as Harry was freed for the first
time since August. For the first time in five months. It would be a
momentous occasion.
The second youngest Weasley's eyes widened considerably as he watched,
dry mouthed, the glowing lines form in the air as Hermione used the
athame to weave the ancient counter runes. With every scratch and etch,
another line or eldrich power would appear. Blue, White, Silver, Green,
Red, Gold, Black, Orange... each rune was a different color when first
etched, but each faded to a steady hum of lavender as the runes
interacted with one another. He sucked in a desperately needed breath,
eyes turning from the runes to the woman casting them.
The sixteen year old's brown hair was lifting into the air, swirling
around her head as the power around her increased. Her robes flared,
dancing in the air, a normally unnoticed trim of white along the bottom
edge of the black cloth shimmered and flickered different colors with
the ever shifting runes. It was an impressive scene, made all the more
so by the four awe-struck faces standing behind the close-eyed
revealing figure of Harry James Potter.
He could feel The Power reached out, stroking his cheeks, and
whispering reassurances. It was coming back. It would finally be able
to come to it's most powerful child at full strength. The Power was
like the soothing hand of a mother on it's child, and more than once
had Harry imagined that if The Power had a physical form, it would be
Lily Potter.
That was why it had hurt so much when it had been sealed off from him.
He had been separated from the mother he so desperately wanted...
needed. In his mind, he could see Lily reached out and enveloping
himself and Weapon in her arms as The Power flooded through their joint
body, soothing Weapon's aching, tortured soul, and acting as a balm on
Harry's more satanical insanities. It was a reunion that filled them
both with insurmountable glee.
Finally, Hermione withdrew, moving to stand several feet away, and with
a whispered, "Finite." the runes flared from faded lavender to a
startling iridescent shade of amber-gold. Then the light faded away
completely, leaving Harry Potter standing in the center of a wind-swept
Great Hall, still completely human. His fingers traced across the
rune-studded leather on each bicep, before a cruel, malevolent smirk
crossed his face.
The brown haired Gryffindor bowed deeply, slipping the athame into her
sleeve before standing once more, "All you have to do--"
"--is remove my own bonds," Harry finished, grinning, "We'll wait until
tomorrow evening for that."
"Tomorrow?" Ron questioned, utterly confused. He didn't really
understand what was going on, or what he'd gotten himself messed up
with, but Harry and Hermione were his best friends. He trusted Sirius.
He was Ginny's older brother, and had vowed to protect her no matter
what even before the incident with the Chamber of Secrets. He might not
know about Malfoy or Katar, but he trusted the other four. He'd follow
through to the end, and maybe then they'd explain everything, fully, to
him.
"Yes, tomorrow," Harry's wicked grin only got worse. Hermione's eyes
widened.
"Everyone will be back..." she murmured appreciatively
"... all in one place," mused Draco, "They can't skip out."
"Exactly," Harry's eyes twinkled darkly, "Now, let's go get some sleep.
Tomorrow is a big day. Katar? You go with Bladewhip to the Dungeons for
the night."
Katar nodded, "Until tomorrow, Weapon." His fire cloak swirled around
him as he trailed after the disappearing Malfoy. Sirius switched to
Padfoot and followed Ron and Ginny out. When Hermione attempted to
follow, Harry snagged her sleeve.
"Harry?"
"'Mione..." he was smirking again, "Why don't we have a little talk
about you and your athame."
She raised a brown eyebrow, "What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"How powerful you want it to be. Consider it... a payment for all
you've done for me over these past few months."
---
While Professor Dumbledore was not noticeably worried, at the Welcome
Back Feast following New Years, the entire school knew something was
up. All of them had seen the fleeting image of a man draped in flames
flitting about the school at some point or another during the day.
At Slytherin table, Draco couldn't keep the evil little smirk that
graced his features off his face. At the doors of the Great Hall, the
large black Grim looked all to amused for many a person's thoughts.
The most disconcerting was at the Gryffindor Table. Virginia had a
smirk to match Draco's, and every time her eyes would flicker across
the room only to catch the grey-blue gaze of her cohort, she'd start
chuckling under her breath. Ron was sitting and laughing with Harry and
Hermione like he hadn't for weeks, while Hermione was giggling and
smiling all together to much, her fingers returning to her left sleeve
every few moments.
And Potter himself looked a picture of darkness as any before him, his
mussed up, black hair hanging in the now-familiar chin-length tangles,
his piercings glinting and shining like they hadn't since that first
day of the school year. He was dressed in his school robes-- they all
were-- but there was something almost sinister about them that put
everyone off. The collar around his throat was pronounced in such a way
that even if they hadn't noticed it before then, it was clear as a
bell. The silver chain draped loosely for two or so feet from his
throat, before being wrapped around his wrist, over top his robe.
There was a sense of power around him that hadn't been there before the
Christmas hols. More than one person had shivered when their eyes
drifted across the group at Gryffindor Table.
With no warning, what-so-ever, the Grim at the doors began to shift and
change. Growing up and out into the form of a very familiar face-- one
that was always mentioned, at least once, in every issue of the Daily
Prophet. Sirius Black was in Hogwarts; and the students began to
scream.
Dumbledore had jumped to his feet, wondering what was going on, as well
as attempting to calm the students, when Draco stood, slamming his
hands onto Slytherin Table as he bellowed, "_Silence_!"
And lo, there was. But not for lack of trying. The entire hall had
suddenly found themselves without voices, including the professors.
Without voices, they could not cast spells.
Or, perhaps not the entire hall as Black clapped, "Bravo. Marvelously
done, Bladewhip."
"Bet _you_ can't do better," Draco challenged, a gleeful twinkle in his
eyes.
"Bet I can. Lock," he commanded, and the doors were sealed with the
Power. The students would have been freaking out even more, but they
drew strength from the fact that Virginia, Ron, Hermione and Harry did
not look disturbed. If those four were not afraid, everything was okay.
Right?
With a feline grace, Harry came to his feet, and with him came the
other three Gryffindors. He made a motion to Ginny, and she pointed at
Dumbledore, "Be seated." The Power yanked him back into his seat, and
he couldn't seem to move.
Hermione withdrew her athame from her left sleeve, where it had been
tucked all day. A single rune graced the air as she cleared the table
with her magic, and Harry leapt on top of it. He began to pace, an
amused smile across his face the entire time.
"I bet," he began, "You are all wondering what is going on. Well,
perhaps I should explain." He twirled in place, "Bladewhip, step
forwards."
Draco stepped away from the Slytherin table, moving towards the doors
to stand proud. Harry grinned, "My second in command, formerly known as
Draco Malfoy. Gunn?" Virginia stood with Draco and Sirius, "My muggle
weapons mistress, formerly Virginia Weasley. Dart." Sirius bowed, "My
dearest godfather, once known as Sirius Black. Katar." The man with the
horned shoulders slipped from the shadows, where by all rights he
should not have been able to hide, "The Missing Weapon."
His grin got wider, "Hermione Granger, a true spell caster. And of
course, Ron Weasley, one of my closest friends. Unlike the rest of you,
they happen to be capable of speech right this instant."
Professor Snape appeared to be attempting to curse the Living Weapons,
which only made Gunn burst into laughter. Harry smirked at him, "That
won't work, Snape. You're facing, essentially, five people with a power
equal to that of Voldemort, and a witch who's power at the moment is
equal to That Damned Old Bastard. Oh, wait, you know him as Merlin,
don't you?"
Recognition dawned on the faces of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape,
"Oh, I'm so glad you three remember. I was worried I'd have to show
everyone what you did to me... oh, what the hell! Why not?" He ripped
his robes away, leaving himself dressed in a pair of black muggle
jeans, and that was it. Not even a muscle shirt.
Around each bicep was the wards that had bound him for five months, and
around his neck, the collar they had used to attempt to force him to
remain in his classes for that entire length of time. The cold glint of
his metal gauntlets was familiar only to the sixth year male
Gryffindor's having seen Harry go to bed every night wearing them.
Potter's fingers came to trace the leather around his right arm, "You
see, I know all about these wards you used to attempt to seal my other
half away. I also know the counter runes."
This was the signal the other three, unchanged, Weapons had been
waiting for. Draco shifted into his draconic form, the white Chinese
style outfit swirling into existence from his black robes. Virginia's
feet twisted into their talons, while the fluffy read feathers extended
from her skull and her tail feathers spread outwards. Her own outfit
looked like a black leotard with a red stripe directly down the center
of her front, about a hand's length in width.
Sirius felt the ears of his fennec-like form extending upwards through
his black hair, and felt his lower half become distinctly animal. It
was wonderful being back in his true form as the tattered looking jean
cut-offs formed around his hips and thighs, a red muscle shirt fitting
snugly over his chest.
"You see," he smiled, "We don't really like our human forms. They're
far to constraining. It's why I let Bladewhip run around like he did on
Halloween. Oh, and don't worry. They really are who they once appeared
to be. The Power is funny like that. It likes to change our shapes."
There was an almost curious look in the faces of everyone who was not
strictly terrified by the sudden change in their classmates-- mostly
the Slytherins, and surprisingly, a few Hufflepuffs. Harry was grinning
widely.
"I bet you want to know what my true form is. Well... let's just say...
Weapon's not quite as human as the others."
And he withdrew his own power from the wards that had contained him for
five months, the worn and beaten leather tearing off as he changed.
He grew taller, breasting seven feet, as eyes and hair turned to molten
silver. His skin faded to alabaster, and ears lengthening nearly four
inches. His face extended outwards in a vaguely saurian muzzle, but not
all that far, maybe only an inch or so past where the end of his
human-nose had once been, and his mouth lined with curved, carnivorous
fangs. And then the reason for his shirtless-ness came about.
He doubled over as his back began to pulse in time with his heart beat,
gritting his teeth to keep from howling in pain as blackness ripped
from his back, splattering the shocked Gryffindor's at the table he
stood on with his own blood. Two long, thin black demonic wings beat
twice, having torn themselves free of his lower back. But the skin of
his back was not done with it's pulsing, as another set of wings
widened the bloody mess of his back to beat themselves dry.
This set extended from his shoulders, framing the black bat-like wings
with thick silver feathers, decorated with his own blood. But the drops
of red slipped off them, splattering on the table, leaving the great
dove wings to beat themselves dry. Those that were behind him were
nearly sick as they watched the bloody tracks in his back seal up,
blood pulling back into his body. It was a horrifying sight to watch.
From wrist to elbow, his flesh split, and wickedly curved,
scimitar-like blades that extended a good four and a half inches out
formed along the split. Similar blades arched upwards from his doubled
shoulders, not unlike Katar's horns. At the base of his spine, a four
foot tail snaked out, bony protrusions that mimicked the shape of the
blades, just lacking the bladed edge, grew, the very end tipped by two
such bones, looking almost like a dolphin or shark's tail fins.
His shoes were torn to shreds as his feet were reconstructed into
velociraptor-like clawed talons, and the reason for his pants being so
baggy was made apparent; not only were his feet reconstructed as such,
but his entire lower-body. Like his feet, his hands changed, losing his
pinky-finger as his fingers extended and were tipped by dark claws. The
skin from his navel up was the chill alabaster of his face, while from
the hips down, it appeared as though his legs were black scales,
although it was hard to tell as they vanished into his black jeans.
He looked like some sort of deranged angel.
Like a Fallen Angel.
---
End Chapter
Well, I finally gave in and showed ya'll what Weapon looked like. A
half dinosaur half human thing with big ass black bat wings _and_
silver angel wings. His entire color scheme is black/silver/white.
This is the longest chapter yet, at nine pages. (Before writing the
author's notes.)
hours to read. Wow ^___^
Phoenix Flight - I just can't leave ya'll with only two chapters a
weekend. So, here's the third one of the weekend, even if it _is_
a Tuesday.
Steph - I think I'll take howling wolf's idea and make it a stand
alone/side fic to Blackened Sunrise, so I won't have to write a
flashback chapter.
Willows - I know what Monofilament wire is. It's the wire on Linna's
helmet. Linna being one of the Knight Sabers from Bubblegum
Crisis/Crash & Tokyo 2040. And about Harbinger-- according to my
dictonary (and my thesaurus; I checked both) there's no such thing as a
harbRinger. I wrote it all out as harbringer before I ran it through
spellcheck and it came up wrong. Had to do a little checking after that
point ^__^ And to double check, you can always do the highlight hit D
thing FF.net set up for definitions.
Fire-Mage - What groups are these? I really wanna know! I didn't think
Blackened Sunrise was popular enough to be on lists other than my own.
Then again, I also didn't think it would be popular enough to almost
have four hundred reviews by this point... So far, I haven't uploaded
Blackened Sunrise to any other website, although I do have accounts at
various fiction sites all around the net. Mmmmm, chocolate... I'll eat
chocolates made by practically anyone. Even BC, even if they _do_ taste
bitter 90% of the time. Er... any ways... I didn't spend the week
_trying_ to think about Dray's Challenge. It just... sort of happened.
I had all these lurverly scenes, and most of them didn't actually make
it into the fic.
Thirty-nine chapters, and JKR still refuses to allow me to even think I
own Harry Potter.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Weapon
The Itch
---
Bladewhip blinked a good dozen times before he realized he was sitting
on his ass, on the floor, in the middle of the Great Hall. Thirty
seconds ago, he'd been in his true form, hugging the blood-haired
Weapon tightly, in thanks for finding his Weapon Name. Now he was human
again, and Katar was sitting on his right.
Briefly, he wondered what Harry's Challenge had been like, before he
stood and popped all the cricks out of his back and neck. The fair
haired male turned to face the head table, where Hermione and Ron sat.
The female Gryffindor blinked a couple times, "You're done?"
"I take it we didn't take very long," mused Harry as he stretched
himself out. Just because his physical body didn't need it, didn't mean
he couldn't do it. Having the Spirit separate, then re-enter the body
could actually be very tiring.
"About thirty seconds, actually," Ron mumbled, "That guy," he pointed
to Katar, "came in, sat down, you all collapsed, glowed for a couple
seconds, and then sat right back up."
"His name is Katar," Ginny supplied helpfully, "So, Weapon, are we
fully trained Living Weapons now?"
Silver swiftly took control over green, much faster than it ever had
when they had begun their training. Their instructor's monotone was
not-quite so monotone, a small husk of amusement tinging his voice,
"You have passed the Challenge. That is all that is required to be
considered a Living Weapon."
"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Draco put his hands on his hips, leaning
forwards, "Are you saying... that we didn't _have_ to go through all
that training? We could have just... done the Challenge?"
Weapon gave him a curt nod, "Of course. Your training was so that you
could be at the best of your abilities before the Challenge fully
opened the passages within your mind for The Power to follow. Your
training was to prepare you for War. For the Balance."
That last line calmed Draco significantly. Dart and Gunn shared a
confused look, before shrugging at one another. They supposed that only
people as deep in the Power-- or as insane as those two-- could truly
understand the Balance. Of course they wanted it, and were actively
participating in it's conception and creation, but they didn't
understand it as their leader and his second in command understood it.
Hermione hopped off the table, summoning her athame with a negligent
flick of her wrist. She'd gotten used to the blade that had once been
used by the ancient spell casters, before they learned of wands. Wands
were the modern wizard's crutch, only needing a flick of the wrist to
preform magic. Over the months she'd been using the blade to cast the
counter runes, she'd grown quite attached to the athame, and had come
to preform spells outside of her classes with it. There was something
more... fulfilling about tracing the runes in the air, in knowing all
the little intricacies of the spell to be able to change it with just a
simple line here or there.
There was a small part of her that hoped, that when the Balance was
brought to be, she'd still be the only one using an athame. Let all the
other wizards and witches keep their wands. She had an athame-- a very
powerful one, having been enchanting it the entire time she'd had it.
It was so much a part of her that she didn't even need to say a word,
or have her wand in hand to bring it to herself. Such a wonderful
little tool.
"Are you ready, Harry?"
Those four words brought an immediate halt to the investigations of
their new connections to The Power by the newly instated Living
Weapons. Katar, Bladewhip, Gunn and Dart gathered in a semi-circle
behind Harry, who's eyes shone gleefully emerald. Ron still sat on the
table, there to watch in silent awe as Harry was freed for the first
time since August. For the first time in five months. It would be a
momentous occasion.
The second youngest Weasley's eyes widened considerably as he watched,
dry mouthed, the glowing lines form in the air as Hermione used the
athame to weave the ancient counter runes. With every scratch and etch,
another line or eldrich power would appear. Blue, White, Silver, Green,
Red, Gold, Black, Orange... each rune was a different color when first
etched, but each faded to a steady hum of lavender as the runes
interacted with one another. He sucked in a desperately needed breath,
eyes turning from the runes to the woman casting them.
The sixteen year old's brown hair was lifting into the air, swirling
around her head as the power around her increased. Her robes flared,
dancing in the air, a normally unnoticed trim of white along the bottom
edge of the black cloth shimmered and flickered different colors with
the ever shifting runes. It was an impressive scene, made all the more
so by the four awe-struck faces standing behind the close-eyed
revealing figure of Harry James Potter.
He could feel The Power reached out, stroking his cheeks, and
whispering reassurances. It was coming back. It would finally be able
to come to it's most powerful child at full strength. The Power was
like the soothing hand of a mother on it's child, and more than once
had Harry imagined that if The Power had a physical form, it would be
Lily Potter.
That was why it had hurt so much when it had been sealed off from him.
He had been separated from the mother he so desperately wanted...
needed. In his mind, he could see Lily reached out and enveloping
himself and Weapon in her arms as The Power flooded through their joint
body, soothing Weapon's aching, tortured soul, and acting as a balm on
Harry's more satanical insanities. It was a reunion that filled them
both with insurmountable glee.
Finally, Hermione withdrew, moving to stand several feet away, and with
a whispered, "Finite." the runes flared from faded lavender to a
startling iridescent shade of amber-gold. Then the light faded away
completely, leaving Harry Potter standing in the center of a wind-swept
Great Hall, still completely human. His fingers traced across the
rune-studded leather on each bicep, before a cruel, malevolent smirk
crossed his face.
The brown haired Gryffindor bowed deeply, slipping the athame into her
sleeve before standing once more, "All you have to do--"
"--is remove my own bonds," Harry finished, grinning, "We'll wait until
tomorrow evening for that."
"Tomorrow?" Ron questioned, utterly confused. He didn't really
understand what was going on, or what he'd gotten himself messed up
with, but Harry and Hermione were his best friends. He trusted Sirius.
He was Ginny's older brother, and had vowed to protect her no matter
what even before the incident with the Chamber of Secrets. He might not
know about Malfoy or Katar, but he trusted the other four. He'd follow
through to the end, and maybe then they'd explain everything, fully, to
him.
"Yes, tomorrow," Harry's wicked grin only got worse. Hermione's eyes
widened.
"Everyone will be back..." she murmured appreciatively
"... all in one place," mused Draco, "They can't skip out."
"Exactly," Harry's eyes twinkled darkly, "Now, let's go get some sleep.
Tomorrow is a big day. Katar? You go with Bladewhip to the Dungeons for
the night."
Katar nodded, "Until tomorrow, Weapon." His fire cloak swirled around
him as he trailed after the disappearing Malfoy. Sirius switched to
Padfoot and followed Ron and Ginny out. When Hermione attempted to
follow, Harry snagged her sleeve.
"Harry?"
"'Mione..." he was smirking again, "Why don't we have a little talk
about you and your athame."
She raised a brown eyebrow, "What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"How powerful you want it to be. Consider it... a payment for all
you've done for me over these past few months."
---
While Professor Dumbledore was not noticeably worried, at the Welcome
Back Feast following New Years, the entire school knew something was
up. All of them had seen the fleeting image of a man draped in flames
flitting about the school at some point or another during the day.
At Slytherin table, Draco couldn't keep the evil little smirk that
graced his features off his face. At the doors of the Great Hall, the
large black Grim looked all to amused for many a person's thoughts.
The most disconcerting was at the Gryffindor Table. Virginia had a
smirk to match Draco's, and every time her eyes would flicker across
the room only to catch the grey-blue gaze of her cohort, she'd start
chuckling under her breath. Ron was sitting and laughing with Harry and
Hermione like he hadn't for weeks, while Hermione was giggling and
smiling all together to much, her fingers returning to her left sleeve
every few moments.
And Potter himself looked a picture of darkness as any before him, his
mussed up, black hair hanging in the now-familiar chin-length tangles,
his piercings glinting and shining like they hadn't since that first
day of the school year. He was dressed in his school robes-- they all
were-- but there was something almost sinister about them that put
everyone off. The collar around his throat was pronounced in such a way
that even if they hadn't noticed it before then, it was clear as a
bell. The silver chain draped loosely for two or so feet from his
throat, before being wrapped around his wrist, over top his robe.
There was a sense of power around him that hadn't been there before the
Christmas hols. More than one person had shivered when their eyes
drifted across the group at Gryffindor Table.
With no warning, what-so-ever, the Grim at the doors began to shift and
change. Growing up and out into the form of a very familiar face-- one
that was always mentioned, at least once, in every issue of the Daily
Prophet. Sirius Black was in Hogwarts; and the students began to
scream.
Dumbledore had jumped to his feet, wondering what was going on, as well
as attempting to calm the students, when Draco stood, slamming his
hands onto Slytherin Table as he bellowed, "_Silence_!"
And lo, there was. But not for lack of trying. The entire hall had
suddenly found themselves without voices, including the professors.
Without voices, they could not cast spells.
Or, perhaps not the entire hall as Black clapped, "Bravo. Marvelously
done, Bladewhip."
"Bet _you_ can't do better," Draco challenged, a gleeful twinkle in his
eyes.
"Bet I can. Lock," he commanded, and the doors were sealed with the
Power. The students would have been freaking out even more, but they
drew strength from the fact that Virginia, Ron, Hermione and Harry did
not look disturbed. If those four were not afraid, everything was okay.
Right?
With a feline grace, Harry came to his feet, and with him came the
other three Gryffindors. He made a motion to Ginny, and she pointed at
Dumbledore, "Be seated." The Power yanked him back into his seat, and
he couldn't seem to move.
Hermione withdrew her athame from her left sleeve, where it had been
tucked all day. A single rune graced the air as she cleared the table
with her magic, and Harry leapt on top of it. He began to pace, an
amused smile across his face the entire time.
"I bet," he began, "You are all wondering what is going on. Well,
perhaps I should explain." He twirled in place, "Bladewhip, step
forwards."
Draco stepped away from the Slytherin table, moving towards the doors
to stand proud. Harry grinned, "My second in command, formerly known as
Draco Malfoy. Gunn?" Virginia stood with Draco and Sirius, "My muggle
weapons mistress, formerly Virginia Weasley. Dart." Sirius bowed, "My
dearest godfather, once known as Sirius Black. Katar." The man with the
horned shoulders slipped from the shadows, where by all rights he
should not have been able to hide, "The Missing Weapon."
His grin got wider, "Hermione Granger, a true spell caster. And of
course, Ron Weasley, one of my closest friends. Unlike the rest of you,
they happen to be capable of speech right this instant."
Professor Snape appeared to be attempting to curse the Living Weapons,
which only made Gunn burst into laughter. Harry smirked at him, "That
won't work, Snape. You're facing, essentially, five people with a power
equal to that of Voldemort, and a witch who's power at the moment is
equal to That Damned Old Bastard. Oh, wait, you know him as Merlin,
don't you?"
Recognition dawned on the faces of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape,
"Oh, I'm so glad you three remember. I was worried I'd have to show
everyone what you did to me... oh, what the hell! Why not?" He ripped
his robes away, leaving himself dressed in a pair of black muggle
jeans, and that was it. Not even a muscle shirt.
Around each bicep was the wards that had bound him for five months, and
around his neck, the collar they had used to attempt to force him to
remain in his classes for that entire length of time. The cold glint of
his metal gauntlets was familiar only to the sixth year male
Gryffindor's having seen Harry go to bed every night wearing them.
Potter's fingers came to trace the leather around his right arm, "You
see, I know all about these wards you used to attempt to seal my other
half away. I also know the counter runes."
This was the signal the other three, unchanged, Weapons had been
waiting for. Draco shifted into his draconic form, the white Chinese
style outfit swirling into existence from his black robes. Virginia's
feet twisted into their talons, while the fluffy read feathers extended
from her skull and her tail feathers spread outwards. Her own outfit
looked like a black leotard with a red stripe directly down the center
of her front, about a hand's length in width.
Sirius felt the ears of his fennec-like form extending upwards through
his black hair, and felt his lower half become distinctly animal. It
was wonderful being back in his true form as the tattered looking jean
cut-offs formed around his hips and thighs, a red muscle shirt fitting
snugly over his chest.
"You see," he smiled, "We don't really like our human forms. They're
far to constraining. It's why I let Bladewhip run around like he did on
Halloween. Oh, and don't worry. They really are who they once appeared
to be. The Power is funny like that. It likes to change our shapes."
There was an almost curious look in the faces of everyone who was not
strictly terrified by the sudden change in their classmates-- mostly
the Slytherins, and surprisingly, a few Hufflepuffs. Harry was grinning
widely.
"I bet you want to know what my true form is. Well... let's just say...
Weapon's not quite as human as the others."
And he withdrew his own power from the wards that had contained him for
five months, the worn and beaten leather tearing off as he changed.
He grew taller, breasting seven feet, as eyes and hair turned to molten
silver. His skin faded to alabaster, and ears lengthening nearly four
inches. His face extended outwards in a vaguely saurian muzzle, but not
all that far, maybe only an inch or so past where the end of his
human-nose had once been, and his mouth lined with curved, carnivorous
fangs. And then the reason for his shirtless-ness came about.
He doubled over as his back began to pulse in time with his heart beat,
gritting his teeth to keep from howling in pain as blackness ripped
from his back, splattering the shocked Gryffindor's at the table he
stood on with his own blood. Two long, thin black demonic wings beat
twice, having torn themselves free of his lower back. But the skin of
his back was not done with it's pulsing, as another set of wings
widened the bloody mess of his back to beat themselves dry.
This set extended from his shoulders, framing the black bat-like wings
with thick silver feathers, decorated with his own blood. But the drops
of red slipped off them, splattering on the table, leaving the great
dove wings to beat themselves dry. Those that were behind him were
nearly sick as they watched the bloody tracks in his back seal up,
blood pulling back into his body. It was a horrifying sight to watch.
From wrist to elbow, his flesh split, and wickedly curved,
scimitar-like blades that extended a good four and a half inches out
formed along the split. Similar blades arched upwards from his doubled
shoulders, not unlike Katar's horns. At the base of his spine, a four
foot tail snaked out, bony protrusions that mimicked the shape of the
blades, just lacking the bladed edge, grew, the very end tipped by two
such bones, looking almost like a dolphin or shark's tail fins.
His shoes were torn to shreds as his feet were reconstructed into
velociraptor-like clawed talons, and the reason for his pants being so
baggy was made apparent; not only were his feet reconstructed as such,
but his entire lower-body. Like his feet, his hands changed, losing his
pinky-finger as his fingers extended and were tipped by dark claws. The
skin from his navel up was the chill alabaster of his face, while from
the hips down, it appeared as though his legs were black scales,
although it was hard to tell as they vanished into his black jeans.
He looked like some sort of deranged angel.
Like a Fallen Angel.
---
End Chapter
Well, I finally gave in and showed ya'll what Weapon looked like. A
half dinosaur half human thing with big ass black bat wings _and_
silver angel wings. His entire color scheme is black/silver/white.
This is the longest chapter yet, at nine pages. (Before writing the
author's notes.)