Harry Potter's Secret Weapon

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A/N: Thanks to my wonderful Beta, LtsHrIt4ThBoyz.

New Pureblood Graftees - NPGs - formerly muggleborn or half-blood magical people that are getting a new lease on life after being drafted into a new family. A cleansing and renewal of the gene pool.

The next section has been kept as a separate chapter for sensitive readers. Please keep yourself safe.

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Chapter 30 Black Widow

Can be skipped - warning for a bit of gruesome…

Saturday, August 20th, Wizengamot Notice, Morgan Hill

Zora's friends were such gossips. Why couldn't her crowd keep secrets, or at least be more discreet. Blaise was upset that she had killed his father. The boy was too young to remember him, but was enamored with the concept of a paternal parent. She was all the boy really needed.

He just didn't understand her needs. Or the need to control the family wealth. How dare that wizard try and prevent her from being Regent! Well! The next three husbands were single, older men of a certain 'mindset'. They wanted to look like they were married while being free to see others on the side.

Other men, not that she cared.

She just quietly stole their money until they complained, and then it was another 'oops'. Nothing provable, and never the same method twice. She wasn't stupid, and she was well versed in a variety of non-magical poisons that were nearly undetectable.

Madam Zabini stretched. She'd reverted to Blaise's last name after her last husband died at his work. So sad.

Where was the boy? It was all well and good making proper connections, but Sirius Black wasn't single. The most delicious man she had ever seen. Alas, he was married, and to a healer. No, she knew better than to mess with that!

A letter had come for Blaise while he was moping with fellow classmates. He really should be home by now. She went to go retrieve his letter. Likely something from that awful school of his.

The owl bit her when she tried to take the letter and flew away out the open window.

She was nervous about leaving the front door too far, but she stepped out still dressed in her morning dress, silk slippers, and leaving her wand on the table.

The owl not only flew further and higher, it crossed the front gate.

Forgetting that she shouldn't do this, she opened the gate onto the side road. Suddenly, the wards closed, the house disappeared from view, and all she could see was a narrow country lane with nothing but hedgerows.

Morgan Hill, her home since coming to this country was nowhere to be seen! She couldn't even blast the stupid bird with her wand! She had a poisoned ring on her right hand, and an emergency kit of a sort in her left pocket that included a bit of money but not a spare wand.

It did, however, include a dagger.

Muggles weren't as stupid as the British made them out to be – she couldn't walk to town with a knife in her hand! They would send whatever their version of aurors were.

Debating where to go or what to do, she started walking towards where she thought the town was. Her slippers shredded very quickly on the rough surface of the lane.

A motorist saw her peculiar wear, and stopped, thinking she had lost her medieval fair.

"Need a ride, dearie?" The older man looked shy, retiring, and certainly not dangerous. His clothes were respectable if muggle. Clearly a man of means going by the watch, the rings. Muggles and wizards could both be judged by that. Not to mention the vehicle. Very posh. She'd always wanted to ride in one.

"Yes please. Can you please take me to town?"

"Of course, but I was headed to London…"

"Oh yes! Can you drop me off at Charing Cross? I'd gladly pay you back."

"Oh, no need, my dear. Here, let's get you in." He parked and got out to seat her in the front passenger side, tucking her in carefully just like it was a coach. How thoughtful. She gave him a shy smile for his efforts.

The woman didn't know much about cars, and didn't notice that the left side had no handle to open the door from inside. Or that the door locked the instant he shut it.

Heading directly away from London, away from civilization, the man drove to a lonely house in the fens.

If she had her wand, it would have been a toss up of who would win. She had one chance by the time she realized she was in danger, and thought she missed with her ring. Her dagger was quickly taken, she was overpowered.

The monster who hunted single lonely wealthy men was now the prey. Turnabout, and she was never heard from again.

The poison that she had barely scratched him with was slow acting, so he was not able to hunt anymore. He didn't notice it until he was dead. She would be his last; a serial killer taken down by his victim.

End of Gruesome

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