Disclaimer: I swear I don't own Harry Potter or any related concepts besides any characters not immediately recognizable from JKR's work. Please don't pop my brains with legalese!

Summary: As Harry enters his 6th year, he struggles with the implications of the prophecy and the grief he feels over Sirius' death. And what is the "power the Dark Lord knows not?" What does this new prophecy mean? And who is the Demonslayer? HG, RH, OCOC, Super!OC, independent!OC, notsuperbutprettygood!Harry, notquiteindependentbutsullen!Harry.

Chapter 3: Enter the Demonslayer

Last chapter:

As the unstoppable green light was rushing towards Harry, he closed his eyes and felt out for his friends. In his last moments, his life and regrets began to flash before his eyes.

Back to the story:

Suddenly, a loud thump resounded through the entire house. Before the Killing Curse had covered even half the distance between Bellatrix and Harry, the wall facing the outside burst inwards. As the means of Harry's death impacted harmlessly on some flying rubble, two cloaked and hooded figures stepped through the aftermath of this impact.

"Fools!" shrieked Bellatrix. "How dare you interfere in my killing of this whelp? Who are you?"

"I?" replied the taller of the two figures. "I am the Demonslayer." His voice and stature suggested that he was no older than perhaps twenty-five, but possibly as young as sixteen. His voice, however, exuded an air of power. "And this is my trusty sidekick." Those in the room could feel the glare sent from the shorter one.

"We agreed on comrade, companion, and fellow traveler as my introductions! I explicitly demanded that I not be called sidekick!" This voice was decidedly feminine, but reeked of the same sense of power.

"Hey, I can think of much worse titles than sidekick. You could be lover, consort, etc.," shot back the first one.

"You wouldn't dare," replied the girl, her voice full of friendly venom.

"Hey, I don't have to let you hit me!"

"You've been doing it for years, you will now!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Quiet, fo-!"

"Shut up, Bella! Will not!"

"Will too!"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"Oh, right. Back to the subject at hand. I dare because I could overpower you with a flick of my wrist, Bellatrix Lestrange. You could bring nothing against me that I could not defeat." This came from the male, his voice suddenly switching from childishly argumentative to deadly serious.

"I am the favorite of the Dark Lord! I can beat all wizards but he!" shrieked Lestrange. "None can stand against his might!"

"Well, except us. Either one of us two, really, could take him and all his Death Eaters, in all likelihood. Maybe you'd get a lucky shot in on her, no offense, but there's no way you could handle me."

"No offense taken. You ARE better than me."

"Anyhow, I will not let Harry die until he's done his job. Attempting to kill him while I'm watching is punishable by death."

"You may be full of bravado, fool, but you will eat your words," spat Bellatrix. "A-!"'

Before she could even finish the second syllable of the killing curse, both of the newcomers had drawn katanas and leaped forward. Suddenly, the Demonslayer blurred out of sight, and the girl stopped in her tracks. Gaping holes began to appear in the Death Eaters until only Bellatrix was left, not even having finished the "Avada." Suddenly, she felt a sharp prick on the back of her neck and stopped in shock.

"H-how?" stammered Bellatrix. "How are you that fast?"

"That's for me to know," said the boy in a deathly calm voice. "And for you to die wondering." And before anything else could be said, Bellatrix Lestrange gained a new steel growth from her neck.

As all this was occurring, the girl had doubled back and heaved Dudley's body off of Harry with relative ease.

"There you go, Potter. Anyone else in the house that we need to take care of?"

"T-two men, unconscious downstairs," stuttered Harry. He'd met the DS who'd sent him his katana and wakazashi, but Harry was was appalled at the raw speed exhibited by the Slayer. As the girl made her way downstairs to deal with the remaining Death Eaters, the Demonslayer began to speak.

"Yes, Harry, I'd be afraid, too. Trust me. I WAS afraid when I first found out that I could do that. It was right in the middle of one of my toughest fights ever, right as I was about to die. Just blinked out of the way of an attack and was doing that without knowing how until I gained control. It was a loooooong fight." Now Harry was torn between fear and awe at the way a man so young could shrug off killing eight Death Eaters as if it were nothing.

"Dealt with!" came the voice, echoing up the stairs.

"Oops, sorry, Harry. Gotta get outta here. Keep holding onto those blades, and don't blame yourself for people around you dying! It's a war, it happens!" And just as quickly as Harry's savior had come, he left. Harry fell onto his rear and just sat, amazed and awed and the display of raw power and carelessness he had just witnessed.

About 30 seconds after the short battle, Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, and Arthur Weasley burst into number 4 Privet Drive. They walked slowly up to Harry's room, trying as best they could to brace themselves for the worst. They had already seen Petunia and Vernon Dursley dead in their sitting room with not a mark on them. When they entered Harry's room, the last thing they had expected to see was Harry sitting in the middle of the floor with a sword and a dagger and Death Eater bodies strewn about and the body of his cousin lying face down by the door. Remus burst in and hugged Harry, crying tears of joy at seeing his best friend's son still alive after so many had felt his magic prepare for death.

"Harry!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Did you do this?"

"No," replied Harry slowly. "This was the work of the Demonslayer." At this, Dumbledore started.

"The Demonslayer?" he murmured. "Could it be...?" At this the old headmaster shook his head. "Did you see this Harry?"

"Yes," said Harry shortly. He then began to relate his story.

"Wait, Harry," interrupted Dumbledore. "Are you saying that there was only a dull thump, and then this whole wall blew open? The entire thing?"

"Yes. That's the only thing I heard," said Harry before he continued.

"A young man and a young woman" said Dumbledore, interrupting once again. "Did they have any accenting to their voices?"

"Now that I think of it, they were decidedly American sounding."

"Ah. Please continue."

"Wait. He blurred out of sight? Are you sure he wasn't Apparating?"

"I'm positive, sir. That was the weirdest thing about his whole attack. It was completely and totally silent except for the death cries and such. His movements were entirely unpredictable and silent."

"That's... appalling. Well, that's all I have for questions. Now, Harry, you obviously can't live here anymore, so you'll be moving to Headquarters. Are you alright with that?"

"Oh, yes, that's fine."

"Are you sure it won't bring up any bad memories or anything?" asked Remus apprehensively.

"Well, I suppose I'll feel grief and such, but I don't really feel any guilt anymore."

"What? What made your guilt suddenly disappear?" asked Dumbledore. This was the quickest case of recovery from false guilt he'd ever said.

"It was the last thing the Slayer said to me. He said 'Don't blame yourself for people around you dying! It's a war, it happens!' and I realized that was true. It is a war, and i can't take the blame for every single casualty, no matter how important I may be to the war effort. Something in how he said it made it seem like he understood. It was weird."

"Alright then, Harry," said Arthur. "I think it's time for you to get going. Here's some Floo Powder. Gather your stuff and head on over to Headquarters, okay?"

"Alright, Mr. Weasley."

After Harry had put together his trunk, he took a pinch of Floo Powder.

"Order Headquarters!" shouted Harry, and he disappeared in a plume of green flames.

A/N: Well, that was an interesting chapter. I love those two characters of mine. I hope you will too.