This was written as a healing process of sorts, which I thoroughly needed after browsing the relevant entries on the HMS STFU. The Sue in question is, of course, Rose Potter. The OC featured is a character I worked on for an original novella.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related trademarks belong to JK Rowling. Rose Potter belongs to the S/H/I/T who created her. This isn't an insult to the creator of RP, simply my way of dealing with the S/H/I/Ts stunning and utter lack of talent. Enjoy.
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The Scottish highlands had always been his real home, come hell or high water. It didn't matter how many centuries he'd been spending on either the godforsaken fortress on Pluto, or fighting for mankind's survival on every desolate corner of the earth. Not that he complained, mind you. If he died something much worse was waiting for him. The man in question was a tall man going by Duncan. Most of his clothing and physical stature was obscured by the brown trench coat and small backpack he wore. Only his rugged boots showed.
He was walking by the shore of a great lake. The air was chilly and the wind made his coat flap. His blue eyes stopped on a derelict ruin on the far end of the lake. He reached up and ran a hand through his shoulder-long brown hair and halted. This was the place they'd agreed to meet. A sharp crack suddenly came from next to him. His left hand flew to the knife hidden in his coat.
"No need for that, Mr. McLeod," A voice chuckled. "I assure you I´m not dangerous."
"Heard that before," Duncan grumbled and pulled his hand back. "Hello, Albus." The bespectacled man nodded inn greeting.
"You are familiar with the mission, yes?" Dumbledore asked. Duncan nodded. Pose as a teacher and terminate Rose Potter. Her nudist friends would be dealt with simultaneously by some friends of his; sporting enough military-hardware to make the entire NRA wet their pants.
"I am," Duncan nodded. "It shouldn't be too much trouble, she's only human."
"Be careful," Dumbledore warned. "She twists and manipulates the reality around her, bending everything and everyone to her will."
"Not if she's dead," Duncan smiled. "And it's only when she's around?"
"Correct. Otherwise they act like the people I've known for years," Dumbledore said. "If you could hold on to my arm, please." He offered the aforementioned limb. Duncan took it and both men disappeared. Duncan felt his stomach lurch and had to swallow hard to avoid puking. They reappeared with a sharp crack in Hogsmeade, just outside the Three Broomsticks. Duncan released Dumbledore's arm, swearing under his breath. He loathed apparition with the passion of a burning sun, no matter how similar it was to the teleporter he used to get to the meeting spot.
"When and where will my first class start?" He asked. He wouldn't be staying at the castle the first night, instead staying in the small village to figure out a plan.
"Eight O'clock, room 207 on the second floor," Dumbledore said. "And if you'll excuse me, I have a feast to attend." He disappeared again. Duncan entered the Three Broomsticks and, after speaking to Madam Rosmerta, was given a key and directions to his room. The room was small and sparingly decorated. With a heavy sigh he sat down on the bed.
"Catherine?" He asked, seemingly out loud. White-noise suddenly filled his left ear for a second, until a female voice answered. They were using a device fitted to the left side of the skull, the vocal cords, parts of the brain, the eardrums and replaced the left eye with a mix of nanotechnology and organics. It was for all intents and purposes a computer. Dumbledore had placed a charm on it, making sure that it wouldn't malfunction the moment he entered the grounds.
"Are you there?" Catherine asked. A small portrait and an outlandish numeral appeared in the lower left side of his vision, identifying the woman.
"I'm in the village," Duncan said. "I'll see the target tomorrow. What about you?"
"We're in position. Just say the words," Catherine snickered. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night." The white noise returned briefly and then disappeared. He spent the rest of the night, with the exception of two hours of troubled sleep, debating ways of getting Rose Potter in a situation where they'd be alone. Cutting her throat in front of a class would be a tad over the top. The Forbidden Forest should be the ideal place and getting her there wouldn't be hard. The girl would probably land in detention on her first lesson given what he'd been told about her.
At half-past-seven the next morning he started walking up to the castle and arrived by the classroom five minutes prior to the lesson. He was still wearing his rugged and worn travelling clothes. Rose Potter was giving him a calculating look, which he returned with a hint of venom. According to Dumbledore she would sense he wasn't human, due to the massive flux of energy and magic around him. He walked inside and slumped down in the chair behind the teacher's desk and hung the coat over the chair, revealing a plain black T-shirt.
"I'm Duncan," he said. "Call me Professor and I'll give you detention. Are we clear?" The class mumbled in the affirmative. "Good. Wands won't be used and we'llfocus on things you've never heard of before." Murmurs swept through the class, some excited and some surprised. "Demons, the Immaterium and how they relate to our universe." He was well aware that the students wouldn't know about it, only very few wizards did, but he didn't know where else to start. And if Dumbledore was correct, Rose Potter might just catch bait.
"There are no such things as demons," Rose Potter said patronizingly. "And the Immaterium you speak of doesn't exist." Duncan gave a grin. Lady Luck was with him.
"First of all, Miss Potter," Duncan said. "I´m your teacher, don't patronize me. You haven't earned the right. If I say it exists, then it does. I could say I was a pink and homicidal baby seal in disguise and I'd be right."
"I dueled with Voldemort!" She narrowed her eyes. "I've got more right than anyone in the school. Demons are only bed-time stories told to small children and this Immaterium is only a fantasy." The students around her cowered slightly, knowing she was angry. Duncan could feel the raw energy swirling around the girl.
"Shut up and calm down," Duncan countered with a smile. "It doesn't matter whom you dueled, in here you do as I say." He was actually enjoying himself. Maybe kids weren't so bad after all.
"Then I won't be in here," Rose retorted and stood up. Duncan waved the fake wand he´d been given towards the door. It slammed shut with a bang.
"Detention with me," Duncan said. "Every night this week at eight in my office, without a wand. If you leave you'll fail this course and lose fifty house points. Sit down, Miss Potter." She glared at him in an attempt to make him cower. He stared back serenely and gestured to her chair. With anger so strong you could almost touch it she sat down again.
"If you're not a muggle with a terrible sense of style, then what are you?" Rose asked venomously. Duncan smiled.
"Your teacher," he said. "And you better remember it." She glared with even more ferocity, and Duncan could feel the air in the room being saturated with magic. He glanced around the room, eyeing the other students. "Well then, if Miss Potter is satisfied with her juvenile tantrum, let's begin." He sat down on the chair behind the desk. "I'd start taking notes if I were you."
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Duncan entered his office muttering curses and death threats under his breath. During the last class he´d decided that his earlier opinion of children was very wrong. Torch the lot and he´d be sitting by the flames with marshmallows and giggle. Especially the white-haired nancy-boy. He´d come close to burning the entire class to embers and then dance over the still smoking remains. He walked over to the bag, opened it and started rummaging around. At first he only threw T-shirts over his shoulder, but then a wide grin split his face. He picked up a set of hira shurikens; wrapped in protective fabric. The pile of weapons next to the bag grew as he added a Bowie knife with a serrated blade in a scabbard, a set of four throwing knives wrapped in protective cloth, a wakizashi in a scabbard, a small Beretta pistol and two small bottles; one labelled curare and one with writing in an alphabet resembling a mix of Greek and Cyrillic (the name of the poison was pronounced acheron). Acheron was a rather nasty poison, it slowed the bleeding, heightened the senses and made sure the victim wouldn't pass out.
He applied the poison. Curare on the wakizashi and the Acheron on the throwing knives, shurikens and the Bowie knife. Once that was finished he made sure the weapons would be concealed within his coat and fitted the wakizashis scabbard and Beretta holster to the belt around his waist. He gave a mental command and spoke.
"I'll move out in a two-and-a-half hours," He said. Catherine's portrait and numeral flashed, and her voice responded immediately.
"Took you long enough," She huffed. But despite the harshness of her voice, she was probably smiling on the other end. The two were long-time friends (and occasional lovers).
"Shut up," he retorted, smiling. "You've not dealt with these damn kids all day, cut me some slack. What kind of ordnance do you have?"
"Three Starfire cruisers in orbit," Catherine said with slight awe in her voice. Duncan grinned widely, happily imagining thousands of lethal laser-bursts pounding those damn New-agers into the ground. A Starfire cruiser was a medium-sized spaceship crammed full with energy weapons, accurate enough to destroy a target the size of a small apartment building with minimal collateral damage.
"Once they turn Westron Forest and Ardgarten Forest to charred wastelands we move in and check for survivors," she finished. "You know what to do?"
"Mostly," Duncan answered with a shrug. "I've got both acheron and curare on me, thinking about using both." Catherine chuckled.
"Not that fond of her, are you?"
"She's a bitch. And I've never met anyone more deserving than her," Duncan grumbled. "First time I'll actually enjoy killing a psionic. Just be ready in a few hours." Psionic was a term for someone with the ability to shape and influence reality however they wished. Nine out of ten were assassinated as soon as they emerged, and the others were either recruited or they went rogue.
"Will do," Catherine answered. The signature white noise appeared as both radios turned off. Duncan made one last check on the weapons and removed the safety on the Beretta. He flicked a small switch on the pistol and a crosshair and ammunition counter appeared in the upper left corner of his vision. Satisfied with the results, he holstered it again.
Rose Potter appeared on time, looking like she wore the school robes. Duncan guessed she also had a wand hidden on her. It didn't matter, he could take her. In a few minutes Westron Forest and Ardgarten Forest would be destroyed and Hogwarts after fifteen minutes unless he called in.If both he and Hogwarts had to be sacrificed it was worth it.
"What are you?" Rose asked, entering the office. She noticed the short sword and pistol on his belt, and suspicion was evident on her face. "You practically ooze of magic, so you're no muggle."
"Your teacher," Duncan said. "We'll be doing your detention in the Forbidden Forest. Hence these," he gestured to his visible weapons. "Follow me." He walked past her and out the hallway. She caught up easily. Duncan could feel the girl's power slowly nagging at his mind the moment they were a few meters from the castle doors. They passed Hagrid´s hut without any problems. Do I really have to kill her? He suddenly thought. Just because she's a psionic doesn't…
He shook his head viciously. She was starting to affect him. He squeezed the handle of his wakizashi hard and kept his eyes firmly forward. He could still feel how she tried to change his mind. Briefly Duncan wondered whether it was intentional or not, but decided to ignore it.
"What are you?" Rose Potter growled. "As a student I have the right to know." Duncan gave a loud growl. If she wanted to know, he'd show her. Though he would wait until they were deeper in the forest. If a student or faculty member disturbed them he'd be forced to shoot them, and that wasn't a part of the mission.
"I'll tell you soon," Duncan growled. Rose suddenly spun around and leapt at him, unleashing a barrage of punches and kicks. Duncan deftly dodged. She spun around a second time and attacked again. Once again Duncan dodged.
"Do we really have to do this?" He asked. "I'm going to kill you anyway. Either dead, or exhausted and dead. I can do it both ways." With the speed of a cobra he struck out with his right leg, hitting the girl square in the chest. He could hear at least two ribs breaking. She keeled over, wheezing and struggling for breath.
"What are you?" She hissed. Duncan grabbed her roughly by the throat and lifted her in the air. Anger was evident on his face, anger and exasperation. She desperately fought against his grip, clawing and kicking.
"I'm fire in the flesh," he growled. "An elemental, if you wish. Though Avatar is the correct name." He threw her towards the edge of the forest. She struck a thick tree and slumped down.
"There's no such thing…" Rose gasped, standing up. "You're lying. I'm a druid." She charged him, aiming a kick against his throat. Duncan sidestepped, drew his sword and countered, cutting a wide wound across her back. She spun and fired a spell. The night seemed bright as day as the shining, large ball of magic flew at him. Duncan gracefully sidestepped it.
"You're so outmatched it's not even funny," he said. "And believe me; I have a very macabre sense of humour."
"I've fought Voldemort, liar." Rose growled. "You'll be no problem!" She made a casual move with her hand and four wolves sprang from the forest, jaws wide open. Duncan upholstered the Beretta and fired twice before Rose could react. The girl fell to the ground with a pitiful scream, both kneecaps shattered beyond any hope of recovery. A wall of white-hot fire sprung up around the wolves, turning them into charred bones and ash in an instant. Duncan lowered the wakizashi and holstered the pistol. His free hand closed around another shuriken and threw it. It embedded itself in Rose's shoulder with a sickening crack. She let out another small scream. The avatar deftly drew a third throwing knife from within his coat and nonchalantly threw it between his hands.
"Where should I use this one, then?" He asked. "Carving bitch in your forehead would be both fitting and enjoyable. Although it should really be Ron who does that." Rose frantically shook her head.
"He betrayed me! He betrayed our friendship!" She protested angrily. "I had every right to do what I did!" Duncan rolled his eyes and deftly threw the knife. The heavy-bladed throwing knife smacked into the girl just below her waist.
"Temper…," Duncan chided. "You've got two different poisons flowing through your veins. You will be dead in under a minute." He walked over to her and squatted by her side. Rose attempted to punch him again, but to no avail. Duncan easily caught her fist and squeezed. Rose's fingers broke with a series of sounds like when you snap a twig in half, eliciting a primal and tearful scream from the girl.
"How…" She said weakly. She was on the verge of fainting from blood loss but the acheron in her body wouldn't let her. "Void…"
"As I said," Duncan shrugged. "You're human. And a bitchy, narcissistic, borderline-psychopathic one. Same goes for your friends, all of whom were reduced to ashes a few minutes ago." Rose sobbed again. It was like music to his ears.
"How could you know?" She wheezed. Blood was pouring out of her mouth. "We didn't…"
"Yes you did," Duncan growled. "You were a threat to everything in this dimension, a fucking bitch and frankly an all around horrible person." He viciously pulled out his throwing weapons. He stood up and gave the dying girl a last glare. She was wheezing and muttering incoherently, eyes gazing towards the starry sky and slowly glazing over.
"No survivors on our end," Catherine suddenly declared. Duncan jumped and blinked in surprise. "Duncan?" The male avatar gave Rose a hard kick in the side, making sure the girl wasn't playing possum. There was no reaction so he started walking up towards the castle.
"She's gone," he reported. "Meet you outside the venue tomorrow?"
"Duh. I'm not missing an Iron Maiden concert."
"Then I bid you goodnight."