Rain poured down London's streets, the night lamps barely giving off any real light as she walked down the pavement. There was no lightning or thunder tonight, just torrents of dark rain falling down upon her.
Amoura Zabini pulled her cloak closer as she looked around, each light giving her what it could in this downpour. She felt her guns' cool handle press against her upper breast, digging into her skin as she held her arms closer to her body. Playing the victim in the cold night, alone and afraid. A shadow moved, flickering in the light of a street corner.
She smiled internally, finding her prey ahead. Tonight, she had them right where she wanted them. Amoura closed in, sticking to the shadows as she heard voices get louder and sharper. One of them hissed, feminine and hungry.
"I'm hungry! Feed me!" it hissed, barely above a sensual whisper.
"Quiet," A gruff man snapped, "You keep your mouth shut or you won't be getting the man's children, ya hear me?"
"Yesss…" The voice replied, subdued and much more quiet.
Amoura peeked out around the corner, doing her best to not be seen by the faulty lights of the street lamps. Ahead was a group of people, four men and a very pale woman. A vampire, Amoura thought, noticing the fangs in her mouth dripping water from the downpour.
The group moved, ignoring the state the woman was in as they moved towards one of the high class buildings in upper London. Amoura followed as she listened, making sure to stay out of the starved dark creature's range.
"Now, the plan is this," The man in charge said, the one with the gruff voice, "We go in, capture the head of police and force him to watch his youngest be devoured by lil' Lacy here."
He jabbed his thumb at the vampiress, who didn't react. Hunger was driving her on, the promise of food was too much to deny for her. Amoura frowned, trying to figure out who sent these goons into the Potter turf. They weren't regulars either, that was for sure. A new criminal boss maybe?
"Once the kid is a vampire," The man continued, "or dead, either way, we get our demands in then leave. Simple as that, nothing messy tonight."
The others nodded, while Lacy was very quiet, shadowlike as she stood there. The five moved on as Amoura frowned, thinking back on what she did know:
First, this group knew about the magical world and its darker aspects. Second, the boss must be someone good at capturing or using dark creatures, as a vampiress this starved wouldn't obey without good cause to do so. Thirdly, they must be fresh or didn't know about the Potters yet. She would rectify that soon.
Amoura followed them before apparating silently to the top of the building where the Police chief resided. The chief was single, only had one son and the wife mysteriously vanished several weeks ago.
Amoura felt her frown deepen as facts started coming together like a puzzle, one that painted a rather dreadful picture. Seems the chief may have gone and done something to these upstarts that caused them to take his wife, and if Amoura had to guess, Lacy was that wife.
She pulled her gun from its sheath as she heard the commotion down under her, her grip tightening on her Luger's handle before she acted. She swung herself over the edge and smashed through the window, catching the group off guard.
Perfect, she thought, before turning two goons into cadavers. As their bodies dropped, she twisted around and took out the legs of the third goon. His heart stopped beating as she took him out with another single shot, before she felt the barrel of a gun press into her neck.
"Well, well, well," The boss of the group said. Amoura could clearly hear the venom in his rough voice, "Seems like the boss's guess hit the nail on the head. You did show up."
"Sorry to spoil your fun, but I don't see you leaving anytime soon." Amoura retorted dryly.
The man chuckled before gagging, Amoura looked over and smiled as the vampiress had sunk her fangs into the man's neck. Blood drizzled slowly from the neck wounds but the man dropped his gun as he was drained of his vital liquids.
Lacy kept drinking, even as a little boy rushed up and hugged her leg tightly. Amoura slowly got up and hostlered her gun, watching as Lacy lowered a hand and used it to slowly rub the boy's head. The boy was shaking and his soft tears could be heard as Lacy finally dropped the drained corpse to the floor.
"Foolish man," She hissed before crouching down and pulling the boy against her, "No one harms my son."
Amoura noticed there was another body on the ground - the chief hadn't made it…
That was a shame, but the Potters could handle another chief what was put in. The dark skinned witch looked at the Vampiress, before motioning out the window.
"I can give you a place to live and work to do," She said, causing the Vampire to tilt her head, "but that's up to you, Lacy."
Lacy bared her teeth before closing her mouth, her predatory silver white eyes watching her as she pressed a kiss into her son's brow. Slowly, the woman nodded before tightening her hold on her son.
"Lead on, Miss, we have nothing here left. His father refused to 'coddle' my son or give him any childhood."
Amoura nodded before shooting the boss of the gang, healing the fang wounds with her wand before apparating all three of them out of the apartment.
The next morning announced the death of the Police Chief and a group of gangsters. All of them were found dead near the docks and the police refused to comment on the matter.
If Amoura knew how to do anything very well, it was pushing people to do better. At least, that was what Harry felt as he got pulled up from the floor after the tenth time on it.
Today was magical training, something he had a great deal of since he arrived here at the headquarters of the Potter Family Business. It was only a month before September and he was already starting to feel the burn of the training that Amoura was pushing him through: physical, mental, magical, it didn't matter, he went through it. He had his magical and mundane knowledge tested and expanded by multiple teachers and Amoura herself.
Harry also had to train with his three serpent familiars; The Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets named Cliodha and the mated pair of Egyptian Flame Cobra's.
The Flame Cobras were massive serpents that came from when Egypt was ruled by their Gods, used by the most royal of magical guards of the Pharaohs. Both serpents were heavily armored, their scales were able to reflect most spells and tank massive amounts of punishment from mundane weaponry. He also learned that the black Flame Cobra was the female and the white one was the male - a balance of nature.
Cliodha was even larger than both those serpents, having only gotten bigger in the thousand years under Hogwarts castle. Despite having the most potent venom on earth and a gaze that could kill instantly, Cliodha had a false pair of eyelids that blocked the killing gaze. This allowed her to use her immense body and near godly strength freely. All three would hide themselves as highly detailed tattoos on his body; Cliodha across his back and the mated pair of Flame Cobra's would be on his palms and wrap up his arms.
Harry readied himself again, wand in hand before he dropped the wand. He felt something akin to a bite, like his hand was being torn off by some ravenous beast. He looked at the wand and saw it burn up, leaving a red and gold feather in its wake. Amoura walked up and looked at the remains before nodding to herself.
"Thought as much," She said before looking at someone, who saluted and ran off, "Without your scar connecting you and Tom Riddle, or as everyone else cringes at, Lord Voldemort, your wand won't work."
Harry blinked in confusion at his Godmother, who was wearing a tight top that held her huge bust in place. Skin tight training shorts and dark socks finished off the outfit. Her wand was in her right hand, her wand was Palm and Sequoia tree wood with a heartstring of a sea serpent wrapped in the hair of a mermaid. She looked calm and beautiful, causing his mind to wonder for the umteenth time.
"Focus Harry," Amoura's amused voice said, as she purposefully put an arm under her huge bosom, "Not me, the problem at hand."
Harry tried, he really tried, but he failed. This causes Amoura to chuckle and entrap him in a sudden hug, face-first in her cleavage.
"You silly boy, you," She teases before letting go, "Now, we have to get you a new wand."
"New wand? Can't we go back to Ollivanders?" Harry asked, frowning.
"No, Ollivanders wouldn't do you any good now, since most of his wands are pre-made or gotten from other wand crafters across the world as Britain don't have all the required materials to make them." Amoura explained as the guard and a woman that looked to be in her fifties came in, "So, we need a specialist."
The woman walked up and looked Harry over before saying in a sharp and rather thick Russian accent, "So, you are Harry Potter? You need more food in you. Nothing but skin and bones you have."
Harry felt very flat footed, "Uhm...ok?"
The woman shook her head, "I am Nechayeva Selena Kirillovna, I have been crafting wands for nearly one hundred and fifty years. I expect the same reverence from my wand as you would anything you own, am I understood, Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded, realizing this woman was older than she appeared, "Y-yes, Ma'am."
"Very well then," Nechayeva pulled out a simple box and held it out to him, "Put your hand upon this and push your magic into it. Your wood or woods will appear in the box once complete."
Harry obeyed, putting his hand on the box before pushing his magic into it. He felt his magic get pulled into the box then something pulled out three different objects before shoving his hand away violently.
"Ow!" He yelped as his hand felt like it had been burnt.
Nechayeva frowned but uponed the box, looking at the woods, "Hmmm, Douglas Fir, Old Russian Oakland Wood and wood from the fabled Yggdrasil tree."
Harry blinked, "Wait, that tree exists?"
The Russian wand crafter gave him a look, "The tree exists, but the properties mythology gave it? Don't be absurd, the tree itself is old. Old as the first man on this world but not connecting those supposed Nine Realms of Norse Mythology. The tree has survived through many ages and only grew more magically in strength until it could not die by normal means."
She then closes the lid, before nodding to Harry again, "Again with the core of your wand, same as before."
Harry did it again and this time, to his relief, didn't have his arm nearly ripped off. Nechayeva opened it and nodded in approval.
"Griffon Feather, from the Elder Clutch of Romania, I believe. Basilisk Heartstring, quite a rare core but it is one. Finally, this." She held up what looked like a long thin metal needle, "The spinal hair of a Nexu Panther, found only on the island off of Madagascar."
Harry blinked, "So, what does this all mean exactly?"
Nechayeva snorted, "Your wand is different, it is a loyal but swift weapon. It will give you strength when you have none, you will never find a more loyal tool in your arsonal than this. Wands chose the wizard or witch for a reason, Mr. Potter. They are great tools that can lead to a life of greatness or darkness, but it all depends on who wields it. Now, I must go to my workroom. This wand will not craft itself."
She turned and marched out of the room, leaving Amoura and Harry alone. Harry looked at his Godmother then motioned to her wand.
"Did she craft your wand?"
Amoura nodded, "She did indeed. In fact, most people in the business have Nechayeva's crafted wands. While many of them don't have multiple woods or cores, each wand fits the person perfectly. My wand from Ollivanders felt good, but once I had my real wand, I felt my magic sing and dance inside of myself. You will probably feel the same, but now you have homework to finish, Harry."
Harry groaned as he was sent off to get his homework for Hogwarts finished.