Chapter 7: Satan In the Wait

I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from writing this whatsoever. The Harry Potter franchise is the property of Warner Brother's and J.K Rowling.

A/N:This chapter jumps between months, with the sections from Harry's perspective taking place in early October, while everything from Johnny's perspective happens in the middle of November.

A trigger warning for some graphic violence and description of blood and bile in this chapter.

"No I haven't been using again, Anne, I swear I know what I saw! A guy with a flaming head just went zooming down the street on a motorcycle!"

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"How much longer are we going to keep waiting here?"

Johnny sighed. "Until it shows up, now stop talking, it could hear us."

Tonks shivered a little from where they were standing on the street corner.

"Middle of bloody November and it feels like it's February," she grumbled.

Johnny, who never really got cold nowadays, just shot her a confused look. "Aren't there heating spells?"

Tonks shook her head in defeat, "I'm not any good at them."

They were out in London after reports of people disappearing strangely. No traces most of the time, and the police were stumped. Thankfully, due to the Order's new proactiveness, Moody, who had been out on the streets for the past few weeks, had picked this up.

Short and simple, they were bait. Not effective ones though, it seemed, as they had been waiting there for nearly an hour.

"I say we head back and try again another night, so I can pack some winter clothes for the next time you want me to freeze my arse off out here."

He gave it another minute, before sighing. "Alright, we'll come back another night." His heart wasn't in it anyway.

"Joy," Tonks mumbled, grabbing for his hand and apparating them away.

When they got inside the house, Johnny shot her a dark look. "I was fine with doing this by myself, it's you who insisted you wanted to come. If you don't want to anymore, please say so, I'm not gonna deal with you complaining the whole time."

Tonks raised her hands in defeat as they stepped into the dining room. "No no, I want to help. I'll keep my complaining down to a minimum, promise."

Johnny frowned at how he'd snapped at her. "Thank you," he said.

The truth was, he'd been irritable since what happened in Scrivenshaft's with Hermione. It wasn't fair of him to take it out on Tonks.

"Ahhh, Manchester's monster problem?" Arthur asked far too chipperly, as he sipped his tea at the table.

They only went out after dinner, closer to around ten or eleven at night, so when they got home most of the others were asleep. Though sometimes, like tonight, a few Order members were still up. This time, it was Arthur, Molly - who was sitting in an armchair by the fire and listening to the wireless - and Remus, who sat with Arthur, his own cup of tea in hand.

"Alastor's said he might be able to narrow down a general area by the end of the week," Remus said, "but if the rumors' are true, he thinks it's likely to be a troll."

Johnny shook his head. "Diggle said that a woman who had found the ninth victim heard a voice that couldn't have belonged to a human, muttering; 'after this one, he'll reward me', but troll's can't speak can they?"

Remus looked a little put off by this. "No, they aren't known to," he confirmed, "but then I have no idea what this could be."

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor not knowing about a dark creature?" Sirius teased, entering the room and plopping down beside Tonks and in front of Johnny. "Quite the scholar you are, eh, Moony?"

"Former professor," Remus said lightly, the briefest hint of a smile on his face.

"Anything interesting tonight, Johnny boy?" Sirius asked, turning his attention to him.

"Nah," Johnny said a little bitterly, "thought I might have heard growling at one point, but it went away fast."

"Rotten luck, that," Sirius said.

"Too right," Tonks confirmed sadly, "well, I'll head to bed now, there's an inspection at work tomorrow. Thankfully Umbridge isn't there, it'll probably just be Giannis this time 'round, and she doesn't mind the way I dress. G'dnite." She called, getting up and heading towards the stairs. She had her own apartment, but didn't know how to cook, so most nights were spent here.

"She should still be careful," Molly muttered after her, "Umbridge may not be there, but she and Kingsley are still under watch."

"Don't worry, dear," Arthur said, "Giannis is laid back, it'll go smoothly."

But Molly did not look reassured, and Johnny realized that if they did find whatever monster they were hunting, that Tonks helping him might cause problems for her if the Ministry got involved.


"No, no, that can't be right."

"You're thinking about it too much, trying to force it to work perfectly again like last time. Just let it come naturally."

Harry cursed quietly, and stopped to take a moment.

Tracey, who was sitting next to him, made her intricate miniature monster truck vanish. He was supposed to remove her designs with an untransfiguration spell, which Professor McGonagall said was mildly difficult for something that was not one's own magic.

In the weeks since they'd been paired, she'd begun speaking to him more and more. It was weird, if he was being honest, but when Ron went on and on about how terrible of a partner Parkinson was, Harry didn't feel the need to join in.

The first meeting of Dumbledore's Army was a success. Harry had only taught them the disarming spell, but if he was honest, it was a necessary starting point to see where they were all at. The name was a clever one created by Ginny, though Hermione professed her worry of it being used heavily against them and Dumbledore if they were ever caught.

"Let's try again, yeah?" Tracey asked. "This time, you make the monster truck, and I'll try and remove your designs."

"Alright," he said, not feeling remotely ready.

She got it on her third try.


How did one find a monster? Look within? No, that wouldn't help here.

Two days had gone by, and still, Johnny had no luck. He'd scoured all of Manchester, had broken into many places that were abandoned, and many that were not. Nothing.

"Spare change?" A person sitting on a sidewalk called. They were covered in blankets, and had straw like blonde hair sticking out from under their beanie. Johnny dug his hand into the right pocket of his cargo pants (a new addition to his wardrobe, forced upon him by Tonks), and pulled out a wad of ten dollar bills, and handed it to them.

"These are American..." He heard them mutter as he turned the corner.

"Sorry," he called back, not looking at them, "I'm not from around here."

"No fucking kidd- AIEEE!"

Johnny immediately turned back around.

Nobody was on the sidewalk anymore, the only evidence of human life ever being there was a stray blanket.

But his eyes weren't on the sidewalk at all. The manhole cover was rattling, like someone had entered down it in a hurry.

"Christ," he breathed.

He was going down there, wasn't he?

Yeah, he totally fucking was.

Great.

The smell didn't make him gag, unsurprisingly, he had smelled far worse. Piss and shit was still not something he found pleasant though. There was a long and dwindling looking rope that went down far. And Johnny was now fully appreciating just how fucking big the sewer actually was. It had to be a British thing, right? Ridiculously large sewer systems. The only ones in New York were narrow and uncomfortable, nothing at all like this.

Magic, definitely magic.

There were different levels to the sewer, he noticed as he climbed down the ladder that was just as long as the rope. Is that how they were getting in and out? The rope? Tough on the arms, but if they were magically enhanced, it might not have been a problem. The levels were like different floors, except they all looked the same, flowing shit water with the occasional congregation of rats. The ladder was close enough for him to be able to comfortably get off at any point.

A low growling filled his ears, impossible to tell which way it was coming from. Footsteps that echoed just as much. Water fell from either side of him, and Johnny felt very claustrophobic, like the walls were moving in on him. How long had he been climbing for? It was only a few minutes, he was certain, but the Johnny could no longer see the light provided from the streetlamps at the entrance up top anymore.

And then, quite suddenly, he hit the bottom. Literally.

He wasn't expecting to reach the bottom so soon, and so when his right foot went down for another rung of the ladder, it met the ground instead and he rolled his ankle and fell back. He landed with a hard thud on the concrete, water splashed at him,

"Fuck!" He cried in surprise.

The growling got louder. It sounded like it was right in his ear.

His head burst into flames, and his ankle felt fine now.

Johnny stood up fast, and spun around.

There was nothing.

But everything seemed different. No water, his clothes were dry. Even the way he came down looked different. It suddenly looked more like an actual sewer, and less like the maze it resembled when he first entered. The levels were gone, and it was just walls now. The rope and ladder remained.

This was a rare moment of clarity and control while as the Rider, and of course, it was spent confused as shit in a creepy sewer.

The growling was still there, thankfully no longer right in his ear, but no less easier to discern its direction.

A giant fist caught him in the stomach, sending him flying up into the narrow passageway he came from. It didn't hurt, but the force at which he was hit meant he got stuck at an odd angle, the ladder digging into his side. His sweater was ripped up now, Tonks wouldn't be happy.

He untangled himself with no small amount of effort, and slid down the ladder back to the bottom.

Nothing was there except for a trail of dried blood and bile that he had not noticed before.

His own flaming head lit the way forward, and so he walked.

The blood got less and less dry the further he went. A small scrap of fabric laid damp on the floor. Blood or water, Johnny could not tell. More rats scurried by his feet, careful to avoid him. The walls were clean of any disgusting human excrement, and the tunnel branched off, but the blood trail did not go that way, so neither did he.

He was getting close.

The tunnel opened up into a dome shaped room. There was blood all over the place, both dry and fresh. Scattered papers with unintelligible scribbles.

In the corner, was one of the most confusing thing he had ever seen. It was an amalgamation of green and white skin, mutated and bloated. Whatever it was, it was wearing a loincloth around its waist, and fastening something to a table.

No, someone. There was a person struggling against the creature.

"Wondered when you'd come," it said in a low raspy voice, "thought I'd have more time - but don't we all?" It slammed its hand on the table, eliciting a scream from the other person. "No, we never have enough time, do we?"

Johnny did not respond.

"Thought I'd have more time" it muttered to itself again, before turning around.

It was a grizzly sight, a half-man half-monster combination.

"When I first saw you, I was terrified." It said. "The Dark Lord did not expect you to be so formidable, but when I arrived back at his feet, burnt to a crisp, he smartened up then."

It hit Johnny then, that he knew this person. He was the Death Eater he had encountered when trying to save that little boy. It felt far too long ago.

"I was high up!" He shouted, looking crazed. "I was there when the Dark Lord killed the Potters! Faithfully waiting for his inevitable return. And when it did not happen, I made to go in, but that disgusting half-breed giant showed up, along with Sirius Black, and I was forced to retreat. And now look at me! A monster myself! I thought that if I could make myself better, stronger, taking only the beneficial parts of a troll's genetic makeup, and add it to my own, it'd make my master proud."

He had done this to himself? So incensed and desperate after Johnny had nearly killed him, he had tried to mix his own DNA with that of a troll's?

"But he cast me out! Laughed at me with - with such cruelty! Tortured me until I decided to flee." He then turned to the person strapped down to the table. "But you see, if - if I can just show him the good work I'm doing here, I know he'll come to see the genius of my plan."

"You've been taking homeless off the streets?" Johnny rattled.

"Yes! Exactly! They've thrown their lives away, these muggles, so I've taken them for a bigger and better purpose. The only trouble is the cravings, er, it has been unpredictably hard to not eat them. I've had less and less control as the days go by, this might be my last chance."

He related to that all too well, it felt like any day now he'd lose it again.

"But I've rationed, and the hunger is not all consuming at the moment. I'm thinking clearly, and now, with a refined version of my serum, the Dark Lord will have an army of intelligent and magic using trolls."

The man was insane, but also a genius, that much was clear to him. Whatever he warded the sewers with created a powerful illusion that was only broken by the Rider's true sight, one that could not be fooled. If Johnny hadn't hurt himself and transformed, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't have been seriously hurt beforehand by the Death Eater. That was certainly an unpleasant realization.

"Blackheart may not be here to help me this time," the man said, raising his wand, "but I don't need him."

There was that name again, he'd been hearing it a lot lately.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light shot out of the wand, and Johnny rolled forwards to avoid it, immediately bouncing up to deliver a savage punch to the man's face with his right hand, while moving to disarm him with his left one.

"N-no! You will not win again!"

A large green hand wrapped wailed on his shoulder as Johnny placed him in a choke hold after disposing of his wand.

"This is all your fault! I'll kill you! I swear I will!"

Johnny squeezed harder, the man's eyes bulged in surprise, but it wasn't at the increased force.

His outstretched hand now held his wand again, despite Johnny tossing it away behind him. He'd summoned it wandlessly.

A sick grin made its way onto his face. "I've warded this place so much that not even I can apparate out of here. This will be your tomb!"

"Bombarda Maxima!"

Johnny's vision went white, and he was nearly deafened by the sheer amount of explosions going off in his ear. Rubble fell from all around him, and no small amount of it made contact with his skull. None of it hurt, not even the explosions, and when it was done, he was holding more off a bloody torso than a person anymore. No head, left arm blasted completely off, pretty sure he could almost see his heart too...

If he was able to, he would have thrown up. Instead, he let the body fall to the floor.

The person on the table was dead too, crushed by the falling rubble. There was screaming from the street above.

"Fuck."

Johnny was in so much shit when he got back.


"Brilliant, Susan, keep it up!"

They were practicing disarming, and it was going well. Shockingly so.

Well, actually, there were a decent amount of people here that still needed a lot of work. Neville had only disarmed Harry while he was looking somewhere else, and had not been able to repeat it again with Hermione or Ron. Ernie Macmillan was flourishing his wand a little too much, allowing Terry Boot to disarm him easily. The Creevey brothers, while enthusiastic, caused more harm to the books lining the various shelves than actually disarming each other.

Still though, besides Smith, who was currently having his wand fly out of his hand despite Dean Thomas not saying a word, nobody had seemed put out by the decision to practice the common spell.

He eyed the twins pointedly, who were snickering from their side of the room as they pointed their wands at the Hufflepuff boy. They quickly took on unassuming looks. He shook his head in mild exasperation.

He moved off around the room again, stopping here and there to make suggestions. Slowly the general performance improved. He avoided going near Cho and her friend for a while, but after walking twice around every other pair in the room felt he could not ignore them any longer.

"Oh no," Cho said rather wildly as he approached. "Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I — oh, sorry, Marietta!"

Her curly-haired friend's sleeve had caught fire; Marietta extinguished it with her own wand and glared at Harry as though it was his fault.

"You made me nervous, I was doing all right before then!" Cho told Harry ruefully.

"That was quite good," Harry lied, but when she raised her eyebrows he said, "well, no, it was lousy, but I know you can do it properly, I was watching from over there..."

She laughed. Her friend Marietta looked at them rather sourly and turned away.

"Don't mind her," Cho muttered. "She doesn't really want to be here but I made her come with me. Her parents have forbidden her to do anything that might upset Umbridge, you see - her mum works for the Ministry."

"What about your parents?" Harry asked.

"Well, they've forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too," Cho said, drawing herself up proudly. "But if they think I'm not going to fight You-Know-Who after what happened to Cedric -"

She broke off, looking rather confused, and an awkward silence fell between them; Terry Boot's wand went whizzing past Harry's ear and hit Alicia Spinnet hard on the nose.

After a few more minutes, he checked the time to belatedly realize that they were past curfew. He called the meeting to an end, before taking a moment to announce that the next meeting would be Wednesday, the following week, they dispersed. Harry sent them off in short intervals, groups of two's and three's heading back to their respective common rooms.

"That was really good, Harry!" Hermione said, beaming, it was the happiest he'd seen her since the meeting in the Hog's Head.

"Yeah," Ron agreed as they exited the Room of Requirement, "did you see me disarm Hermione?"

"Only once," Hermione said, looking a little sour.

"It was not once," Ron countered, "it was at least three times!"

"Anyway," Hermione said briskly, turning to Harry, "I overheard some students in the library, talking about how they thought they were going to fail Defence. I was thinking of inviting them for the next lesson, they were young, maybe third or fourth years."

"Anyone we know?" Harry said, still eyeing the Marauder's Map, to make sure Filch wasn't nearby. But when he looked up, Hermione was biting her lip, and he immediately knew he would not like the answer. "Hermione?"

"No," she said finally, "no we don't know them. They're, ah, in Slytherin."

"What?" Ron said loudly, before being hushed by Hermione

"Are you mad?" He whispered, looking at Hermione as if she was a totally different person.

"I am not, Ron," Hermione replied defiantly, "they're just young and afraid of failing, like some of the other members of the DA as well!"

They turned a corner, and started descending a staircase.

"But they're Slytherins," Ron said.

Harry was almost quite keen to agree, but figured that Hermione would not have brought this up if she hadn't at least given it some thought.

"Oh, Ron, they're not bullies, later on, two Ravenclaw boys joined them, Kraja and Perkins" Hermione said. "They're both muggleborn, so at least these three can't be that bad."

Ron, who could not think of anything reasonable to say to that, did not reply, but did look very cross as they found their way to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Valhalla," Hermione said to the portrait of the Fat-Lady, who eyed them disapprovingly.

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione said to him as Ron sat down on a chair near the fire.

"If they're friends with muggleborns," Harry said after a moment, "they're certainly different than most Slytherins."

"And?" Hermione prodded.

"And," Harry continued, "I definitely think that before we invite them, you should keep an eye on them. I don't know how the others will react if we suddenly invite Slytherins in on the second meeting."

Hermione looked happy at that.

"That's not a yes!"


"What the fuck were you thinking?"

"That it's far too cold, I wonder what Florida's like this time of year."

"This is serious, Johnny."

Right. He knew that. Johnny forced himself to look Tonks in the eye.

"An entire block was blown to shit," she went on, looking irate, "hours of paperwork for me alone, and I didn't even bloody do anything! Just showed up and found the mess in the sewers!"

Moody, Sirius, and Remus were there, all looking very much like they also wanted some answers.

"It's a miracle that no muggles died!" Tonks continued. "So you better have a good reason for this!"

"I solved our little monster problem." He said quietly, but Tonks heard it perfectly fine.

"You what?"

"The monster in Manchester, it's dead."

"That's what caused the huge explosion?" Remus asked, his eyebrows raised.

Johnny nodded. "It was a Death Eater that had combined his own DNA with a troll. It didn't really work. He was doing it to create an army of some sort for Voldemort." Everyone had a look of surprise on their faces. "It made him stronger, he summoned his wand to his hand after I had disarmed him already, something you all have already told me is incredibly hard. He's the one who blew the street up to kingdom come. Tried to kill me by blowing me up."

"How did you even survive an explosion like that?" Sirius asked.

He shrugged. "I've been through worse."

An unreadable look came over Remus' face. "He willingly turned himself into a monster?"

"Yeah," Johnny confirmed, "wanted to get stronger so as to prove himself after I burned him alive. He was the same Death Eater I fought before coming here."

"He hurt you plenty then," Moody pointed out.

"He shot a spell into an open wound that some monster gave me," Johnny countered, "I don't think he could have done it alone. But listen, what he said relates to a name I've been hearing. Tonks, you've heard it too."

"I have?" She asked, looking confused.

"Yes, you have." He said. "Blackheart."

"That's the name Spitfire mentioned," she realized.

"I think it's the name of that monster that attacked me before," Johnny said, "it seems to be working with the Death Eaters."

"That's certainly troubling news," Sirius said, "if it can harm you."

"But wait," Tonks said, her brows furrowed in thought, "there was another name... Mephisto?"

He tried to not let it show on his expression, but his pulse quickened, and Johnny had to fight to keep his fists from clenching on instinct.

"I've never heard of it," he said.

"Well," Moody grunted, "minimal damage was done, and that's one less Death Eater as well as a potential army out of the picture now. I can comfortably call this a success."

Sirius nodded. "Despite the unwanted attention, as even the Ministry don't have a clue what's going on, yeah, this is a good thing."

"What are they telling the muggles?" Remus asked Tonks.

"Gas leak," she replied, "a witch who works in the transportation department and lived nearby reported it from her apartment, thank Merlin, I don't trust those muggle healers to help the victims."

"Gas leak always works," Moody said, "bet there's a muggle conspiracy about how it's always a gas leak."

Moody went home after that, having only been there to drop off some dark detectors.

Remus and Sirius went to their respective bedrooms, leaving just Tonks and Johnny alone. There was an uncomfortable silence. He eyed Kreacher as the elf grabbed a locket from the drawer of a cupboard, and wrap it in a dirty rag before wandering off.

Her turquoise colored eyes turned to the small stack of letters left on the windowsill.

"You're pretty popular, huh?" She joked.

He looked at them, before realizing the only person who knew about the letters was Sirius.

"They're just from Hermione," he said dismissively, Johnny hadn't bothered to open any of them, still too bitter about what happened in October. He probably should open them soon, ignoring her didn't make him feel better. Curse him for being mature.

Tonks raised a brow at him.

"It's nothing."

The brow went higher.

"Nothing."

"Alright, alright." She said, raising her hands, but the smile slid off her face, becoming a small frown. He frowned too, what was bothering her?

"Why did you not let me know? About you going out again? I wouldn't have complained about the cold, and I could have helped."

He rubbed his neck. "I didn't want you getting anymore scrutiny at work, in case it came back to you, with your inspection and all that."

"Oh," she said.

"Oh?" He asked.

"I just assumed it was a macho thing," Tonks shrugged.

"I'm not really a 'macho' guy," he scoffed, "well," Johnny rushed to correct himself at the look that Tonks was giving him, "maybe I look a little bit the part, but I certainly don't act it."

"No," she conceded, "no you don't." Tonks fidgeted a little. "And I thought you were still upset at me for putting a little distance between us before."

"Definitely not," he assured her, "we're past that, don't worry."

She looked relieved, and gave him a bright smile. "Great, glad I got that off my chest." She said. "Well, good night."

He bade her goodnight, before heading to his own room. He felt guilty after, for lying about Mephisto. But if he could help it, that was one thing Johnny certainly wasn't going to tell them unless it was absolutely important. Less he heard him. It was odd that Tonks was still afraid about him being upset or something. He thought that they'd settled it with Sirius and their night of eating and laughing by the fire.

"Macho," he scoffed, changing into some nightwear, "I'm not some meathead."

"That remains to be seen, my boy."

Johnny spun around so violently he toppled over.

"Careful now!"

Standing there in an impeccable charcoal suit, a red undershirt, and an evil glint in his eye, was a man. Slicked back hair and a Cheshire grin on his face.

He thought he'd escaped it, Johnny had been so careful to never have to deal with him again. The torment, the false promises, Johnny longed to be free of it. And for about a year, he was, at least directly.

"Lovely to see you, Johnny, my have you grown." He said, looking far too happy.

His heart pounded in his ears, Johnny couldn't find the strength to even stand up.

The devil had found him again.