Chapter 11: Merry Christmas

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.

"Johnny I ain't gettin' you a Nintendo. I make money, yes, but most of that money goes into school for you and James... No, you can't get a motorcycle either, I respect your mother's wishes too much to get you something like that."

"He means he's too scared to, honey."

- Crash Simpson, Mona Simpson, and Johnny Blaze. Hell's Kitchen, New York, December 18th, 1990

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"I SAW THREE SHIPS COME SAILING IN ON CHRISTMAS DAY!"

It'd only been a day, one full day after he woke up, feeling sore but alive, and Sirius was already back to singing those annoying carols.

Johnny groaned as he sat up from his bed and walked over to the door.

"Sirius!" He shouted as he opened his bedroom door. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

There was a pause, in which Johnny had believed Sirius heard him.

"I SAW THREE SHIPS COME SAILING ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE MORNING."

He swore loudly, and a low chuckle came from his left. It was Tonks, coming out from her room looking tired and whose hair was a mousy brown.

"First Christmas back with him, should have known it'd go like this."

Johnny scowled. "It better not last the rest of the month."

"Oh, it will," she said, smiling slightly, "just have to suffer through it. Don't worry, it was worse when we were kids, my mum was downright murderous every time it happened."

"Can't imagine why," he said sarcastically.

It was silent for a bit, Sirius' singing got a little quieter presumably as he went farther upstairs. Tonks was dressed in matching sky blue shorts and a tank top. He averted his eyes.

Figuring it was better to just go downstairs now that he was awake, Johnny quickly put on some deodorant purchased from a nearby corner store, and started to make his way. Tonks joined him in the kitchen barely a minute after with the same clothes on, but now looking much more awake, with cyan hair to go with her nightwear.

"How long until you think he runs out of carols?" He asked her as she made herself tea.

She laughed. "Never."

Fine. That was fine. At least it was an improvement from the constant moping, though that still came back from time to time.

A few of the ornaments on the tree glared at him. Some of the miniature gnomes flipped him off.

Charming.

Just then, the front door opened as the entire Weasley family, including Harry, who had probably just woken up and come downstairs, arrived.

Molly rushed in, ignoring Mrs. Black's shrieks, to hug him, basically pulling him out of his seat.

"When we heard, well, we didn't know what to think! What exactly happened?"

She released him, and Sirius made his way down the stairs, shutting up his mother as he went. Harry looked very pale as he looked away.

"A snake attacked me," he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. He wasn't used to this kind of affection. "Wasn't paying attention like I should have been, and it snuck up on me."

It was dead, he knew, the ashes, though confused him then, made sense now. He'd burned it while as the Rider. A fleeting image of Mephisto waving his hand at him before disappearing reemerged in his mind. Had he made Johnny transform? If so, Mephisto had saved his life, and Johnny wasn't okay with having that hang over his head.

Molly smiled at him, while Arthur clapped him on his arm. "At least you're alright," he said warmly.

Johnny felt distinctly uncomfortable. He hadn't had someone worry about him like this in well over a year.

"We're all glad he is," Sirius said as he entered the room. The Weasley kids moved off to set up their rooms as he did.

"Yeah," Tonks said, her smirk looking a little forced to him, "we need someone to be our resident brooder now that Sirius has turned over a new leaf."

There it was. He made a face and a rude gesture at her when Molly's back was turned. She returned them in kind, if half-heartedly.

Breakfast went on smoothly from there, though Harry steadfastly refused to look anywhere in Johnny's general direction.

Sirius had told him about Harry's vision, but it really wasn't something to beat himself up about. He couldn't control it, as far as Johnny knew. If Harry could, he wouldn't, unless he had some sort of vendetta Johnny didn't know about.

Tonks tapped his shoulder as he made to go to his room.

"What's up?"

She looked around to make sure nobody was nearby.

"Was thinkin' about going out to buy some last minute presents." Tonks said.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "No money, remember?"

She waved a hand at him. "We'll just say it's from the both of us."

"Sure," Johnny shrugged, "let me get changed."

He was still dressed in a plain grey shirt and checkered cotton pants gifted to him by Sirius, being something that used to belong to his brother. Johnny's somewhat signature leather jacket, black jeans and white shirt combo was cleaned thanks to Kreacher, who delivered the clothes with no small amount of grumbling the night before.

"Okay," he called as he exited his room, "I'm ready."

Tonks came out from her room at his words, changed as well into her own signature punk look, a bright pink bob on her head.

"Brilliant," she said, turning her head to the side and shouting; "Oi! We're going out!"

The Knight Bus shook violently every few seconds, and when they made turns, Hermione was sure that they'd end up careening through a building. They nearly did too, narrowly missing a post office and then a bank three turns later. Ernie, the driver, expertly - and Hermione used that term lightly - steered them back to safety.

She still clutched the letter she'd gotten from Fawkes. Dumbledore was very concise, and Hermione apologized profusely to her parents, but she had to go to Grimmauld Place. A skiing trip was hardly important to her now.

The bus lurched sideways again, and Hermione grimaced. Her stomach couldn't take much more of this. Crookshanks hissed from his cage, and she stuck a foot out to the side to stop her luggage from sliding away.

Finally, mercifully, it was over. The Knight Bus came to a sudden and heart stopping halt, and the doors opened.

"Number Eleven, Grimmauld Place," the conductor called, looking bored. Obviously, with the Fidelius, she couldn't give him the actual address.

Hermione grabbed her things and made her way off the bus, staggering a little as she stepped onto the concrete from the semi high up lift. For her, of course, number twelve was clearly visible, and Hermione walked towards the steps. The door was closed, and so she knocked. The warm smile of Professor Lupin greeted her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, "come in."

She did, a million questions running through her mind, but she bit her lip, trying her best from asking them out at alarming speed.

"Johnny is alright," he told Hermione as he grabbed her trunk, walking towards the room she shared with Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen, and they greeted her kindly. "A little tired, but otherwise fine, which, I must say, is a miracle."

Of course he'd know, she thought ruefully, no doubt he saw the stack of letters piling up for Johnny. But if he was fine, where was he...?

"They're out right now," Professor Lupin said, correctly guessing what she was thinking yet again. "He and Tonks. Last minute Christmas shopping, I suspect."

That sounded like Tonks alright.

They set up her stuff in the room, and Ginny, who excitedly rushed towards her when Hermione entered, helped out as well. When that was done, there was still one more important thing she had to take care of.

"Where's Harry?"

"What do you think?"

Johnny gave her a once over. She was wearing a Mrs. Claus outfit that was a little revealing, to put it politely.

"A little much," he said lightly, pointedly not looking at her legs.

"Look at you, trying not to peek," she snickered.

Johnny looked away, vaguely annoyed. "I thought we were shopping for gifts?"

The shop they were in was wedged in between two other, larger stores, but it was still filled with people. It was a seasonal thing, he supposed. Johnny wouldn't be surprised to find out that when Easter rolled around, the store would be nearly unrecognizable by then.

"We already got most of it," she said motioning to the two stuffed plastic bags, "this is just for fun, I'm not actually going to buy it."

He didn't really get why she'd try it on then, but wisely held his tongue.

With a well hidden wave of her wand, the outfit was back on its hanger and replaced by Tonks' actual clothes faster than he could register.

They'd gotten Remus some clothes, as well as a book on world history. Molly a professional knitting kit. Arthur a royal knights castle Lego set, after Johnny remembered hearing him rave about it to a confused Sirius one night. For the twins, Johnny also had the idea to get them fake shock gum, thinking it'd give them some fun ideas for their little snackboxes that Hermione mentioned in a disapproving letter. Tonks had already prepared a gift for Ginny via owl order, which just seemed a little odd to him, weren't owls the slowest birds?

Harry was a tricky one, but Sirius had apparently mentioned to Tonks that he liked treacle tart, so all they had to do was pop over to a bakery in central London for a decently sized cut.

Hermione was even harder. He knew she liked books, but didn't have a clue what she already owned. Johnny still wasn't completely sure he was supposed to get her a gift, but when browsing a bookstore with Tonks as the day turned to night, his eyes caught two in particular. The prose and poetic Edda's of Norse myth. He had some at home in New York, unless his brother had thrown them out in his absence. He was a bit of a nerd about Norse stuff, being lightly teased about it by his adoptive parents when he was younger, some broody looking kid reading Icelandic poetry.

"So," Tonks said lightly as they walked down a relatively empty street. There were a few stragglers, but it was getting late. "We've gotten everyone gifts, but I'm just wondering, where's mine?"

She said it teasingly, knowing full well that she had not let him go for even a moment while they were here shopping.

"I'll think of something," he said severely, and she laughed, "might be a very last minute thing."

"That's alright," she said before looking around. "Ready?"

They stepped off into an alleyway.

"Yeah, let's go home."

Home. He hadn't called something that in far too long.

When they got back to Grimmauld Place, everyone was in the dining room. Elegant candles were on the long table, and everyone was sitting around drinking eggnog. Tonks levitated the bags full of gifts into her room to be wrapped.

"Successful trip?" Arthur asked, smiling at him.

"Definitely," Johnny said, returning it shyly.

"I hope Tonks didn't drag you around too much," Molly said, looking a little weary for his sake.

"Oh there's no doubt in my mind that she showed you almost all of London doing your last minute shopping," Sirius said with a knowing grin.

Just then, feet hit the floor, a figure had stood up so suddenly from their seat near the fire, Johnny didn't know how he hadn't seen her before.

Hermione rushed him, wrapping Johnny into a tight hug. He stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"I read your letters," he mumbled into her hair. Hermione had grown a bit since he'd last seen her. She was almost as tall as him now and smelled like lavender.

"-was so worried." She said into the crook of his neck.

Everyone was staring, though from just over her bushy hair, Johnny could have sworn Sirius was grinning widely.

She let go of him eventually, looking a little teary eyed.

"We can talk later," he told her kindly, trying and failing to give a comforting smile, his face no doubt flushed. Dammit.

Hermione returned to her seat, looking mildly embarrassed by her actions.

Ron looked sour, though Harry was laughing at something Sirius said as everyone returned to what they were doing before. The twins kept smirking at him though, and Johnny briefly entertained the idea of shocking them with their own gift.

Tonks returned none the wiser, but there was no way Sirius wouldn't fill her in soon enough.

The rest of the evening went smoothly, he drank some eggnog, without the generous helping of alcohol that Sirius poured for the other adults. It was nothing short of a warm feeling in his stomach that night. He laughed more than ever before, talked more too. Hermione looked at him a few times until he decided to sit near her. The fire was crackling, she had an open book in her lap, everyone else was busy with their own conversations.

The silence between them stretched a little too far for his liking. "I forgive you, you know," he said finally, breaking it.

Hermione shook her head softly. "You shouldn't," she said stubbornly, "I judged you when I hardly knew you."

She regretted it, clear as day. Hermione worked hard to learn from it all, and apologized profusely. He accepted it.

"I was adopted when I was ten," he told her suddenly, "by family friends. I'm told my birth mother left sometime within a year after I was born. Dad didn't really talk about it too much. He died in a stunt jump gone wrong. They weren't perfect, but Crash and Mona Simpson took me in. He was also a daredevil and she was a nurse, they had another son, James, who was a year younger than me." He had no idea why he was telling her all this, his life story. Maybe it was some vain attempt at getting her to feel better. But it seemed to be working, he had her full attention. "They taught me so much, raised me without complaint as one of their own. Mona died in an accident almost three years ago," it was his fault, he and James, far too excited to ride his bike. "Crash had cancer."

He stopped there, refusing to get emotional. The deal with the devil stuff could wait, anymore and he'd cry, he just knew it.

"They were the best parents I could have asked for."

And they were gone. Gone gone gone and it was his fault.

Johnny cleared his throat forcefully, plastering a false smile on his face. "Sorry about the sob story, what do your parents do?"

Accept the change of subject, accept the change of subject.

Hermione looked startled at the information he dumped on her, and Johnny wanted to kick himself for unloading all that held in trauma on her and oversharing.

"Um, t-they're dentists," she said.

"Nice," he replied, "think they'd give me a discount?"

Hermione looked at him as if he'd spoken in another language. "Oh, I don't know, I guess if I told them we were friends..." She trailed off awkwardly.

Johnny looked around the room, not knowing what else to say. He caught Sirius' eye across the dining table, he was still smiling at him.

"Thank you," she mumbled out of nowhere, he barely caught it.

Johnny looked at her. "You're welcome," he said softly.

Harry shook the pan as the pancake swam around in it, waiting for the right time to flip it. He'd been lucky to find actual cooking tools, due to the house being owned by a magical, muggle hating family. He'd woken up, had a nightmare, and then a long talk with Sirius in his bedroom about feeling angry all the time.

He lived a perfectly normal life.

Thought about visiting Buckbeak, he rather like the Hippogriff, but didn't really want to endure any awkwardness from Karkaroff being in the room. He remembered what the grumpy headmaster of Durmstrang was like last year, and it seemed he hadn't changed much.

Harry had only been told that Karkaroff was there because he nearly walked in on him in an attempt to see Buckbeak for some peace and quiet, stopped only at the last second by Johnny, who was exiting the room. He liked Johnny well enough, and he and Hermione seemed to patch things up between them, so Harry figured he was alright.

Sirius and Johnny explained later what had happened in Norway, about the giants and the death eaters.

There were footsteps coming into the dining room, and he froze. Harry hadn't cooked in front of the others before, not even Hermione, Ron or Sirius knew he even could cook.

It was Johnny, looking unbelievably tired, Harry had initially thought it'd been Sirius, but he must have gone back to sleep after Harry told him about his nightmare.

Johnny's eyes widened in surprise a little when he saw Harry over the stove.

Without a word, he walked forward, a plain blue shirt and cotton pajama bottoms on. Johnny looked over Harry's ingredients and nodded.

"I'll handle the breakfast sausages," he said, and then got to work.

Harry stood there for a moment, slightly stunned. He always had to do it by himself at the Dursley's. Aunt Petunia could cook, yes, but after teaching him for weeks on end, she stopped. And why wouldn't she? They had their own personal little chef.

They cooked in silence, and during a brief period in which Johnny let the sausages simmer, and Harry split the two pancakes he had onto separate plates for Johnny and him, Johnny went back off to the room where they kept Sirius' bike.

He returned a few moments later with a record player. He placed it on a counter and began looking for something. Harry belatedly realized it must have been an electrical plug, because Johnny's head slumped down in defeat suddenly.

"I'm so stupid," he said, "forgot there's no plugs in this house. Sirius usually turns it on with magic." Johnny stood up and turned towards him questioningly. "Don't suppose you could..." He gestured vaguely at the record player.

Harry shook his head regretfully. "Not of age. I can't do magic outside of school."

"Ahhhhhh, that sucks. Oh well, I'll listen to Roberta Flack another time."

Another two minutes passed before he took the sausages off the pan and put them onto a plate. They sat opposite of each other at the table and ate in silence. That is, until Johnny broke it.

"How's school?" He asked, looking at him while putting a piece of pancake into his mouth.

Harry blinked. "Er, alright, I guess."

Johnny nodded, spearing another piece onto his fork.

"And that little secret group of yours? How are you handling teaching?"

His face betrayed nothing, if Johnny was still hurt about what happened at the Hog's Head, he did not show it.

"Good," he said, "really good, actually. Hermione says I'm a natural at teaching."

"Can't say much as I haven't seen you do it, but Hermione's probably right."

"She usually is," he said without thinking.

Hermione had found him shortly after arriving, and had given him the same talk he had from Sirius. It wasn't his fault, et cetera, et cetera.

Johnny smirked at his expression, which must have been telling.

A small silence settled as they ate more.

"These are good pancakes," Johnny said, finishing his off.

Harry mumbled an awkward thanks.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

"My aunt," Harry said, after hesitating. Johnny's head tilted. "What about you?"

"School," Johnny replied, "took a class for it. My parents were usually busy with work so, half of the time I made the meals for all of us."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. What did one say to someone they thought they'd nearly killed?

"Can I ask you something else? Like - I'm gonna turn this whole conversation around, and it'll probably make things even more awkward, but, I need to know."

He had a feeling he knew what was coming next, didn't want to hear it but he also didn't want to be rude.

"Sirius says you saw what happened to me," Johnny said, "is that true?"

Harry swallowed, and then nodded tensely. "Yeah."

Here it came, the repeated talk about how it wasn't his fault, how it was okay.

"Did you see the other man there?"

He wasn't expecting that. Harry had almost forgotten about the other man there in his vision.

"You were talking to him," he said.

"Did you hear what was being said?" Johnny looked anxious.

Harry thought hard. "You said something... something about your freedom being held behind a deal." He never considered that before, only needing to tell someone that Johnny was badly injured. Who was that man?

Johnny swore softly under his breath. "I need you to, uh, not tell anyone else about him."

Fuck fuck fuck. How did he explain this?

Hey yeah, that was the devil, kind of sold my soul to him but also not really. I've been unknowingly helping him in his civil war by killing demons all over the world. Please don't tell Dumbledore because I'm a stubborn asshole and it's none of his business ahaha.

Except it totally was going to be, if Mephisto kept showing up. Sooner or later, he knew he'd have to fill the Order in.

"It's just... so - I made a deal of sorts, with that man." He said, letting out a long breath of air. "It's the reason I transform."

Harry looked stunned.

"He's... a powerful person, someone I don't like being associated with, but also someone that has, and can make my life hell."

Harry nodded dumbly.

"I understand you'd be hesitant to lie to Dumbledore, or anyone else even-"

"It's fine," Harry said, cutting him off, "I don't talk to Dumbledore anyway, but..."

"Sirius," Johnny finished for him. "Listen, I wouldn't want to, either, but this is... personal, and if it becomes a big deal, I'll be the one to tell them immediately. This guy, he just gets in your head, and ever since I became like this over a year ago... I've just been so angry, all of the time."

Harry had this look in his eye then, something he didn't place right away. But it looked like... like he understood. Like he really got it.

"Me too," Harry admitted. "This year has been bad, I just, not even with the vision but my emotions in general have been all over the place. When I was in Dumbledore's office before coming here, I wanted to hit him, to kill him. I don't know what any of it means." He looked distressed. It'd clearly been eating at him. "How - how do you deal with it?"

"You think about how you're going to act or react to different situations, that's what helps the most." He told him truthfully. "Sometimes though, when it's been bottling up inside you, with no sign of stopping. You - you just have to... to.. let the devil inside you out."

Not perfect advice, and honestly, it felt like it was more for himself. Hopefully talking to Sirius or Ron and Hermione will help better.

"I won't tell anyone," he promised after a moment of silence.

Johnny nodded. "Thank you, Harry."

"I THOUGHT I HEARD THE OLD MAN SAY, 'LEAVE HER, JOHNNY LEAVE HER,' TOMORROW YE WILL GET YOUR PAY AND IT'S TIME FOR US TO LEAVE HER."

He bashed his hand on the wall just outside his room.

"That's not even a fucking Christmas carol, Sirius!" He yelled.

Johnny'd pay for swearing later, Molly would make sure of it, but he didn't care right now. All he wanted was to see Sirius dead.

"OH, THE WIND WAS FOUL AND THE SEA RAN HIGH, LEAVE HER, JOHNNY, LEAVE HER. SHE SHIPPED IT GREEN AND NONE WENT BY AND IT'S TIME FOR US TO LEAVE HER."

"Christmas day and it's not even a proper carol," he grumbled to himself, now unfortunately awake. He walked by Mrs. Black, who was ranting and raving, building up to a scream about the filth staying at her house. "Shut the fuck up." He snapped, and she obeyed fearfully.

"I forgot you could do that," a voice said.

Johnny flinched. "And I forgot you liked doing that," he said to Hermione.

She was dressed in a simple baggy white shirt and pajamas bottoms. She looked momentarily sad. "Sorry, I don't know why I keep forgetting it startles you."

"It'd startle anyone," he said defensively as they walked over to the dining room together. "It's okay though, keeps me on my toes."

Literally. He wasn't wearing socks.

Sirius' singing seemed to be a wake up call of sorts, as almost everyone else was in the dining room, waiting to open the presents.

"Guess we were the only ones yet to wake up," he said to her.

"Hardly," Arthur said jovially, passing them each a plate of eggs and bacon. "Tonks, Ron, and Harry still aren't up yet. As well as the twins."

"They were always like that," Molly said in passing as she levitated some of the empty plates to the sink. "Even Christmas wouldn't wake them up when they were younger, I only ever had Ginny for company for around an hour until they all came down looking like Inferi. You would think the premise of presents would wake them up."

He smiled a little, James was the same way.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ginny said, finishing up the last of her bacon.

Molly fought down a smile. "Yes, well, they certainly could be a little much."

Ginny snorted, and Molly lightly smacked her arm.

Johnny ate his own food fast too, and Molly noticed, putting more bacon and a hash brown onto his plate.

"Eat up," she said, eyeing him with some concern. "You hardly do most times."

This was true, he found himself having little to no appetite more often than not. It was maybe a little rude to point it out, but Molly meant well, and he appreciated it.

Eventually, The boys and Tonks arrived, looking like zombies (he had no idea what Inferi were, and didn't want to know if he was being honest). They sat down with a minor amount of grumbling and ate for a bit until Sirius showed up. He looked downright merry, Johnny nearly shuddered.

"Who's excited to open presents?"

It was disgusting. He was one of the first ones to grab a gift. Well, to be fair, Molly forced it on him. Another knitted sweatshirt, this time lilac in color with an orange 'J' on the back. An assortment of jeans and cargo pants, as well as multicolored shirts.

He looked at her in surprise. Johnny had heard Ron mention once that they were tight with money. These clothes didn't exactly look expensive but still, he was happy with just the sweatshirt...

"Molly, how much did this cost?" He asked her.

"Barely a few pounds," she told him happily. Johnny had no idea how much that was in American. "Tonks took me to a muggle thrift store when I talked to her about more clothes for you that could fit my budget."

There was some... warm feeling in his chest. No familiar burning.

It's just clothes. Don't cry over clothes. Don't don't don't.

When did these people sneak up on him and become a kind of family?

Hermione nudged his arm, and he spoke. "T-thank you, Molly. Really."

Her expression brightened and she went back to her seat.

He looked to his left, Hermione was smiling at him, he thought for a moment she might cry, or was that just him?

Harry grinned at his gift from Tonks and Johnny, the treacle tart in a stasis charm to keep from going bad. It went on like that, Arthur was amazed by the lego set. Molly thanked him with a bone crushing hug for the professional knitting kit. George roared with laughter as Fred was shocked by the fake gum. Remus thanked them sincerely for the history books and clothes.

Sirius got him a new leather jacket, brown in color. There were multiple utility pockets on each side of the chest, as well as around the abdomen. The inside was black, and it felt much softer than his own jacket.

"I added some touches to it," Sirius said, "warming charms, some charms to make it soft, little things like that."

He was incredibly grateful.

"I didn't know what to get you," he admitted with a frown.

Sirius waved it off. "Being out there for once, feeling truly free for the first time in fifteen years - though it didn't last very long - was a good enough gift, Johnny."

"We almost died," he said incredulously.

The older man winked. "That's half the fun."

Finally, his gift got to Hermione, and when she took off the wrapping, delicate and careful not to rip it, her eyes widened.

The Edda's were beautiful looking books, in his biased opinion. At least, these particular printings. Intricate golden lines over an emerald cover for the Poetic, and a pink illustration of the World Tree against a midnight blue background for the Prose.

He was fawning over his own gift. Hermione was already on an excited tangent.

"-I mean, I was never really into the idea of religion, less so mythology like the Greek's had. It was so long ago that it's all become sort of muddled, hasn't it? Besides, a lot of Norse myth comes from poems of the time, showing us an inside look of their culture and beliefs! Sure, it's not as detailed as the Greek transcripts or anything in the Bible, perhaps, but I think it's a great deal more interesting-" She stopped herself, out of embarrassment or a need for air, Johnny did not know.

Nobody else was paying attention after she opened them, all absorbed in their own festive conversations and gift comparisons.

"I agree," he said to her, a smile on his face.

She flushed. "I've never read them before," Hermione admitted.

"That's a good gift then?"

"Definitely," she said with a smile of her own.

The engine was loud in his ears.

"So - you just have to - no, no Tonks, the throttle is the right one."

Such a stupid gift idea.

"Keep your pants on," Tonks said loudly, screwing up her face in concentration. "I got this."

"Oh, do be careful!" Molly called from the doorway, looking around frantically for any witnesses.

"It's far too late in the night for any muggles to hear Molly," he barely heard Sirius respond.

"Or early, it is four in the morning," Remus piped up, "if they weren't awake before, they might be now. Best to hurry it up."

"Oh, don't be so dour, Moony," Sirius said, "nobody dragged you out of bed for this, just admit you want to see Tonks fall on her arse."

"Hey!"

Johnny was convinced she was going to kill them.

"Okay - okay so, smoothness is crucial here, yank the brake lever too hard, and the front brakes can lock up, causing the bike to skid and possibly crash. Move it forward to go, backwards to stop, got it?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

He was going to die.

"Alright," he said, "let's just take it slowwwlEEYYYYYYY!"

Her near manic laughter, like the insanely high speed she was going at, never let up.

"You have failed once again, Blackheart, and yet here you are, asking for another opportunity."

Two men stood in a cave, far off the coast. Dark and damp and filled with the dead.

They were the only two living beings there on the stalagmite shaped shore in the centre.

"My lord," Blackheart said with great difficulty, a clear sign of being uncomfortable with referring to another person as that. "The Spirit of Vengeance is all that protects him. Zarathos would love nothing more than to destroy Mephisto's realm. I know that, given the chance, he would join us."

"Perhaps," Voldemort said slowly, gazing into the quartz basin. "But, do tell me, how does one separate the spirit from the body? Killing the boy could release your demon, but, it also, could not."

"And either way," Blackheart said, "it would be a win for us."

"That is hardly a plan," he said bitingly, resisting the urge to curse him. The creatures were hardly smarter than any of the ones already here, they were just far more powerful. "Of course I want him dead, I have humoured you long enough, your words change nothing."

Blackheart looked insulted and turned away.

One of his horcrux's were gone, he did not need to distract himself with such foolishness. Johnny Blaze would fall, just like all the others.

"Your attempts have cost me some followers, though, have secured dozens more. For that, I assure you, will mean more chances to end his life." He'd see if that came to pass. Blackheart was powerful, yes, but also somewhat unreliable. There was a muggle saying for that, though it hardly mattered. "Now," he said, "it's my turn."