September 25, 1994. 1630, Second Floor Corridor…
The two Assassins on duty outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom exchanged looks as the bells chimed for the final time of the day, signifying the end of the last class of the day. The corridor was about to be filled with students and Master Altaїr had not yet reemerged from the Chamber.
"This could get messy," said one in a singsong voice, a smile clearly on her face beneath the golden streaked mask.
"Very true," replied the other, his eyes twinkling beneath his green streaked hood. "Hopefully we'll be able to see their faces when he gets back up."
As the pair fell silent, students began to pour into their corridor from around the corners at either end of the hall. They nearly fell over themselves as they saw a pair of Assassins standing alongside one another in the middle of the hall, just outside an out of order bathroom.
One red head by the name of Ronald Weasley decided to ask them about it as he passed on his way to the staircases. "Why are you two here? Isn't there something more important to stand around by then a haunted bathroom?"
The Assassins merely tilted their heads towards the entrance way of the restroom, from which was emanating a faint booming sound, steadily growing louder and was soon felt through the very stone the students and Assassins stood on.
"Oh, that nice Mr. Altaїr is coming," said a dirty blonde, her wand residing behind her left ear. Everyone looked at her in confusion, including the two Assassins, wondering how she had connected the recurring sound with the Master Assassin. Others began to question her sanity as she called an Assassin, a man whose job entailed killing people, 'nice.'
The two Assassins pulled open the doors, revealing a yawing hole in the middle of the floor surrounded by several sinks. All the students looked at each other, excluding Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood, wondering what the significance of the tunnel entrance was.
Everyone recoiled in fright as a hand in a fingerless glove reached over the edge of the hole, searching around for a handhold. Finding one, it gripped the small crack in the stone floor and pulled its owner over the edge.
Altaїr's red streaked visage appeared, one arm out behind him, as if he was pulling something. He stood as soon as most of him was out of the hole and calmly walked out of the bathroom.
More screams were heard as the head of a hundred foot long basilisk appeared with its jaw firmly clenched in the Master Assassin's fist.
The two Assassins followed on either side of the meter wide snake, chuckling behind their masks at the horror on the student's faces.
Courtyard…
After the classes at Hogwarts were finished for the day, Albus Dumbledore always enjoyed a relaxing walk through the grounds, smiling as the birds chirped, the giant squid made ripples in the lake, and the students chattering amongst themselves.
However, he was not expecting to see a dead hundred foot basilisk in the middle of the courtyard, currently being pulled by the Master Assassin.
The aged headmaster sighed as he began a beeline for the red and white Assassin, hoping this didn't have him going to the infirmary for more potions for relief of headache pain.
"Master Altaїr, what brings you out here on this fine day?" asked Dumbledore, glancing pointedly at the snake held firmly in the Assassin's hand.
"The Laws of Conquest according to the Code of the Order of Witches and Wizards, set down by the wizard Merlin and the Witch Morgan le Fay, any creature killed by a witch or wizard is then considered that witch or wizard's property," said the Assassin, his tone deadpan as he invoked an ancient law that had been set down in enchanted stone some several hundred years ago.
Dumbledore was struck speechless as he heard that the dead serpent before him was killed by the Assassin. He blinked a few times as he pondered the newest developments, finally deciding to ask how the creature died.
"Assuming what you say is true and you did slay this beast, how did you kill it?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as stared at the Master Assassin.
Altaїr glared at the man as he felt the weak Legilimency barb the Headmaster threw against his mental shields. A quick pulse of power directed into his barriers had Dumbledore mentally reeling.
"You doubt my word, Albus Dumbledore? I killed this beast two years ago, back during the second opening of the Chamber of Secrets. You remember the time, do you not?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly, realizing what had been preying on his students for the entirety of the semester. He immediately bowed to the Assassin in thanks, thanking him for removing the threat before someone had died.
"No thanks are necessary. I needed a second excursion to Hogwarts and it was the easiest way," said Altaїr, waving off the thanks as if killing monstrous beasts was just part of his job.
Knowing what little I do, he probably does… and what does he mean 'second excursion to Hogwarts'? thought Dumbledore, beginning to feel a headache coming on. "Why have you brought the beast's carcass out here, Master Altaїr?"
Altaїr pointed towards the gates of Hogwarts. Dumbledore followed his directions and looked over to see a goblin in a shrunken Muggle suit enter through the gates, a briefcase in hand.
"Master Altaїr! May your gold always flow," said the goblin, spreading his arms wide and bowing at the waist. He straightened to show a wide toothy grin.
"And may your enemies be strong enough to keep you on your toes," replied Altaїr, bowing to the goblin in the traditional Assassin way. As he straightened from his bow, he pulled down the mask across his face and allowed a smile to curl his lips. "It is good to see you, Griphook, old friend."
Altaїr walked over and dropped to one knee before Griphook and extended his right arm. Griphook extended his own arm and grabbed Altaїr's in a warrior's handshake: their hands clasping the others forearm. This was both an Assassin and Goblin tradition, showing that the ally had enough strength to haul someone aboard an escape vessel and it also revealing if the ally wore any potentially lethal weapons on their forearms, such as the hidden blades of the Assassins and the hold-out daggers favored by many a goblin.
They nodded to each other, greeting each other as two warriors of great deeds, even though most were deemed 'black-ops' to the rest of the world.
Griphook smiled as he released the Assassin's arm and walked slowly around the basilisk, appraising its current value as quickly as he could. "When the famous Altaїr calls me and says he has a situation that would be mutually beneficial in monetary terms, I tend to hurry."
"And how is Altaїr famous, Master Griphook?" asked Dumbledore, hoping to get some insight on the Assassin's movements.
Both Assassin and goblin stopped moving and stared at the aged wizard before going back to their walking.
Altaїr waited patiently, pacing absentmindedly with his hands clasped behind his back, as Griphook calmly continued his assessment of the dead snake. He allowed his smile to widen as the goblin began to show a similar grin, widening as the seconds ticked by.
"Your assessment, Master Griphook?" asked Altaїr as the goblin finished his circuit, nearly skipping with joy.
"I would be honored to handle the contract, Master Altaїr," said Griphook, affecting a calm persona, thought Altaїr could see the galleons glinting in the goblin's eyes.
"Excellent."
"Is the traditional ten percent… acceptable?" asked Griphook, rubbing his hands together as he imagined his commission alone.
"Twenty-five," said the Assassin, his smile never wavering as the goblin's jaw dropped.
"Twenty-five percent, Altaїr?" asked Griphook, his voice hoarse as the realization set in.
"Well, you have served as the Assassin's Treasurer for a number of years and I believed it was time you had some appreciation sent your way. Don't you think so?"
Griphook nodded slowly, mentally dancing a jig, as he picked his jaw off the ground. He knows how much I want that promotion. I thought it might take me a year to get such a large contract and then he shows up with a dead basilisk and offers me twenty-five percent! How does he always know?
"I-I…uh, will start the correct procedures as soon as possible."
"Excellent, Griphook. Thank you for your time. May your gold always flow," said Altaїr as he turned on his heel and waved to the other Assassins, ordering them back into the castle.
As Altaїr turned back to Griphook, the goblin bowed deeply and intoned his finishing lines. "And may your enemies be strong enough to keep you on your toes. Thank you, Altaїr."
With that, Griphook placed a hand on the basilisk corpse and disappeared, returning to Gringotts to begin the preparations of dissecting and selling the hundred foot basilisk.
Altaїr turned around and found himself face to face with the female assassin with golden streaks on her armor. "Hello, Alyssandra," he said in greeting, smiling as he spread his arms to bestow a hug on one his close friends.
"Master Altaїr," said Alyssandra, returning the hug. "Might I ask a favor?"
The crowd that had formed while the dead basilisk was on display started to thin as students began to walk away, little groups ranging from two to five breaking off to head for their common rooms or other favored places such as the library and certain broom closets on a number of floors.
Noting that there were still witnesses around, he placed a hand on Alyssandra's shoulder and jumped them to an empty corridor on the fourth floor.
"Is it that time already?" asked the red streaked Assassin, his head tilted in silent questioning. "Surely you haven't used up your supply already."
"I regret to say the temptation was too much for me, Master Altaїr," said the female Assassin, bowing her head as if ashamed.
"Very well," said Altaїr as he pulled his hood to the side, baring his neck to the woman.
"Thank you, Altaїr," said Alyssandra as she pulled down her mask, leaned in and appeared to breathe deep, her nose at the joining point of the Master Assassin's neck and shoulder. Altaїr smirked as she moaned softly, knowing what was to come next.
She bared her teeth, showing elongated fangs before biting down on Altaїr's jugular, easily puncturing the skin. A single drop of blood escaped between the lips of Alyssandra and Altaїr's neck, leaving a crimson trail that quickly disappeared beneath his collar.
Altaїr sighed as he felt the familiar tugging sensation
After a moment, the vampire removed her teeth from the man's neck and gave the two wounds a quick lick, sealing the twin puncture wounds.
"Thank you, Altaїr," said Alyssandra, her voice husky and a blush upon her cheeks.
Altaїr smiled as he recognized that look. She always gets that look about her when she drinks my blood, he thought as he pondered his effect on her. "Not a problem, Alyssandra. I shall send Yoda with supplies to refill your reserves."
Alyssandra nodded and pulled her mask back up as she turned and walked away, a seductive sway to her hips, making Altaїr reminisce Farah's alter ego, Dancer.
That woman is going to be the death of me, thought Altaїr as he pulled his hood back into its proper position.
He turned around and began walking towards the staircases, though he stopped as soon as an angry outburst rent the silence. He turned to find the
"What the hell?" shouted Ron, glaring up at the Assassin, disgust plain on his face. "Why would you let a filthy bloodsucker latch on to you like that?"
Altaїr walked over, grabbed a fistful of robes, lifted him to eyelevel and glared at the boy, his anger clearly on his face despite the mask the covered it. "That 'bloodsucker,' as you call her, has saved my life three times and I would prefer that you not speak of her like that."
"Vampires are evil!" shouted Ron, disgust still on his face despite being held about a foot above the floor. "They should be exterminated!"
"Many have thought along the same lines as you. If their ideals target members of the Assassins, they do not live long enough to put their plans into action. All vampires are not evil, just as all so called 'pure-bloods' are not simple minded fools. I would advise you not to attempt to follow such a path, for there are those of us who would fight to the death and beyond for their friends," said Altaїr, his voice icy. Ron could swear his breath was coming out in a plume a vapor when he breathed, the room temperature seemingly dropping several degrees.
Altaїr opened his clenched fist and let the boy fall to the floor in a heap before disappearing, Disapparating to the Great Hall, hoping to catch Talal before he sat down to an early dinner.
Great Hall…
As Altaїr appeared in the Great Hall, the three Assassins sitting at the Slytherin table immediately snapped to their feet and placed their left hands over their chests. Some students laughed before noting that the Master Assassin himself was directly behind them. That quickly had them shutting up.
"Safety and peace, Master," chorused the three Assassins, returning to their seats as Altaїr sat among them, nodding in greeting as he pulled a plate towards him. "How are you, Talal, Jacinta, Padraig?"
"Brilliant, sir," said Padraig, his Irish accent in full effect, his only true accent as a native of the Island. He smiled beneath his hood, green streaked with a green shamrock near the collar, knowing how much he annoyed the younger man when he rapidly changed accents on the fly. Altaїr rolled his eyes at the poison expert of his team, knowing that the man could speak without the accent.
Padraig smiled, going from Irish to Russian, as he indicated the two meters on either side of them with outstretched arms. "The school children are very wary of us, comrade. Perhaps, if we brought up the mission in Sicily, they would not fear you that much."
"Leave him alone, Padraig," chimed in Jacinta, her ice-blue marked hood swiveling to glare at the burly twenty-nine year old Irishman. The twenty-nine year old Japanese woman smirked beneath her hood. "I don't see him reminding you of the mission in Brazil, do you?"
Talal and Altaїr both groaned as Padraig seemed to swell in indignation. Here he goes again, thought the two of the Assassin, bracing their heads on their fists, already knowing a headache was coming on.
"It was not my fault!" shouted Padraig, slipping back into his Irish accent, glaring at the tiny woman sitting across from him. It was quite fun to see, a nearly seven foot tall Irishman versus a five foot four Japanese woman
"It wasn't your fault that you and Alyssandra missed a signal to attack and ended up appearing after the battle was over?" asked Jacinta, an innocent look on her face.
Altaїr and Talal shared a chuckle as they remembered the mission: They had fought through the jungle terrain to a secret Templar base they had learned the location of by interrogating an ex-Templar. The battle was relatively quick at first, Talal, Jacinta, and Altaїr charging the main gates as Alyssandra and Padraig used a less conspicuous back door. They were to wait until the other three sent a signal through a rune to alert them that they might be in trouble.
The signal was launched but the pair didn't show up.
Amidst much cursing and bloodshed, Altaїr composed the ass kicking he was going to give the pair... after he survived the engagement.
As the last Templar fell and the trio of Assassins searched for survivors, Alyssandra and Padraig burst into the room, swords drawn and screaming war cries. They stopped dead as they saw the courtyard littered with dead bodies, bullet casings and three bloodstained Assassins, all of whom were winding down from the effects of adrenaline.
The sight was nearly enough to make the three forget about beating them up as they doubled over laughing.
The memory brought a smile to Altaїr's lips as he reached for a platter of steaks that magically appeared before him. Remind me to thank the house-elves the next time I'm down in the kitchens…
"We were busy fighting off six Templars!"
"Six?" asked Altaїr, pausing in the cutting of his newly acquired steak. "Last time I heard this story, it was four."
"I heard three the last time, Padraig," chimed in Talal. Altaїr shot a glance at Talal, an eyebrow raised in questioning. Talal shrugged and continued. "Sure you were fighting off six Templars?"
Padraig seemed at a loss for words when Jacinta coughed quietly, drawing attention back to her. "The truth of the matter is that Grand Assassin Padraig and Master Assassin Alyssandra were getting to know one another Biblically during that time period."
Altaїr dropped his fork as Talal's elbow slipped off the table and smashed his head onto the hardwood with a loud thunk. Both turned to glare at the now sheepish looking Irish Assassin, their eyes promising a beat down as soon as possible.
"Let me get this straight: we were left to fight nearly a hundred Templars armed with M16A4's, AK-47's and grenades because you and Alyssandra were having a quickie?" asked Altaїr, his voice very calm, icy almost.
The green streaked Assassin Disapparated, leaving Talal grasping at empty air where Padraig's throat had been a second before.
Jacinta began to laugh, the sight of Talal cursing and creating ways to hurt Padraig becoming too much for her to hold in.
Altaїr sighed as he resumed eating, knowing that Padraig had to sleep sometime. "Talal, leave it alone."
"I will most certainly not leave this alone! I caught half a dozen bullets during that fight!" shouted Talal, drawing the attention of the students and teachers, mildly surprised at his outburst.
"Another time, brother, when not so many people are watching," said Altaїr, placing a hand on Talal's shoulder and dragged him back down to be seated.
"Fine… but I get dibs on the first hit."
"Deal," said Altaїr, eating a slice of his steak.
The trio of Assassins ate in silence as the Great Hall began to fill with other students, teachers, and other Assassins, all coming for their evening meals or just to chat with friends. Altaїr greeted each as they sat down and listened to their reports, noting interesting facts on his HUD. Facts like the current passwords for the different dormitories and the Headmaster's office.
"Is it true?" asked the voice of Hermione Granger, standing behind Altaїr with her arms crossed. "Is it true that you have a vampire on your team of assassins?"
Altaїr quickly spun around, startling the young witch with his speed. "Salaam and good evening, good friend. How might I be of service?" he asked, conjuring a rose out of the air and placing it behind her ear before she could react.
"I was wondering if the rumors were true or not."
"Which rumor would that be, Ms. Granger? I have heard several good ones during my stay," said Altaїr, leaning back on the table. "I particularly enjoyed the rumor that we make oaths with demons to get our powers and in turn must sacrifice the Muggleborn on altars of bone during the full moon."
"The rumor that one of your Assassins is a vampire!" shouted Hermione, growing tired of the Assassin's evasiveness. Damn him for being so annoying!
"Ah, that one…" said Altaїr, grinning as he turned his head to address Alyssandra, sitting a few seats down the table. "Alyssandra!"
"Aye, sir?" said Alyssandra, standing to see the reclined Assassin. "What do you wish of me?"
"Care to put this rumor to rest?"
"Certainly, Master Altaїr." Alyssandra stood and walked over to Hermione, pulling her own mask down as she approached.
As she stood in front of the smartest witch of her age, Alyssandra smiled, revealing gleaming white teeth. As Hermione leaned in for a closer look, Alyssandra's canines elongated, giving her the fangs that were the trademark of all vampires.
"I am what we vampires call a dhampir, a half-vampire. I have all the strengths of a vampire, none of the weaknesses. Unfortunately, I still must drink blood as nourishment."
Altaїr took this moment to stand up and place a hand on her shoulder. "She is Alyssandra Moonshine, leader of the Vampire Assassins of the Shadow Keep. Pray that you never meet her on the battlefield."
On that note, Alyssandra turned away and returned to her seat. Catching a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, Altaїr turned to find Dumbledore approaching from the head table at a pace quite impressive for one of his age.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Altaїr said, bowing his head slightly as he greeted the elderly wizard.
"I must insist that Ms. Moonshine leave the grounds. It is unsafe for the students for her to remain," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.
"You have no right to insist anything, least of all ordering me or any of my Assassins around," said Altaїr, waving the aged man away as he returned to his meal. "Master Alyssandra will remain on Hogwarts property as long as I do. The same applies to the rest of my team. Any of us go, we all go."
Each and every one of the Assassins turned to glare at the Headmaster, silently daring him to try and call their 'bluff.' After no response from the man, they turned back to their food, the headmaster apparently forgotten.
"Will the vampire kill any students in bloodlust?" whispered Dumbledore, glancing back and forth between the gold and red Assassins.
"'The vampire' has a name," intoned Alyssandra, not even looking away from her goblet of blood as Dumbledore flinched, forgetting the well known fact that vampires have enhanced senses. "And I am in perfect control of my 'bloodlust,' as you call it."
"That will be all, Dumbledore," said Altaїr, waving a hand at the elderly wizard, clearly ending the conversation and dismissing him.
Dumbledore stood there for a moment, the abrupt dismissal wounding his pride. He turned and walked away, reaching for one of his sherbet lemons.
If you have any questions, comments or a random string of profanity you would like to share, hit the review button.