A/N: Okay, so here is this long awaited chapter that (hopefully) explains a little of how Harry became who and what he is…sort of. I just hoped I picked the right parts of his life to show it all.

In response to kayla's review: Firstly, thankyou for your review. I love reviews and appreciate constructive (and informative) criticism greatly, it helps to see what I can change in future chapters, since some reviewers have influenced a few ideas, although I'm ashamed to admit I forget who influenced what. Will remedy that some time soon, promise. As for my characterization of James, who is only a side-character if you will, I realise that he was friends with Remus, who is a werewolf, during his school years and even slept in the same room as him for the same amount of time. He's mostly against Harry because of his Hecatamus blood. I was going to explain it in one of the chapters I'm working on now, but just in case, I'll outline it a little here. James is a pureblood, and most purebloods know exactly what Hecatamae are and what they are capable of, which is a great deal of destruction. It doesn't matter that they are classified as Light creatures, they have an unnatural control of magic. He's been brought up to be against anyone displaying Hecatamae characteristics, even though they may not have the blood. So when he calls Harry 'dirty', he's not referring to his werewolf blood. As for how he treats Harry as a werewolf…when Daniel became the BWL, he started listening to Dumbledore, who, at the time, viewed Harry as both a dangerous individual and a powerful weapon to be moulded and used. He had perfect control over his transformations, which makes him even more dangerous, even at such a young age.

Sorry, but it was an Anonymous review and I wanted to reply, even though I'm not sure if she's still reading as it was a review yesterday to chapter two…

Anywhoo…I reached 100 reviews! Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed, read and placed this on your favourite/alert list. I'm not sure I would have even continued posting it if you guys hadn't given me the push I needed. Already working on chapter eighteen now…

This will be set out similar to chapter one, since some people said it was confusing, I've added the years and age. Except for the start, which takes place during the time of Lily's letter to James.

Chapter Ten-- The Past and Grey Beginnings

Harry looked up as his mother rushed past him. There was a frown creasing her forehead and she was nervously biting her lower lip; a habit he had happened to of picked up from her. "Mum?"

"What is it, Harry?"

She didn't stop. Waving her wand, several items flew into the air and settled themselves neatly into a bag she had conjured. Harry frowned. His mother was never like this. She was always calm and collected. Except when his father attacked him.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, dear. Nothing's wrong."

"But you're not okay."

Lily sighed. Harry had always been a perceptive child with a higher than usual intelligence thanks to both his Hecatamus and werewolf blood. "No, Harry, I'm not okay."

Harry stood up from the table, placing his book onto its polished surface, and made his way over to his mother. She looked down at him with a sad look in her jade eyes, yet there was a stubborn pride shimmering there as well. "Can you tell me?"

With a small, wavering smile, she nodded. "We're leaving, Harry. I can't stand watching your father abuse you so, and ignore just how special you are."

Harry grinned up at his mother. He knew that his blood, his abilities, his strange control over magic and his wolf self had caused more than a few problems between his parents. He was sad about that, but he knew that there was really nothing he could do. His mother had asked his father to change, and nothing had happened. It wasn't his fault.

Nodding he bit his own lower lip. "Where are we going?"

Lily ruffled his raven locks and began to wave her wand again, before moving from the room. "To see your godfather first. He deserves the right to know where we will be, because your father is likely to question him straight away. Then, perhaps, we might go to Europe. Maybe France or something. We can't let you go to Hogwarts now…"

"Durmstrang."

"What?"

Harry beamed up at his mother. "Durmstrang. I've been reading all about it, and they teach more advanced magic than Hogwarts. And they won't force me to have a wand."

"You wouldn't be able to use one, anyway."

"But Dumbledore would make me, wouldn't he?"

Lily frowned. She wasn't quite sure about Durmstrang. The school was rumoured to have taught the Dark Arts and she was certainly sure she didn't want her son to learn them. "Why there, Harry?"

Harry frowned. He held his hand out and with a swish, a silver mist formed into a small dragon. The Patronus glided around the room, before dissipating. "How can I learn anything at Hogwarts, when I've read all your school books and can do magic that some older witches and wizards never manage?"

She knew he was right. Harry had an uncanny ability to pick up on the undercurrents of conversations, reading between the lines in books. She supposed that Remus and her had helped it along. The massive tomes they had given him supplied her oldest child with all that he needed at his young age. But Durmstrang?

"We'll discuss this later, when I have more time to do my own research." She flicked her wand and summoned the two trunks she had packed while Harry had been reading. His own banged up trunk, which had been given to him by Sirius, hovered in the air a moment before dropping with a thud to the floor by his feet. "Make sure everything you want is in there. I'm sure we can resize it--."

Harry waved his hand, the lid flipping open. There was a flash of light and every single possession he had was suddenly in there, minuscule compared to ordinary size. His mother cut herself off mid-sentence and blinked at him, before a laugh bubbled forth and she wrapped him in a warm hug. He smiled as he wrapped his own arms around her.

A few minutes later, and after having helped his mother ensure all of her belongings were safely in her own trunk, he watched as she placed a letter on the mantel above the fireplace, leaning it against a family photo. His own photo self, at the tender age of seven, was having a staring match with Daniel's photo self.

Lily sighed before turning to Harry. "Could you make it so James will notice it? I'm not sure I even know of a spell…" She trailed off and bit her lip.

Harry gave her an unsure smile. He really didn't want to leave. "Are you sure mum?"

"Of course I am! Harry, James was abusing you!"

"But," he was slightly confused. "Don't you love him?"

Lily shook her head, fiery strands flying about. "No, I'm not sure I ever did. I wanted him, and I liked him, very much so. But I don't think I loved him. Do you understand, Harry?"

He nodded, even though his nine-year-old mind didn't quite grasp the concepts his mother was talking about, but he was sure he would in time. Confidently, he raised his arm, holding his palm towards the letter. Magic flowed form his fingertips, the multi-coloured tendrils wrapping around the letter and it glowed a moment. When the light died down, nothing seemed different, but they could both feel the magic radiating from the letter. James wouldn't be able to ignore it, even if he never actually laid eyes on it first. The magic would pull him to it, force him to read it as soon as he stepped inside the house.

"Alright then, Harry. Let's go, shall we?"

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1991, Durmstrang, Eleven Years Old, First Year Dorms

Harry bit his lip nervously as he took his surroundings in, curiosity rearing up and taking control. His emerald eyes were bright as they devoured the warm browns and golds, mixed with a healthy helping of black. The stonewalls were draped with beautiful tapestries depicting peaceful glades or gripping battle scenes. Outside, he knew, the corridors and walkways were a winding mass of confusion, and he gripped his map tighter in his hand where he held it in his jacket pocket.

There was no real uniform here. Heavy, fur lined, cloaks were used most of the year, but you could wear what you wanted beneath them. It suited Harry, because he had his own personal style, and he had been rather reluctant to give it up. His mother was also here, and Remus too. Lily had agreed to allow him to attend, but had insisted that she be as close as possible. Karkaroff hadn't even thought of knocking her back after seeing her ability in Charms, but she would be learning Darker spells, more complex ones, in order to teach the older years. Remus had managed to convince her that Dark spells weren't to be feared, but understood, even as he filled the position of Defence.

With a soft sigh, he took another step further into his new common room. As a first year, his choice of roommate had been done for him, and he was apprehensive as to how well he would get along with them. Having spent the last six months wandering around the school, he knew it well, knew the magic that hummed in it. And he had met several other students as well.

Sitting by the large fireplace, was a girl with long platinum blonde hair. Her hard hazel eyes were dazing with the fire's reflection. No one else seemed to want to go near her and Harry found this curious. Summoning his courage, and shoving his nervousness aside, he walked silently forward.

"Hello," He said softly as he sat on the couch next to her, careful to keep a socially acceptable distance between them, but not far enough to insult her. "My name is Harry Evans."

The name was true. He and his mother refused the name of Potter. As far as he was concerned, it was an insult.

Hazel eyes flickered over to him before focusing on the fire again. "Aren't you going to scream and run away?"

He blinked, slightly confused. "Why would I want to do that?"

She fixed him with an unwavering gaze. "Everyone here knows who I am." She sniffed slightly, a small show of her sadness. "Surely you do as well?"

Harry frowned. It was true that she looked slightly familiar, but her name was a little elusive. With a sigh, he switched his gaze to the fire. "To be honest, I can't remember who you are. You're familiar and all, but I don't really care. I hope that isn't insulting, or anything."

"Quite the contrary, Mr Evans." She was smiling softly at him. "If you don't care who I am, than I don't care that your younger twin is the Boy Who Lived!"

Harry laughed. "That would be great. The quicker my…father gets over the loss of my mother, the happier I'll be. It's only been in the papers for the last two years!"

The girl laughed at him, startling several of the other students who turned and gaped at the pair. "Oh yes, I read the article where he talked about their school years. What was it he said? 'We were meant for each other, and were glued to the hip from the beginning'?"

Harry snorted. "My mother and godfather tell a different story. Apparently he was always bumbling around, trying to impress her with grand feats of stupidity!"

She grinned widely now. "I gather you don't like him much?"

"No." Harry sighed and shook his head. "He was never very nice to me, what with my dir…never mind."

"Look, if I tell you my name, will you tell me about it?"

He eyed her cautiously. "Perhaps, if you prove trustworthy first."

"A good way to go about it." She stuck her hand out. "The name is Merena Swiner, though if you ever call me that I'll gladly feed you to the Chimera. It's Mere, and nothing else."

With a flourish, Harry took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles, eliciting a laugh. With a wink, he smiled widely at her, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Mere."

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1992, Durmstrang, Twelve Years Old, Archery Field

Harry raised an eyebrow at the teacher. "A dare?"

"Yes, Evans, I dare you to hit that target at the back."

Emerald eyes flickered over to the indicated target. It was more than a thousand metres away. "No one has ever hit that."

His teacher frowned down at him. "If you hit it, I'll give your friends passing grades."

The four second years sitting on the log benches straightened up a little. None of them could even fire an arrow, let alone hit a target. Mere snorted from where she stood beside Harry. Her once hazel eyes were now a burning amber colour, courtesy of her wereleopard cousin, Lonah, having accidentally bitten her over the summer holidays.

"Sure, Harry. Just hit the target out there to make us all feel small."

Harry shot Mere a grin. "Alright. I'll try."

"Good luck, Evans."

Harry notched an arrow and raised the bow. He pulled the string back and rested his cheek on his knuckles, sighting down the arrow. He waited a moment, testing the wind direction and distance. He shifted his aim and pointed the arrow almost straight up. He looked at the target once more, before releasing the arrow and relishing the twang of the string. The arrow sailed through the air, arcing gracefully before slamming into the very centre of the red and white target. The right target. The target that no one had ever hit. The target over a thousand metres away.

"Shit."

"Don't swear, Miss Swiner." The teacher turned fathomless black eyes on Harry. "Meet me in my office after dinner, Evans. And your friends have their pass grades."

Harry blinked as he was engulfed in a five-person sandwich, with him as the filling.

Later that night, Harry cautiously made his way down to his teacher's office. The man was simply called Pan, no last name or anything. Just Pan. He had always intrigued Harry, making him seek the man out and ask for more training. The target incident earlier hadn't been the only time Harry had managed to do something extraordinary. In free-for-all duels, he somehow managed to survive longer than most of the second years and found it easy to merely side step the spells sent his way.

Of course, his Hecatamus blood made it easy to manipulate said spells, but he wasn't about to tell anyone that.

Knocking on the door softly, Harry entered and nervously closed it again. Pan gave him a tight smile and waved him into a seat before his desk.

"Now, Evans, you are not in trouble so stop it with this nervous crap. I know you well enough to recognize the mask."

Harry glared as he dropped the shy demeanour he adopted in front of the general population. Mere was exempt, as was a boy named Darren that he shared his dorm with, they knew him far too well to believe it. "What was it you were after, sir?"

Pan regarded Harry a moment, seeming to finally come to a decision. "What do you know of the Guild's Harry?"

Now that was an odd question. "There are eleven Guild's, two elected members sit on the Council. Each Guild represents a certain group from the magical world. Sir, what has this got to do with today?"

"The only people who have ever hit the target you so easily hit have belonged to the Assassin's Guild. The reason no one has been able to hit it, besides these people, is because there is an extremely strong spell placed over it. This spell will only allow those worthy of the title of Assassin, to even hit a part of the target. And you hit the dead centre." He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Did you know that it took me an hour to get the arrow out? It was embedded halfway into the target."

Harry blinked. It was all he could do. Just blink.

"I suppose this is a shock, and I have no doubt that once you get over it, you will realise what this means."

A few seconds passed before Harry blinked again, shaking his head. "Are you telling me…that I have…potential, to be an Assassin?"

"Yes."

"No. No way. I'm twelve!"

"Age is no factor."

"I'm twelve, Pan! Twelve! I've barely begun to learn complicated magic and I--."

"Am a Hecatamus?" Harry froze, his eyes widening slightly. "A magical being more powerful than an Elemental? Rarer than anything else in this world?"

"How do you know that?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper.

"I have my ways. I noticed it when you became friends with Miss Swiner. Your magic practically enveloped her, defending her from cowardly attacks. I also know that you are a werewolf. A curious combination."

Harry was suddenly aware of something probing his mind; with a snarl he shoved it away and slammed his shields up full force, his magic instinctively seeking out the intruder. Pan was forcibly bound to his chair, dark eyes wide in surprise.

"What the hell was that for!"

"I had to know if you were right!"

"Right for what?"

Pan glared at Harry. "For the training of an Assassin. It takes a special individual; it's an art and not one to be taken lightly. I had to be sure."

"Are you?"

"Yes. More sure than anything."

Releasing Pan from the magical bonds, Harry forced himself to relax a little. "So who are you to the Guilds?"

"I'm an Assassin as well, though I rarely take on any missions any more. My brother is a Master of Potions and belongs to the Masters Guild." He could see that Harry wanted something else. "My full name?" At the nod he sighed. "Very well. My name is Panah Snape. And the Guild Council has requested that I teach you how to be an Assassin."

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1993, England, Thirteen Years Old, Guild Council Chambers

Harry glared at the man in the dais to his left. Pan was smirking down at him and it was downright infuriating. So he had passed his test with flying colours, the man didn't need to gloat!

"Well done, Mr Evans." A demon peered down at him. "It seems that Pan was not joking when he said you would be a prodigy."

"Hush, now." The Angel beside him gave Harry a beautiful smile that chased away the shadows. Her silver eyes sparkled as she spoke. "Now, Mr Evans, I believe you have earned this, several times over."

With a wave of her hand, a brooch appeared, floating before Harry. Without even realising he was doing it, his magic wrapped around the item, testing it before he reached out and grabbed it, curling fingers around it. It was silver (though the metal did not burn him), onyx and jade, shaped in the same way as the Assassins Emblem, the crest of those few deemed worthy. It was a small group; Pan had been right when he told Harry that it was one of the hardest of the arts, for it required your everything.

"Thankyou."

It was barely a whisper, barely anything in the large chamber, but they all heard it loud and clear.

Pan shifted and spoke, "Now, your naming will take some time, as we need to see you in action first. Your first mission is before you."

A scroll flashed into being and, again, his magic surrounded it. There was a charm on this one and he frowned, looking up at the second representative of the Assassins. The woman glared down at him with crimson eyes. She had placed a burning charm on the scroll, specifically designed to attack him. The charm would only work with his blood, because it had been created for use on Hecatamae.

Choosing to say nothing, he cancelled the charm and unrolled the parchment.

Objective: Take out the current Head of Research at the British Ministry Of Magic

Location: London, England, British Isles

Target(s): Mr Heirrich Gundam, Madam Helena Railes

Notes: Discretion is priority. Ministry is likely to ignore an attack, but Unspeakables are located precisely three floors below target(s) location(s). Proceed with caution and leave the provided note on the desk of the Head of Research.

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1993, Thirteen Years Old, British Ministry of Magic, Research Level

He didn't feel nervous. Apathetic maybe, but not nervous. In fact, it had been surprisingly easy to slip in. Wrinkling his nose, Harry scanned the room before him. Dozens of offices were separated by opaque crystal walls, with clear areas designated as walkways. Stepping further into the room, his footfalls were utterly silent and his senses stretched out around him. A soft whisper of air signalled his magic flowing out around him, touching and moving over everything about him, searching for any danger.

He knew that Gundam and Railes were currently sharing a cup of tea in their shared office, something they did everyday after everyone else left. That had been easy to find, what had surprised him was their link to the second representative of the Assassins to the Council. He had investigated that, and was well prepared to act on his suspicions.

Nearing the enclosed office, he paused a moment and cocked his head to listen. Nothing moved, nothing but those within the office. No sounds bar those of merry laughter and the clinking of china. He didn't feel bad for destroying these people and their carefree laughter. They were investigating something quite dangerous to him and he could not allow it, mission or no mission he would still kill them.

He pressed himself against the wall and carefully, ever so slowly, opened the door. The two inhabitants continued to talk, not a break or pause in their conversation. A shiver of magic and he was invisible and sliding into the office, letting the door shut softly once more.

It was a homely looking place, cluttered with papers, filing cabinets, bookshelves and random objects, but homely all the same. It reminded him strongly of Remus' office at Durmstrang; warm and inviting, but strictly work related. His godfather had always been able to mix comfort and work together, no matter the situation. He missed Remus strongly, since he had taken a year off to search for something. Harry made a mental note to find out what when he could.

Gundam was a pale little man, with spidery fingers that wrapped around his mug elegantly. His golden blond hair was smoothed back and curled at the nape of his neck where it met the stark white robes he wore. Watery blue eyes crinkled in laughter and crows feet made themselves known at the corners of his eyes. This man was not the most dangerous of the two, but he had been given confidential information, tidbits of knowledge that could spell the end of the Assassins Guild.

Railes was completely opposite. She was an exotic beauty, and even with his Hecatamus self screeching that only his mate was beautiful, Harry could appreciate her. Dark brown hair curled around her shoulders, and large brown eyes sparkled with mirth. Her skin was a beautiful gold colour, darker than his, and blended with the beige robes she wore. It was Railes who was the one he needed to watch. She was rumoured to have discovered old texts that spoke of the Hecatamae, of their strengths and weaknesses. It wasn't the only magical creature they were researching. They had found out more on Angels and Demons than any other individual before them, and it was dangerous knowledge.

Moving slowly, silently, Harry crept up behind Gundam. The foolish wizard was yabbering on about some medi-witch and her team that had been treating a…Hecatamus hybrid. Harry froze. The only hybrid in existence was himself, which meant that the medi-witch the wizard spoke of had been the kind woman who had cared for him in his younger years. Anger sparked in his eyes and the emerald was suddenly filled with swirling gold. They wanted to arrest her! To throw her in Azkaban until she told them all she knew! And they were going to kill her team, those precious empathic witches and wizards who had been like a family to him!

No, Harry wasn't going to allow this.

A twist of his wrist had a blade slipping into his palm from its sheath on his forearm. It was a beautiful blade, and rarer than hell. The edges of the blade were lined in silver, but the metal was a shiny black that drew in the light and reflected back the shadows. The hilt was soft, supple leather with a single, milky white crystal embedded in it. At that moment, the crystal was tinged blood red.

Quick as a flash, Harry had both targets pinned to their chairs and the room became sound proofed. Casting aside the invisibility spell, he pressed the blade to Gundam's throat and whispered, "That medi-witch is a dear friend of mine, I hope she is not harmed." He slid the blade across the skin, passively watching in curiosity as the man gurgled and his blood coated his robes. It made for an interesting sight; pure white robes marred by life's blood.

Railes' dark eyes widened in fear and her skin paled in shock. She trembled slightly as Harry stepped nearer to her. "P-please! Don't k-kill me!"

He cocked his head to the side. His eyes glowed emerald and gold in the shadows of his hood, the strip of black cloth keeping his features safe from view. "Do tell me why I shouldn't."

The witch gasped. "You're a child!"

He snorted. "There are no children, only those far too immature to notice it." He leaned down and put his face before her's. "I hardly think that is a reason for sparing your life."

She swallowed. "I have information! Years of research, surely that is worth something?"

He stepped back and looked down and her. "Perhaps. What is it you have been researching?"

"Hecatamae, Angels, Demons. The Guild Council would have us believe they are harmless beings!"

"But you think they are dangerous?"

"Yes!" She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Hecatamae were always said to be merciless, powerful, deadly creatures with an insane blood lust. They could kill us all with nary a thought!" She took a deep breath, calming herself. "Angels may be the bringers of Life, but they are also the harbingers of Death! Fallen Angels exist everywhere; even the great Arc Angel Gabriel is a Fallen one. And Demons! They are nothing more than the bane of the earth! Beings created from the Sins of humanity, they have no purity in their veins!"

Harry shook his head, casting a bored look around the room. "Sounds prejudiced."

"No! My contact says that they are like that within the Coun--!"

Harry spun around and pinned her with a hard gaze. "Your contact, you say? That information could perhaps be worth your life."

Railes trembled beneath his gaze. "Sh-she is on the C-council!"

"What Guild?"

"A-a-assassin!"

He grinned behind the silky cloth over his mouth. "And her name?"

The poor witch seemed to relax, believing her life was saved. "They call her Dia, but her real name is Marie Falcour."

"Thankyou," He said softly and his dagger flashed again. "But your life is forfeit."

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1994, Fourteen Years Old, Residence of Marie 'Dia Venom' Falcour, Godric's Hollow

He hadn't thought he would ever step foot in this sleepy little town ever again. Godric's Hollow had always been a sore point in his life, for it had been the beginning and the end of his time as a Potter. Harry sneered slightly as he spied his child hood home across the street. The house, or perhaps Manor, was massive and spanned almost the entire length of that side of the street. It had been small and quaint when he had been born, but his mother had told him that James believed that renovations had been required. And since the Potter family owned the entire town, no one had any problem with the family taking over the empty lots on either side. He much preferred the Potter Ancestral Manor a few miles away; there was a large forest on the property, which was perfect for running through.

Emerald eyes cast a glance up at the full moon and he shivered as her beams stroked tenderly across his skin. The wolf howled inside of him and Harry promised to run when this was done. He had worked on this for months, worked on ensuring the end of Dia's life. He had always hated the witch because she had a tendency to cast potentially deadly spells on him. The Guild Master knew that he was a hybrid and took great care to ensure his safety. The one thing Harry had to keep him safe from other Assassin's after this was the rock solid proof of her treachery.

The house before him would have been plain, boring, if it wasn't for the hidden scent of poisons and…something else. Dia had been given the second name of Venom because of her use of poisons in her hits and missions, and she took great pride in her concoctions. The problem was that Harry's nose kept twitching at the underlying scent, it was familiar and he somehow knew it was in danger.

Sparing a glance around him, Harry swiftly slid from human to wolf and loped around the house. He felt wards and spells slide over his fur before slipping back into place as if nothing had ever happened. He slowed down as he picked up a voice and his ears twitched in response.

"Silly, little, wolf. Trying to get away are we?"

In a silver cage suspended several feet in the air was a familiar looking shaggy coated grey wolf. Gold eyes glared down at the witch and a menacing growl filled the air. Harry knew what the scent was now, it was Fenrir Greyback.

Fenrir was the Alpha of the largest werewolf pack in Britain and had origionally been on Voldemort's side in the war. But when his beta, Remus Lupin, had reported that a tiny cut to a baby had resulted in a partially turned cub, he had switched sides in a dramatic blow to the dark. Harry had been that tiny babe. It had taken awhile but he had gotten the truth from Remus. Fenrir had come and given a bite to Harry on his arm, only a fortnight before that fateful Halloween night. The bite had healed until only one stubborn little cut remained and Harry had become the hybrid he truly was.

Letting loose a chilling howl, he slunk forward from the shadows, green gold eyes fixed on Dia. She laughed and prodded at Fenrir with a silver rod, resulting in a whine and a growl.

"Aw, look, wolfie, a wittle cub has come to save you! How cute." Her red eyes narrowed as the blue-black wolf picked itself up from the crouch it had been in, making it appear bigger and more dangerous. "Impedimenta!"

Harry growled and smoothly changed from wolf to human before sidestepping the spell. "Hello, Dia."

"You!"

"I do have a name, you know."

She glared at him before biting out, "Grey."

"Thankyou. Not so hard to have manners now, is it?"

"I didn't know it was you that the medi-witch talked about."

"So it was you who killed her." His eyes narrowed and flashed.

Dia laughed. "Of course! Who else, my dear? Though, I would've taken more precautions if I had known that you were this precious little hybrid." She grinned maliciously. "To think, you're not even partially human!"

Harry moved then. He was fast enough that her eyes were still focused on his previous spot when he pressed the black blade against her throat. "Was it worth it traitor?" He slid the blade across her throat and dropped her to the ground. He stared down at her, the first Assassin he had killed, but the eighth person to die by his hand, or more precisely, his blade.

He looked up at Fenrir, who watched him with calm eyes. A wave of his hand had the cage vanishing and the alpha dropping to the ground. In a swirl of fur and clothes, Harry changed into his wolf form and nudged the older wolf.

Play!

A/N: Gah, I feel so crap. My head is pounding, I'm sniffling every few seconds, my throat is sore and my muse is attempting to hide from me. Chapter eighteen is the slowest one to be written so far...