Ok, here's the thing, I haven't written in this story for a very long time, so, I decided to refresh my memory of how much I had posted so far. I was reading, and I became horrified at the inconceivable amount of grammar and punctuation errors I had made, not to mention the structure sentences themselves. I have tried to fix the most glaring problems as much as possible, but I am not done. Which means I am going to be reposting the old chapters, even adding things. I may repost the chapters several times. I am sorry if this is inconvenient in any way, but it was just so bad. Now on with the fic!

I had to redo this chap because I had messed up the date for James section. This was a pretty important part of the story.

Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Brianna, James, Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere. If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book. It's in the sixth year, btw.

This means someone is speaking Spanish, thinking to themselves, or a word is being emphasized.

Chapter 8: Crash and Bash

James

August tenth

11:23 PM

Los Angeles, California

The rain was falling heavily as James made his way down the highway. It had been raining a lot lately. De had told him that the downpour was unusual for this time of year. James was only irritated because before this bout of odd rain started, he had been starting to get the hang of this driving thing. Now it felt like the wheel was starting to jump out of his hand from time to time. He never really had a reason for learning how to drive, he had always apparated everywhere. The spell had come in handy over the years. Now, however, because he didn't carry his wand anymore, he couldn't actually use magic. Not that he wanted to. Often.

If he had to be truly honest with himself, he would have to say that he missed that world terribly. Everything was simple back then. He was a powerful male witch with a loving family, happy friends and a near perfect fiancée. His mental prowess was respected. He had gotten a PH. D. for goodness sake. Everything fell in his lap.

That was the problem, you idiot, he thought to himself as he made a left turn. The wheel shook again. Everything was too easy. That's how Sam was able to use you.

In the back of his mind an annoying, tiny voice replied, but at least you were happy. At least you had purpose.

Not with Sam.

Oh, quit whining. That freak isn't worth it.

"Shut up," James muttered.

He hated it when he argued with himself. He couldn't help that he saw all sides to everything. It was a trait he had inherited from his grandmother. He smiled as he remembered Grammy Rose. Then he shook his head. He didn't want to think about her. James's mind automatically moved to his work life. If one could call it that.

It had been almost 2 months since he had started what could be loosely called his career as a super model. Tracy is still in Milan and De, who had decided to "adopt" him, still made him feel uncomfortable. He figured since he was used to Bri's brisk attitude that he would have adjusted better to the tiny manager. She had been having him do almost a shoot a week sometimes more. He was starting to feel drained. He didn't like De's general attitude either. She just seemed too mean. Not too long ago, she had made one of the photographers cry so hard they had to hire another one because he couldn't see through his tears well enough to actually focus the camera properly.

It wasn't just De that made him feel uncomfortable, it was also some of the other models. The guys were ok. Thankfully those were the ones De had suggested he pose with. It was the ladies that were the most loathsome. The ones he actually talked to seemed too flighty and selfish. On his brief lunches with some of them they either talked too much about themselves or about this new amazing "diet" they had recently discovered. Meaning they ate five peanuts and half a cup of ice cubes per day.

He had asked De if it was alright if he grew his hair out. He missed it every time he looked in the mirror. She agreed but only on the condition that he keep the highlights as well as the eyes. He remembered the conversation vividly but he didn't have time to really think about it. The song "Swan Lake" rang through the car. He picked up his cellphone knowing who it was. That was the ringtone he had chosen for his mother. She was the only one who called him from the house.

"Hello, Mum," He said automatically, putting the earpiece on. He didn't trust himself to drive with only one hand through this weather.

He and Stacy were finally on speaking terms again. He had called her a week after his first shoot to see how she was faring. The call hadn't been as awkward as he had thought it would be. She had had another exhibition in her art gallery and had managed to sell up to 5 paintings. Earning almost $1,600. They had planned to use it for renovations until Terence's sister, Gloria, had fractured her leg. She was broke so James's parents had offered to pay.

"Hello, darling," she said, sounding cheerful. "My call isn't too late, is it?"

"Not at all. I'm on my way home now. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I call my only son to see how he's doing, and he's already trying to get rid of me." James could tell she was joking.

He couldn't help smiling. He missed her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound that way. How are you? Has she found a house, yet?" "She" referring to his Aunt Gloria.

"I'm doing well, thank you. And no, she hasn't, poor dear. The doctors all seem to be appallingly under qualified. Despite what they say, she feels agony every waking moment." Stacy's voice didn't change but James could tell that she was using her dry wit. "Your father's gotten better, by the way. Dr. Strobes says that the cold has almost blown over."

"That's nice to hear, Mum." He knew he didn't sound pleased at all.

"When are you and he going to stop whatever feud is going on between you two? You're both giving me a migraine."

"My apologies," he said stiffly. "I never meant for you to get involved."

"Don't start that dead tone with me, young man. I demand an answer. Why can't you two get along?"

"You know why, Mum," he said suddenly tired. Their discussions about Terence usually did that. "We're just too different, I suppose."

Thankfully, Stacy could hear the exhaustion in his voice and took pity on him. "I did actually call for something, James. I was wondering if you remember where you had last seen the Tanner family Book of Shadows?"

James was thoroughly confused. "No, I don't remember. I haven't seen it since I was nine. Why do you ask?"

"Gloria's been asking about it. Something about an old potion from when she and Terence were younger. I think they're arguing whether they had put eye of newt of salamander's tail."

Sounds like them. "Last place I remember it was in the attic."

"Thank you, James. I'm sorry, dear, but I have to be going. It sounds like Gloria is absolutely parched."

"Have a nice night, Mum."

"Good night, dear. I love you."

"Love you too." He pushed the off button on his phone that was securely tethered to it's holster. Before he could take the ear piece off, the phone rang again. Now the ringtone was "Miniature Disasters" by K. T. Tunstall.

He answered, "Good evening, Brianna."

"Heya, you. Like the ring tone I gave myself?" She had programmed his phone for him. James had never owned one before.

"Very appropriate."

"Punk. It's my favorite song. Guess where I am."

"Good Lord, Bri, don't start that again. I'm too tired."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." She didn't sound apologetic to James at all. "The shoot. Hollywood, right?"

"Yes." He had made it to the city and was slightly distracted by the zooming cars. "Now, why do I need to guess your location?"

"James Tanner, I am shocked and dismayed that you've forgotten."

It took him a moment for him to try to dredge up the obscure memory of one of their many conversations until he found a spark. "The job! That's right. Darling, what would that have to do with your location?"

"Duh! He wants me to look after the school for the summer. Apparently, a new student is behind or something and He and his tutor are coming to stay here tomorrow."

Left turn. "Again, why?"

"If you say 'why you' in that stupid tone, I'm going to hunt you down and hurt you."

He resisted the urge tro chuckle. He loved to tease her as she did him. It was just the kind of relationship they had.

"I read his profile. This kid's cool. And his full name is so hard to say. Hold on I'll find the paper." There was a pause on the other end and James could hear rustling in the background. "Lucien Jose Por-ti-yo Martinez. I like that. It's so exotic."

"Brianna! He's a student," James cried, surprised.

"I never said he was exotic, although he is. I said his name was." She sounded affronted. "Besides he's more your type than mine."

"Brianna-"

"Would you stop saying my name that way?"

"He's under age," he continued.

"Not in Iceland. And you're only 19."

"I'll hang up," he warned.

"Jeeze, I'm just kidding. You never were one for the brunettes, I know"

"His family is amazing. Four sisters. Seven brothers. I nearly fell off my chair when I read that in his file!"

"I don't believe I've met anyone capable of that level of reproduction."

"And he has the prettiest eyes!"

"Would you kindly desist!" James shouted in exasperation.

She actually giggled. "'Desist'? Sweetie, seriously, who talks that way anymore? Besides, I thought you liked blue eyes."

James promptly picked up the phone and pushed the off button.

He had suddenly turned onto a busy street. Eleven o'clock at night and it still has traffic in this town. The next few moments happened in slow motion for James. The phone played Bri's song again in his hand right when a car seemed to appear in front of him. He practically threw the phone at his feet as both of his hands grasped at the wheel to swerve out of the way. As that happened he tried to slow down but the phone had rolled under the brake. James tried to move to the right only to rear end a truck. The back of the truck popped open, shooting several steel pipes straight towards his head. James didn't know how it happened but only one came through to smash his window cascading him in sharp glass. Shaky but still conscious James dully noticed that his phone was still playing that annoying song. He unbuckled his seatbelt to reach down and yell into it. His earpiece had fallen out. He didn't see the Volvo crash through his driver's side door.

Later on the scene, when the medic found him on the sidewalk, he was be proclaimed unstable but miraculously alive.

Lucien

8:49 PM

August eleventh

Diagon Alley

It took a moment for Hermione to realize that Lucien was walking towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"To help you pack," was his only reply as opened the door and waited.

"Pack. What-"

"Hermione the very thought of staying here, makes your brain shut down. I'm not going to let you be put through that. We're going to pack then leave."

Hermione smiled as she stood up and walked towards him. She reached behind him to try to close the door but he held it firm. Sighing with a smile on her face she tried to reason with him. "Lucien, it's raining. You obviously have a lot of luggage. As do I. It's almost 9. Let's stay, drink our cocoa, eat our diner, sleep, then we'll figure out what to do in the morning." At Lucien's narrowing eyes she said. "I'll be fine for one night. I promise."

Lucien sighed then. "I can't make you do something you don't want to do, Hermosa. I'm trying to look out for you. I hate seeing a lady cry."

"I know," Hermione replied as she was allowed to shut the door. "Why don't we eat? I can tell that you're hungry. You can tell me more about your family."

He looked at her disgustedly. "Ugh, trying to prey on my homesickness, that's low."

"I know," was the smug answer as she sauntered over to the couch again.

They had talked well into the night simply enjoying each other's company. Lucien found out about Hermione's parents being dentists. She seemed to know about his parents so he didn't need to explain what they did. He talked mostly about his brothers and sisters. Lucien told her about the time he fell out of a tree, thus having to reveal his fear of heights. He talked about little Rosa and her love of all things fluffy as well as creepy.

Lucien was explaining all the wonders that Angel had done to the grounds, when he heard a light murmur. Hermione was asleep. He walked into the bedroom and and was glad to see that the bed had so many covers. Lucien grabbed 2 blankets, but he changed his mind when he remembered that the fire was nearly out and he didn't have the energy to relight it. So he grabbed the comforter for Hermione. He gently laid the pink comforter on her and curled up on the other couch.

He was exhausted. And no wonder considering it was 11 at night. He took a moment to actually look at Hermione, still stunned by the fact that he had already told her so much. He was revealing things he had never told anyone outside of his family. He chuckled quietly.

Lucien had always considered himself to be an open person. He never had a problem coming out when he was 12. He didn't care who knew about that, but personal stuff was well... personal. He liked that he could trust her. He was really lucky to have a friend like Hermione. With that comforting thought, Lucien let sleep come.

The man was infuriated. He was seething as he sat in his dark throne room with no windows. He had just come from his "meeting" and the situation left him brooding. How could that snake do something so foolish? Didn't he know what was riding on this? They- he needed the boy. For their entire plan to work the boy needed to be unharmed. And to find out that that vile wretch with delusions of grandeur had at this moment deemed it necessary to inform him of previous attempts; the situation was to the point of maddening. They were supposed to be partners in this. Not having to make trivial attempts at civility. He would acquiesce to this behavior for the moment. He had time. The boy and his Atua would be in his grasp soon. The snake could have the scraps when he was done.

Smirking and somewhat placated he rose from the gilded throne he had been sulking in to make his way to her "room." He needed to relieve some of this unwanted aggression. He knew, whether she did or not, that she would be the perfect answer to the problem.

Striding past 2 weak Uries, he sniffed in disdain. They had been foolish as well to think they could have succeeded against his predecessor. He could have told any of the filthy mongrels that they would pay for what they would even dream of. They still plotted, he knew. He could hear the whispers through the drafty halls. And they would pay. They would all pay. He would make sure of that.

Feeling especially frisky at the time he paused to slap the female and kick the male to make her fall and him double over. They dropped the dishes they were carrying from, most likely, the rooms of one of the Renges. "Pick those up, you beasts. If one of your superiors even stubs a toe on any sliver of this mess, I will have you both sent to the Dark!" He basked in the satisfaction of seeing them cower before him. He was a god. Their God. He held their pathetic, worthless lives in his hands. He was the entire reason for their fear. For their existence.

Cackling, he searched for the hall that would lead him to her room. Once he had calmed down, he started thinking of his tiny Hummingbird. By Dravol, but she was so beautiful. She had not Succumbed to him yet. He was growing impatient. She knew that. She knew everything. And yet she would not let him Have her, at least not completely. When he thought of all the things he could do to her an unseen shudder passed through his body. He was all too aware that with time he would be able to feel himself within her. She was well Gaurded, as are all the women such as her. She must Give herself, not be taken as a Tori. She would feel so good against his body as he-

"Lucien! Lucien, are you alright, luv?" Shake. Shake. "For God's sake, Lucien, please wake up." Shake, shake, shake, shake.

He opened his eyes wide, sitting up straight and flailing his arms in defense. For a moment he didn't know where he was. When his eyes lit on the floor to Hermione's frightened face, he was brought back to earth.

Lucien jumped off the couch to help Hermione into a sitting position, instantly forgetting the dream, like always. "Ah, crap, Hermosa, are jou ok? I didn't hurt jou or not'ing, did I?" He hadn't realized his accent had suddenly appeared.

Startled, Hermione looked him up and down before pausing to meet his eye. "I'm very well, thank you, Lucien." She stood up and dusted herself off, all the while giving him a small smile. "I would have asked the same of you. I thought you were having a nightmare. Now it appears that it was quite the opposite."

He looked at her and cocked his head in confusion from where he was still squatting. Then he noticed she was still smirking at him. She was looking at his... He checked. He now realized why his pants were so uncomfortably tight. Mierda! Swinging around so quickly he nearly knocked down the oil lamp, Lucien grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around himself. He couldn't face her. He could feel his face go red. "Hermione, I am so very, very, very sorry. This hasn't happened in-"

He was interrupted by Hermione's loud, bubbling laughter. "Oh, Lucien, do shut up." He looked around to stare at her, but only his head and shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to face her completely. She flapped a hand at him in mock irritability, not pulling it off in the slightest due to the uncontrollable giggling. "Luv, please. My two best friends are boys. And it's not like I don't know anything about male physiology. Now, go take a shower, I'm assuming a cold one, and I'll go get some breakfast for us." With those stunning parting words Hermione checked her hair in the mirror and left shaking her head.

Lucien stood staring at the closed door for a few minutes. Goddamn, she was so cool! She always seemed so in control, like she had a plan. Hermosa made him feel at home just by being around her. But in a lot of ways she was still an enigma. He threw the blanket on his couch and made his way to the bedroom as he thought, Must be why we get along so well. We're both fun to be around but we're always at a distance.

Lucien wanted to start his day off perfectly and to do that he liked to take some time to perfect his ensemble. That and the clothes he was wearing were getting uncomfortable. He riffled through his clothes bag and chose his formfitting bright blue Ambercrombie and Fitchshort-sleaved shirt, tight, faded jeans and blue sandals. He had a fleeting thought of buying some more red clothes to match his wand before undressing and pulling on the maroon bathrobe and slippers so generously provided by the endearing Mr. Fellowsworth. He still wore his necklace. He would only take it off in the bathroom, where he could see it. Stuffing his clothes into his "witchy" bag, as he had dubbed it, he made his way into the bathroom. Picking out his clothes had helped him get himself under control slightly, but not by much.

He stopped when he reached the threshold and spun. Walking briskly across the room he grabbed the diary of his mother that was tucked away in the bunny bag. A flash of the photo album caught his eye and he suddenly remembered the weirdness of photos he had seen last night. Lucien shook his head. Shower now, drama later, he thought standing up.

The bathroom was a surprise. It didn't look like the rest of the suite. The tub was so big it was close to a jacuzzi. Everything was white with the a trim of gold. The jacuzzi/tub had a fountainhead made from a fancy jar. The nozzles for the hot and cold water were made of crystals. The sink took up half the wall on the other side. As he walked towards it he saw all different kinds of oils. Kinky, he thought as he picked up the strawberry bath oil.

He looked around again... And saw the ceiling. Tacky. It was angels. A large one was in the center she had long brown hair. When he looked at the face he dropped the oil, not noticing as it spilled on the floor. It was Senorita Busty! He was now completely sure that he did not need a cold shower anymore.

Lucien tried to run out of the Room from Hell but as he turned he slipped on the stupid oil. He let the pain pass as he rubbed the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw the horrifying image of the scariest woman he had ever seen. Scrambling to his feet, clutching his bag to his chest, he rushed out of the suite and nearly ran into Hermione who was carrying a tray of eggs, bacon and orange juice. He helped steady the tray and the girl herself without spilling anything before squaring his shoulders. He pointed into his suite. "Bathroom. Ceiling... Look." It was all Lucien could say.

She gave him a suspicious eye only for a moment. Hermione walked into the living room, set the tray on the table then cautiously made her way to the bathroom. All was silent for a few second before ear splitting laughter emanated from the small room. Lucien let this go on for about three minutes until he couldn't stand it anymore. He marched into the living room and collapsed into the couch. The one that wasn't facing the bathroom. Pouting into the fireplace, he yelled so she could hear, "Are you done yet?"

She came out still laughing clutching her sides. Once she was under control she put her hand on his shoulder. "If you want, Lucien, you can use my washroom. I can wait until you're done. Consider this a thank you. I haven't laughed this much in a twenty-four hour period for a long time. I could use some breakfast in any case."

He leaned his head back so he could see her upside down. "So your bathroom isn't something out of an M. Night Shyamalan film?"

She chuckled under her breath. Lucien was starting to like that laugh. "No, decidedly not." Hermione pushed his shoulder lightly. "Now, go get ready. We don't have all day."

Lucien raised an eyebrow before asking, "You have stuff planned? Already?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Brat."

"Whiner," she said calmly.

"Mean... lady... person!" He couldn't think of anything wittier than that at 9 in the morning.

Hermione was nonplussed. "The quicker you get ready, the quicker you can eat your food. The slower you are, the colder it gets."

"Awww," he intoned. Lucien stood up and clasped his hands under his chin while giving his best puppy dog eyes. "But you won't let me starve, Hermosa. You wuv me." He was sadly disappointed when Hermione crossed her arms, cocked her hip, and raised an eyebrow. Obviously the girl had not gotten the memo on the power of "The Lucien Puppy-Dog Look." He dropped his stance and glowered at her. "Fine, I'll hurry up. Keep my food warm though, please?"

"I'll keep it heated for 15 minutes."

"You're a bully!"

"Room 235. It's unlocked." She pointed out the door.

Lucien humphed and stalked out the door down the hall. He couldn't stop his lip from curling into a slight smile. He had yet to meet someone outside of his family that could match wits with him like Hermione could. This was going to be a fun Summer.

He heard a door close in front of him so he looked up and forced a scowl not to appear on his face. There, walking towards him with an exaggerated hip sway, was none other than our dear Apolla Fellowsworth. She had changed into jean capris that were WAY too tight. They had a yellow flower design going up one side that looped around the pelvic area to point down. The top was an off-white halter with a v cut ending with a yellow chrysanthemum pin. The pin accentuated her already overly accentuated bust size. Her boots were a light brown color that stopped where her capris did. He would have liked the outfit if it wasn't worn by the most vile girl he had ever met.

"Hello, stranger." Her voice grated his insides. He was surprised when she put her arms around him in a smothering hug. Not so surprised, though that he didn't remember that under his robe he was wearing an uncomfortable amount of nothing. Before he could say anything, however, she pulled her head back arms still wrapped around his neck, and continued. "I want to apologize for my atrocious behavior towards you earlier. I have just come out of a bad relationship and I saw you and well..." She let her voice drift off.

He scratched his head feeling more than a little foolish standing in a foreign inn, being molested by a British Brittany Spears wanna-be. The way she draped her arms around him reminded Lucien of an educational show that he had caught Catalina watching when she was seven. It was about monkeys.

Lucien lightly put his hands on her hips, intending to gently shift her off of him. He desperately wanted to explain that he knew something about bad breakups and that he really didn't mind what she had said before, even though he did -anything to get her large Behemoth Boobs off of him- but froze as he heard a door open almost right behind him.

"Lucien, you were so terrified that you forgot you clothes. I swear..." Hermione's voice trailed off. Most likely because she saws the hands now clasped to his neck. Lucien was taller than both of them so they couldn't see each other. When Hermione spoke next, her voice held barely suppressed laughter. "Oh, you have company. Well, I'll just put your clothes back inside. You can come get them when you need them."

The Double D-mon's face contorted into one of pure hatred. She looked around Lucien's arm and graced Hermione with her lovely features. "Yes, we're having a private conversation, you filthy, little mudblood, so go find somewhere else to pollute."

Lucien froze and stared at the girl in his arms. He was completely stunned. Never had he met a woman who was so cruel. He had heard a lot of things in his life as a San Franciscan, but this was too much. People got angry in the city but they, in his experience, didn't actually act like this, at least not without a reason. She didn't live in the slums. She didn't need to live off food stamps. She lived in an inn and obviously had enough money to buy nice clothes. What excuse did she have? He forced his face to go neutral and dropped his arms, feeling his muscles tense. Hermione must have seen his reaction because she hadn't said anything yet.

"Let me go," Lucien said softly, almost whispering.

Apolla, who had been giving Hermione a smug smile, stopped and looked back into Lucien's face. She jumped back as if stung. Composing herself, she put her hands on her hips and tried, unconvincingly to assert herself. "Excuse me, but-"

Lucien stopped her mid sentence with a slash of his hand. "I was going to, Miss Fellowsworth, I really was, but your immediate actions here against my friend were inexcusable. I respect women, but you, madam, have forced my hand. Try to talk to me or to Ms. Granger again before we leave this very morning, and you will not take kindly to my own actions. Now, leave my sight before I say something all parties present will deeply regret."

Apolla was staring at his eyes with her mouth gaping. He knew, even as he spoke that his irises had gone from a light shade of blue to a misty gray to a deep, swirling dark gray. Again she composed herself and was about to say something else, but Hermione's kindly, melodic voice came from Lucien's left. "Please, Apolla, do as he says." She put a hands on his elbow, steadying him emotionally.

Apolla looked between them before raising her nose in the air. She turned and walked off, but both Hermione and Lucien could tell she had lost some of her bounce. She was also walking slightly faster than normal.

Lucien would have stayed there, standing in the hallway seething, if Hermione hadn't tightened her grip on his arm and steered him towards room 235. She opened the door with one hand, the other still pulling him by the arm.

When they got inside, Hermione turned Lucien to face her, but he wasn't seeing her. She knew that he was still back in that hallway, thinking of that... girl. Lightly, she put her finger tips to his chin and tilted his face to look at her. Lucien relaxed a notch but his frame was shaking. Hermione felt oddly sick. So much anger,she thought. Someone like Lucien shouldn't be this angry.

Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She hugged him. It took a while for him to respond but he finally leaned against her. Lucien brought his arms up to cling to her shirt. He was still shaking ever so slightly, but strangely she knew he wasn't angry as much as before. He would be alright now.

He pulled back and looked like he was about to make a ridiculous apology, but Hermione stopped him with two fingers to his lips. "Go take a bath to calm down," She said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll get the food."

He nodded as she handed him his bag of clothes. When he got into the blissfully plain bathroom and started the bath water, he briefly thanked whoever was up there listening that he had met Hermosa.