Heir of Fury
Chapter 2
-Wrath-
Bouncing eagerly, Wrath stepped through the serpent hole that his Uncle's friend, Vulgrim, had said would spit them out into a place called 'Knockturn Alley' which connects to Diagon Alley. Behind him, his family stepped out of the serpent hole, various cloaked people eyeing them from shops and corners. "Where are we going?" he asked, looking up at his Uncle Death whose bone mask peered out.
"Towards that marble building." Death pointed to the building that was visible over the buildings of Knockturn Alley.
"First, yous gots to pay the toll." A dim voice spoke up as they saw a group step out of a dark alley to their side, the speaker standing taller than his friends and smelling absolutely foul. Slightly dumbfounded, Wrath glanced at his family, the four Horsemen equally stunned at the sheer idiocy.
"You want to handle this or should I?" War asked, looking at Death who couldn't look any more bored.
"What, don't trust me to do it?" Strife sulked, Fury rolling her eyes at her brothers.
"Don't you look down on us!" the would-be mugger yelled, whipping out a stick and firing a bolt of light at Wrath. The spell didn't even get halfway to him before a bladed whip cut it out of the air, his mother snarling with her magic crackling about her like a storm.
"…Fury can handle it." War decided, turning a protesting Wrath around as the Alley was filled with the muggers screams of pain and fear.
"Wow…didn't know human limbs bent that way." Strife mused, tilting his head like a confused dog as Fury brutalized the muggers.
"Come Wrath, your mother can catch up once she's had her fun." Death sighed, eyes flitting about as if daring anyone else to try something.
"Okay Death." He nodded, following his Uncles as they walked towards the brighter alley in the distance, his mother joining them after a few minutes, flicking some blood from her gauntlets. "So this is where you found me mom?" he asked Fury as she returned.
"Not here, it was on some random porch." Fury frowned, "Someone had left you there in the middle of winter as a baby."
"Um…am I the only one noticing the looks we're getting from people." Strife asked as they stepped into what Wrath assumed was Diagon alley. Looking about Wrath saw that his uncle was right as several people in the alley were looking at the five of them with fear.
"No, the looks I'm getting." Death rolled his glowing orange eyes as people whispered and pointed in fear, the muttered declaration of 'Death Eater' audible to him.
"Ignore them." War snorted out, his giant stature making those around him back up rapidly, "The fear of the sheep means nothing."
"Halt!" a trio of people in red robes approached them, sticks and badges out and pointed their direction, "You are under arrest for being a Death Eater!"
"No." Death didn't even look their direction, the group still walking towards the bank as the trio in red robes look gobsmakced.
"You can't do that!" the leader of the trio yelled irately.
"Watch me." Death was as unphased as always, much to Wrath's amusement as they continued towards the Bank. Without warning, the leader of the trio fired a spell at Death who moved faster than the humans, apart from Wrath, could see, blocking the attack with his scythe which was stowed away in a blur. Slowly, Death turned his head slightly and glared at the trio, "Trust me, you don't want to do this." He said coldly.
"Put your hands up in the air and surrender peacefully!" the leader ordered, not taking Death's offer to stand down.
Turning to face them fully, Wrath could feel Death's scowl "Are you positive you want to do this?" Death gave them one final warning. When they tightened their grips on the sticks in their hands Death snorted and hurled one of his scythes, the blade flying like a saw through the air, cutting through the sticks before returning to Death's hand and back into his Uncle's cloak. Upon seeing their destroyed sticks the trio panicked and ran away, disappearing with a crack a moment later.
"What did I tell you brother," War snorted out derisively "nothing but sheep."
"I'm liking the thought of Wrath learning here less and less the longer we stay." Fury frowned, the quintet finally reaching the marble steps of the bank. Inside the building they could see a plethora of small grey skinned creatures, their long spindly fingers counting out gold and jewels atop counters. At the doors, they could see much larger and stronger creatures with the same grey skin and pointed features stood, adorned in armor with pikes
"Halt." The larger creatures called out, blocking the doors with their pikes, "Surrender your weapons."
"Over my dead body." War scowled, the metal fingers of his prosthetic arm cracking as the horseman clenched his fist.
"That can be ar-" the creature was cut off when War punched it in the face, the guard's body going tumbling and rolling into the bank as all eyes turned towards the group.
"As I said," War growled out, the mark on his forehead glowing brighter "you can have it when you take it from my cold, dead, fingers." The second guard wisely raised the pike and backed up a step, "Wise choice." The humans in the bank looked stunned at them as they entered, the punched guard climbing back to his feet.
"Name." the warry teller asked as they approached a counter, the humans quickly moving to another line at their approach.
"We've come to see if my son, Wrath the Furious, possesses any money at the bank." Fury said, resting a hand on Wrath's shoulder as he stepped up to the counter. The creature studied him for a moment before his eyes snapped open wide.
"Heir Potter?!" the small grey skinned creature exclaimed as the humans began whispering and pointing in excitement.
"My son does not go by that ridiculous name." his mother scowled out as he wrinkled his nose at the weird moniker.
"He has been missing for the past ten years." The teller scowls and begins to raise his hand.
"Then ask the person who left him on a random doorstep in the middle of winter." Fury scowled out, showing why his mother had earned her name as she growls, "I found my son screaming and crying as he lay atop the stone."
"I…see." The teller trailed off, looking unsure how to proceed as the witches and wizards in the bank began talking. Wrath frowned at the titles he heard such as 'Heir Potter, and 'the-boy-who-lived'. "He is the heir to the Potter family whom I know possess a vault with our bank. Do you have their key?"
"No." Wrath frowned, his family shaking their heads as well.
"I cannot allow you into the Potter vaults without the key. The teller said firmly, "Good day. Next." With that the teller looked to the people behind them in line, summarily dismissing them.
"Who would have the key?" Fury demanded from the teller, refusing to be ignored.
"Whoever the Ministry assigned as Heir Potter's guardian before you…'adopted' him, now good day."
"Come on, let's go find this ministry." Strife snorted, "Although I get to mess with the next idiot, you three already had your turns." With that they exited the bank, walking down the marble steps only to see dozens of witches and wizards in red robes pointing sticks at them. Behind the wall of red robes he saw a trio of other people, one was a woman with a monocle with a different version of the red robes. The second was a man lime green who was all but hiding behind the woman with the monocle. The third was a strange creature who looked like a toad.
"Surrender in the name of the Ministry!" the lead man in red, this one being a dark-skinned bald man who seemed vaguely more competent than his fellows, ordered, dozens of sticks pointed their way.
A dark chuckle spoke up from behind Wrath as Strife stepped past him, "My turn." His Uncle smirked before whipping out Mercy and Redemption as the twin pistols fired, bullets flying as the wands of the red robed figures snapped in their hands without shedding a drop of blood. Ignoring the panicked cries of the disarmed witches and wizards, Strife shot forward, weaving in between them before their ranks before pointing the pistols to the trio at the back of the ranks, eventually deciding the woman in red was the larger threat. "How rude of you all." Strife smirked, "Pointing your pathetic little sticks at us without even a by your leave?"
"You all are under arrest for being Death Eaters." The woman in red declared, tensing in preparation to retaliate.
"Piece of advice toots," Strife smirked at the woman as the green robed man was now hiding behind the toad creature "explain what that means before you start attacking people. Some of us don't take too kindly to behavior like that."
"B-b-b-but that man is in a Death Eater mask!" the green hatted man yelled, pointing at Death only to squeak in fear when Strife pointed Redemption between the man's eyes.
"Cease pointing those filthy muggle things at the Minister!" the toad exclaimed irately, showing more anger than fear.
"Enough." War intoned, bringing out Chaoseater, stabbing the sword into the ground with a boom as it cut through the marble steps with ease.
"You threatened my brothers, you threatened my son." Fury hissed, cracking her bladed whip as she staled down the steps, heels clicking on the marble.
"And nobody threatens our family." Death hissed, bringing out the twin scythes and dropping into a stance, the four horsemen pulsing with power. Nodding in agreement, Wrath drew the serpentine blade Affliction, moving to stand beside his family only to yelp as one of his uncle's ghouls picked him up to prevent him from joining the fight.
"Wrath, I don't think you'll be going to this Hogwarts place." Fury scowled, "Too much idiocy here."
"Who?" the green clothed man looked confused only to spot Wrath, "My word, it's Harry Potter!"
"That's not my name!" Wrath yelled, getting irritated at having to repeat that, his aura dancing around him like fire as the nervous Ghoul set him down.
"Although it is almost fortuitous that you come to us," Death lazily spun his scythes, "saves us the trouble of going to find you."
"If you want a fight you've got one." The woman with the monocle quickly drew her own stick and ducked under Strife's guns, moving faster than the other humans they'd seen but still nowhere near Strife's speed as his Uncle restrained her.
"We want what belongs to my temperamental little nephew." Strife smirked, "His Gringotts account key, the little teller said your ministry would know who would have it. I assume it's the same person who abandoned my nephew out in the cold as a baby." The normally joking Strife was practically snarling at the end, eyes and pistols gleaming.
"Abandoned?" the monocled woman frowned, "I think you five and I need to have a talk."