Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Hellboy. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am simply a humble author working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love.
Note: Gonna be a pretty major departure from the movie in this chapter, but that is mainly because I can't see Harry's influence allowing things to play out the same way this time.
Note: This chapter marks the end of book one. Book two is already in the works and it will cover the blood war with Voldemort.
Chapter Three - A Russian Adventure
Before leaving for Moscow several things needed doing first. Broom was focused on keeping the idiot in charge of their department from making the unilateral decision to accompany the ground team in a command position. This was done by both logic and threat. Logic was used to explain to Director Manning that he was a bureaucrat with no real tactical knowledge or experience, and that he would slow the team down more than be useful. Threats were used to explain that if he insisted on coming, Harry would curse all of his cigars to taste like literal shit. The prospect of the professor himself going along was raised, but the man himself turned it down. In his own words, he was not sure how far the protection of the Spearhead would go, and he didn't want to test it needlessly.
After that a plane needed to be charted, cargo loaded, and manifests verified. Even a clandestine corner of the FBI needed a paper trail after all. Even if it was for supplies that would never be seen again.
Then it was a matter of getting the crew together. Harry was ready right away of course. Everything he needed was already in his bugout bag, and that was always on his person, shrunken in one of his pockets.
The other two set to go on this endeavor were not present on the subterranean runway when Harry arrived, so he of course went searching for them. It took ten minutes and he eventually tracked them to Red's room, where they seemed to be having an emotionally charged conversation of a sort. Liz's hands were being held in Hellboy's, tenderly and with care.
Immediately he ducked behind the nearest door and silenced himself with magic. It seemed his brother was finally working up the courage to tell Liz how he felt and there was no way in hell he was interrupting that.
Liz was speaking, "Red, this isn't the right time for this."
"It's the only time." The bigger man spoke, a rare tremor of nerves filling his voice. "Liz, I almost lost my dad tonight, and I just found out I still can if his cancer isn't cured. I sometimes forget how short and abrupt life can be, and I don't want to let that stop me. I don't want to go on this mission, where anything can happen, without telling you how I feel about you."
"Red-"
"Please." Hellboy pleaded, his eyes meeting the woman's in front of him. "This is hard enough, just let me finish."
Liz bit her lip, and nodded. From his hiding place Harry smirked, he knew that look. Liz was flattered.
Hellboy continued, "I understand what you don't like about me, I do. What I am… makes you feel a little out of place, out there…" He gestured toward the ceiling before returning his hand to hers. "You want to feel normal, like you belong up there, it's why you dated those other guys in the past, like Myers, and Raithe, and I can't give you that." A sad look crossed his features then as he bent his head and ran his fingers from the sanded stubs of his horns to the red skin of his face. "I wish I could do something about this. Make it something the world could accept standing beside you, but I can't." He looked up then, and resolute determination was present, "I can promise you two things. One, I'll always look this good." Liz's face cracked into a fond grin as Red continued, "And two, I'll never give up on you. Ever. I love you, Elizabeth Sherman. I have since the moment I first met you."
For a moment a look of shock came across the woman's face at the blatant statement of something she'd known for a while, but Hellboy took the look as something else entirely and tried to pull away.
He let go of her hands and started to turn toward the door, "Well, I said it. We should get to the plane right-" His words were cut off as the brunette fire starter retook control of his hands and dragged him back in front of her.
"Hey, don't leave yet. Those things you said, I liked them. A lot."
"But that look?" Red was clearly confused and not for the first time Harry mourned the painful lack of experience his big brother had with the fairer sex.
Liz smiled warmly and ran her hand up her oldest friend's face. "I was just shocked to hear you actually say that you loved me. I was worried you'd never work up the courage to actually do it."
"Worried?" Hope was entering clearly into his voice and Liz nodded.
"You're right, I did want to be normal. For the longest time, and I've only recently started to realize how much that want blinded me to the things that were right in front of me all this time. Including you. I don't need you to make me feel normal, I need you to make me feel loved, and you do that in spades." Slowly, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his for a tender moment before coming back down. "Plus, the idea of a fireproof partner that always looks like you is pretty hot." She smirked before reaching up to grip the remainder of his horns. "All of you."
Instead of answering verbally, Red leaned down to capture her lips once more and Harry beat the hell out of there. He had no wish to see his big brother and someone he loved as a sister getting dirty. Ugh.
Nearly two hours later he was waiting on the plane when the two of them finally showed up, clothes rumpled, goofy smiles on their faces, and go-bags ready. The director had tried to have Hellboy shipped over to Moscow in a packing crate, but both Harry and the professor had nixed the idea. Easily arguing that they were taking private transport and no one that didn't know about him was even going to be on it.
Happy as he was for the new couple, Harry couldn't help giving them both a shit-eating grin and asking, "So… who was the top?" He immediately ducked a fireball, courtesy of Liz, complained about the danger of a fire on an air craft, and got a rock fisted punch to the gut for his troubles.
As he bent over, helplessly trying to get any air back in his lungs that he could, he wheezed out, "Worth it." and collapsed into the nearest chair. Five minutes later Hellboy sat in the larger seat next to him and the wizard raised his hand for a stealthy high five that was quickly returned before Liz could see it.
Moscow
Imperial Graveyard
It was with a collective sigh of relief that the trio hopped off the rusted flatbed truck that had carried them from the airport to this desolate place. No one liked travel, and certainly not travel that took several hours. Liz had made it through the entirety of two iPod playlists, Red had started doing push ups and crunches after the first hour, and Harry had completely finished his tenth reread of the Fellowship of the Ring (then promptly debated with himself for the hundredth time if he should get a sword). Needless to say, all felt the need to stretch their legs a bit.
However now that they had arrived, they weren't exactly clear on where to go. Sure, they knew that the goal was to reach Rasputin's tomb, but there were no records as to its exact location.
"Whelp," Hellboy pulled a particularly ornamented crucifix from one of his many belt pouches, "time to ask the locals for directions."
Harry shuddered at the sight of the object. "Damn but I hate necromancy."
Red huffed, "Necromancy implies I'm bringing these creeps back body and soul. You know I only bring back the soul, and the trip is definitely temporary."
"Still… just do it."
Hellboy shrugged, raised his stone fist, and slammed it through the grating of a fine looking mausoleum before raising his crucifix high and walking inside. He came out a few seconds later with the frozen remains of a hanged corpse over his shoulder. It was hissing out all manner of abuse in his ear.
Harry cringed at some of the vulgarity being displayed and mentally locked a few choice phrases in his internal dictionary for later use. "You want to know what he's saying?" He asked helpfully, seeing as he was the only one of them that actually spoke Russian.
"Nah," his brother waved him off, "he's dead. Means I can understand him perfectly since I brought him back. Anyway, he says we need to go north." So saying he took off at a brisk walk with his team hot on his heels. Weather the corpse enjoyed the brisk air, or just wanted to fuck with them, he sure took his time with giving his directions. By the end they'd been walking for a solid couple hours before finally arriving at the right place.
The tomb had a stone arch and a bare interior, but a quick perusal of the space showed a hidden switch that descended a rotating staircase into the depths of the earth.
"Okay, so this is definitely a trap right?" Harry asked. When no answer was forthcoming he kept going, "Trapdoor, deep descent in darkness, ominous rickety steps… this is a textbook trap."
"Yes, Harry, we know." Red groused before drawing his gun and taking point. "We just don't have a lot of other options right now."
Liz raised a hand and engulfed it in blue flame to light the way, "Sadly, he's right." she said as she followed her new boyfriend below.
Harry sighed and cast a floating lumos above his head. "Bunch of fucking targets we are." He joked as he took the first few steps himself. "Might as well run the full gambit and jinx ourselves right now. Here I go, 'what could possibly go wrong.' There, now we're right fucked as this situation demands."
Things were steady for a while from there. They made it to the floor level below, crossed through a few tunnels, and eventually made it to a single stone bridge leading across an expanse to a large structure on the other side. The smattering of stalagmites pointing dangerously up at them from the pit below the bridge was not encouraging in the least.
"So… you know how I said that we were walking into a trap earlier?" Harry chirped, earning an annoyed groan from his older brother.
"Harry…."
"Look, I'm just saying-"
"Harry stop." It was Liz this time.
Unwilling to avoid the stereotype of the situation, Harry just had to finish, "I'm just saying that this would be the ideal time for that trap to kick in. There, done, I've said it."
"And jinxed us in the process." Red snarled, though there was no real malice in the sound. They were at the bridge then, Hellboy still in the lead.
"Way I see it we're already jinxed if we're walking around in a giant booby trap-" Harry cut off as the sound of clanking gears started up all around them and immediately grabbed Liz before leaping backward as a giant stone hammer swept across the expanse from the far wall to smash into not only the bridge ahead of them, but Hellboy himself, sweeping the smooshed investigator away with its forward trajectory.
For his part, Harry did his best to ignore the accusing glare of his best friend and just apparated them both to the far side of the pit and a waiting open door. A few minutes later, after the same hammer had smashed a larger chunk of the bridge away, getting closer to their position every time, Red hopped clear off of it (none the worse for wear) and rolled to a stop right in front of them.
"That… was not fun." He stated simply before pushing the other two inside and away from any other danger. The interior of the space, near as they could tell, was probably where that clock-geared, patch-work, nazi had been staying. It was a large room, full of various handmade tools, gears, cogs, and masks. A place for maintenance if they'd ever seen one. Needless to say, they took a few pictures for their files and got the hell up out of there.
Next thing was a twenty minute descent down several flights of stone carved stairs to a winding network of roughly hewn tunnels. This time it was Liz that became the voice of doom.
"There's gonna be a monster down here isn't there?" She groaned, well used to such places from her previous excursions in the BPRD.
"Liz, you too?" Red couldn't help but chuckle this time. By the gods he loved his family and friend's dark and often fatalistic sense of humor. It was a lot like his own.
"Well what do you expect, Red? Can you honestly tell me this doesn't remind you of Bosnia? Or Chile? What about Serbia or that time in the Vatican?"
"I'm sure this time will. be. different…" Red shut his mouth as they came to another open space, this time full of several deep pools of water, twin mountains of what had to be eggs, and a quartet of Samael monsters prowling toward their newly acquired meals.
Liz groaned and lit her hands up, "What did I say? Just like Bosnia." And just like that she shot her hands forward and flame engulfed the first monster as it charged. Hellboy took another head on, stone fist smashing, and Harry led the other two away from the rest with a rapid apparition technique he liked to call the flash-step. Constant movement, yet always stopping just long enough to be seen and followed by his target.
Every time it happened he also followed up with either a bullet from his favorite Glock, or a cutting spell aimed at an arm or leg. He'd seen Red toss the grenades at the nest the moment the party started and he knew that meant he only needed to buy some time.
Twenty seconds later his monsters were shuddering on the floor bleeding out, Elizabeth was standing triumphant over a burnt corpse, staring at her hands in satisfaction, and Red… Red was pounding the last of his foes into a shallow pool as a suddenly loud ticking in the air announced the five second warning.
His companions were too far apart, and there wasn't enough time to apparate them both a safe enough distance away. A single look into his brother's eyes made it clear what he wanted, and half a second later he was apparating back to the workshop above, Liz in his arms. They arrived just in time to hear and feel the massive boom below that signaled the explosion.
Before his friend could give him the laying into that her red face made clear she was very much building up to, Harry raised a hand and said, "Two things. First, Red can survive an explosion like that, you cannot. Second, I can literally teleport us right back down there."
Elizabeth opened and closed her mouth one, twice, and finally said, "I hate it when you use logic. It makes it unfair to rant at you."
He chuckled tightly. "That's kind of the point, Liz. Now come on, let's go get that overgrown ape we both love out of whatever crater he's curled up in." His friend nodded, and taking his hand they both disappeared only to turn up in the same room, now much altered. The walls and floor were scorched, crushed rock and debris lied every which way, and most importantly, the eggs were no more. Vaporized in the explosion along with the corpses of the monsters.
An extensive search revealed no sign of Red, but they did find a new side passage leading somewhere further off. It had definitely not been there before which meant a secret passage was likely.
Harry held a silent conversation with his partner and together they decided to follow it. It would have taken a lot more than that explosion to take their third member out, and the only reason he wouldn't have been waiting for them for a pickup was if he had been taken. They had no intention of leaving him here.
For his part, Hellboy was waking up to the mother of all headaches, and the annoying sensation of finding himself bound onto a weirdly oversized metal cog. (What was it with this Russian guy's clockwork fetish?) A wooden implement of some kind binding both of his hands up by his neck. He tried to bust his way out of it but when it didn't work he looked closer and saw a series of strange symbols carved into the wood surrounding his stone hand.
Then he saw the Russian asshole behind all of this mess, standing in front of a giant stone alter, and reading from a great black book.
"And I looked, and beheld an angel." Rasputin stared at a nearby statue of an angel with a golden key in its hand before looking to a white obelisk beside his alter, devotion clear in his gaze. "And in his right hand, the key to the bottomless pit." He turned and beheld his prisoner full on. "These were the words I heard as a peasant boy in Tobolsk. And now," he closed his book and pointed directly at the obelisk, "the door sent by the Ogdru Jahad, so that they might at long last enter our world."
Red tried once more to get free and the man said, "That lock is inscribed with your true name. You cannot remove it yourself."
Across the room a female voice intoned, "You are the key, the right hand of doom." A quick look revealed a blond woman with a German accent. No doubt the partner the professor had mentioned seeing Rasputin with all those years ago on the island in Scotland. She continued, "That stone hand, what did you think it was made for? You were brought to this dimension for one purpose and one purpose only. To break the locks of the Ogdru Jahad and bring them forth."
"She is right." Rasputin stepped around the alter and folded his hands reverently before him. "All these years, all this struggle, has led to this moment. You will open the gate. It is your destiny, and my command."
For all of three seconds there was silence following this proclamation, and then Hellboy burst out laughing. He carried it on for a while, delighting in the way the bald man's face pinched with annoyance. Then he said, "Buddy, you don't command shit. I ain't summoning nothing that could destroy this world as long as the people I care about are on it."
"But why not?" the old wizard hissed and stalked forward to stand right in front of his prisoner. "There is nothing left that you care about or love. Your adopted father, dead. Killed by my subordinate. Your brother and lover? Killed in the explosion that ended the life of Samael for good. The BPRD? They've only ever wanted to use you, not respect you. What in this world is worth denying your very purpose for?" Rasputin was genuinely confused. He'd been sure that the moment he brought this monster before the obelisk his inherent instincts would kick in and he'd be itching to let the old gods free, but it wasn't happening. He didn't even have the leverage to force him anymore because that idiot girl had died in the explosion. All that work to get her out of the asylum wasted! He was broken out of his musings by his captive spitting on his foot and shooting down his points.
"It's almost funny, how everything you said was wrong. First, my old man is definitely alive. He killed Kroenen himself. Second, I don't buy for one second that something as ordinary as an explosion is enough to knock my little brother off the face of this earth. Third, the BPRD doesn't want to use me. Honestly if they could get rid of me they probably would, but they fear me enough to let me do my job, and they know that no one else could do it better. I'm good with that." A glint in the corner of the room caught his eye and he winked at the Russian with good humor. "And I think it's about time for that job to get done."
A loud bang reverberated in the otherwise silent chamber and before the eyes of all present, the wooden stock holding Hellboy prisoner exploded just as his right arm shot forward, gripped Rasputin's neck, and clamped shut, a loud crack echoing horrendously for all to hear.
"No!" The blond started to rush at him with a mallet of some kind in her hand, only to be consumed in a rampaging wall of azure flame. It was followed immediately by a worried Liz, rushing over from her hiding space to embrace her man as he assured her he was alright. Harry came at a more sedate pace, his favorite Glock tucked back into his expanding pockets.
The wizard stopped for a moment before the titular obelisk, reached into the aforementioned pockets, retrieved an RG-6 grenade launcher, and promptly blew the infernal thing to hell.
"You good?" He asked when he reached the embracing couple.
"Yeah." Red answered, "Nest is burned to nothing, the bad guy's neck is snapped," he pulled Liz close and kissed her forehead, "and I got the girl. Seems like it all ended for the good." Of course he had to be the one to jinx it this time, as just as he spoke those final words, Rasputin's body started twitching and twisting all over the floor as strange tendrils began to move beneath the skin of his face.
"I just had to speak too soon." The investigator growled before dragging Liz across the room with Harry on his heels until they had a solid wall to look over at what was coming. As they watched, the remains of Rasputin's body exploded, splattering the surrounding area (and the front of their wall) with bit and shreds of gore and refuse, leaving in their place a writhing, wriggling, mass of tentacle and flesh that before their very eyes seemed to be growing by the second.
"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed. "He brought his god back with him."
"Looks that way." Red popped open his gun, emptied his regular ammunition and entered his special blend instead. Hollow point, interior laced with holy water blessed by the pope himself, and silver inlays to add a little kick. He'd yet to meet a baddie that hadn't experienced some manner of suffering from that combination. "You ready to kill a god?"
Harry shoved right hand into his pocket and came out with long barreled shotgun with a drum magazine. His ammo wasn't as arcane as his big brother's but he was using dragon's breath rounds, and those suckers tended to get the job done no matter what.
"What about me?" Liz stepped up, knowing she didn't have the martial ability to be effective in this fight.
Harry pointed to all the available exits in the space (there were a surprising number for a 'hidden' base underground). "We can't let this thing escape. I want you to build a wall of fire around us and keep it high. That thing almost looks like a cephalopod, so I can't imagine it'll like the heat that much."
"Got it."
As they'd been speaking, Red had torn a stone sword out of the grip of a nearby statue (why the damned things were in the room was anyone's bet. They certainly didn't fit the aesthetic.) and tossed it in his grip to settle the weight for a moment before coming back, blade in one hand and revolver in the other. "Let's get to it people. The world ain't gonna save itself."
Having said his piece, the red skinned man ran at the emergent god with a scream of primal fury, his brother hot on his heels, and Liz slowly raised her hands high, willing the particles of the air to vibrate, for friction to spark, for a spark to ignite, and for that ignition to create the purest of flames. Her will took form and an instant later the four of them found a massive wall of flickering blue death springing to life all around them. It was a cage match, and the only way out was to burn.
Red reached the target first, and grabbed its attention, steering its lashing tentacles away from Harry, and slicing them off whenever they got too close. He knew what needed to happen here, the beast was still growing, still coming into its power on this plane. Until it reached its maturity it was vulnerable.
While that was happening, Harry flash-stepped across the room, apparated up high and started firing rounds into the creature's face as fast as his finger could twitch. Fun fact about Dragon's breath shells, the bullets as well as the trail behind the shot ignite with crimson flame measuring in at 2.48 million Scolville heat units… the shots burned straight through the emerging god's head. This earned a horrifying screech, and the tentacles moved to track the wizard in its midst, only for Hellboy to use that temporary break to fire off some shots of his own, causing more damage, and filling the air with the pained cries of a being that should never have been born on this world.
"Harry! You got any dynamite?" Red yelled as he continued fire.
The wizard meanwhile, was popping in and out of the air to avoid the striking face tendrils of the god. "Dynamite? What do you take me for? A mid century prospector!"
"Really not the time for sass, but I appreciate the reference. Seriously, that suit of your got anything that'll go boom? We're running out of time here?" And indeed they were, both of them could see the rate of growth was starting to slow noticeably.
Harry thought about it for a moment before hissing in pain as one of the tentacles caught him between shifts, and knocked him bodily to the floor beside his brother. "Oof, yup there goes a rib. I fucking hate when that happens." The wizard searched his mental inventory and his grimace turned into a smirk as he reached into a breast pocket and yanked out a cloth sack. "Now that you mention it, I do have these."
"And those are?" Red warily watched as the cephalopodic monster starting rising high, ululating and pitching as if it were getting ready to start smashing its bulk around.
"Thermite grenades. Twenty-four of them."
"Why the hell do you have thermite grenades?"
"You really do not want to know, and this isn't the time for questions."
Red shook his head, "So how are you gonna use em?"
Harry cringed and said, "In a way that is really, really, going to suck. Keep its attention, big brother." So saying the wizard blinked away and once more Hellboy charged in to do battle. He had no idea what his sibling was up to, but by the gods did he trust him.
Meanwhile, Harry was spelling a line of incendiary wire over the pins of each grenade, and cast feather-light charms on them so they'd pull rapidly out of the sack when needed. Then he took a deep breath, mentally prepped the next series of spells in his head, and apparated up high one last time.
In the air he stared down at the writhing being and the moment he got a view down its tentacle filled maw he apparated again, this time right into the jaws of the beast. The moment he entered the wide orifice he cast a levitation spell on the firsts grenade and let it pull the rest out as well as he descended ever deeper, drawing out more and more of the deadly devices until, just as the last one left the sack, he turned, sighted on it, and squeezed the trigger of his shotgun to ignite it before immediately teleporting away.
The momentum carried with him however, and the agent found himself rolling ass over tea kettle several meters away before being able to turn and see the results of his work. They were spectacular.
Beneath the creature's skin vast embers of multicolored light burned into being, carving a vicious path through the entirety of its torso and eventually singing out of it entirely. It had no chance. In a mere matter of seconds everything that made up its internal composition had been burned, charred, and seared into naught but dust. There wasn't even time for a death throw before it fell over dead. Unfortunately, it fell right on top of Hellboy.
"Red!" Elizabeth dropped her hands, the defensive wall falling with them, and ran to the last place she'd seen her man.
Harry, meanwhile, dragged himself back to his feet, clutching his side and using his magic to try and will the rib to heal itself. It was a slow process. "Yeah," he muttered with good natured sarcasm, "leave the wounded guy behind why don't ya? I'm fine I guess, just a lot of pain when I breath."
"You're fine and you know it." Liz hollered back as she started lifting fleshy appendages away from her digging place. "By now you probably aren't even feeling it so get over here and help."
Harry sighed and took his hand away, the pain indeed gone from his efforts. Professor Broom's battlemage friends had been thorough in their education and the lessons had included the use of internal magic in the field to heal light amounts of damage. It was kind of annoying that she remembered that little bit of info. Made playful guilting impossible.
Together they kept digging until a red stone fist came up to meet them, Red doing most of the work to drag himself the rest of the way out. "You weren't kidding when you said that was going to suck, Harry." He wiped some of the creature's blood off his face and said, "Got any cleaning spells you can use? I don't think the cleaner can get this shit out of my coat. And I like this coat."
"I like my suit more." Harry groused, but waved his hand and cleaned them all up nonetheless. Even Liz found her outfit free of the dust and grime their cave adventures had accrued.
She surveyed the devastation all around them, as well as the still burning corpse of an infant god and asked, "What now? Even for us this is a bit of an odd situation."
Harry shrugged, reached into his ever spacious pockets and pulled out two previously clipped cigars and a set of matches. "Same thing as always I imagine." He handed one to his brother, lit it for him, and then saw to his own. Letting the sweet smoke from the tobacco fill his mouth before breathing it out. "Get back to the surface, let the brass know about what happened, and get the hell up out of Russia. I have no urge to stay long enough for Olga to find me."
He didn't smoke near as often as his brother, or with the same zealous loyalty to cigars. Rather, he did it whenever a major job was finished or if he desired to be relaxed and social with his family. With professor Broom, he often ended up smoking a pipe before the fireplace of the library. Often they talked about life and good books they'd read. With Red he lit up cigars, as in their present situation, and the two talked shit about their experiences and toasted jobs well done.
Liz smirked at her friend and asked, "What, don't want to see your KGB ex?"
"I didn't know she was in the KGB at the time." Harry objected, earning a snort of laughter from the brunette.
"She's blond, has a Russian accent, and kept 'running' into us on job sites all throughout eastern Europe for eight straight months. How did you not know?"
"I didn't want to know." Harry grew unnaturally serious, causing the brunette to feel a bit ashamed of making light of such a sore subject for her friend. It had been so long that she'd forgotten just how much that event had hurt him. "She was everything I wanted, and I didn't want to believe she was only using me for information on the BPRD. The day I found out she was KGB was one of the worst of my life." Forcing the memory away and tapping on his near endless pools of humor, he added "Besides, it's not like we'll ever be seeing her again." (hint for sequel).
Red blew out a bit of smoke and said, "Kid's right. Best to get on the move." He bumped shoulders with the brunette, "I promised to make you dinner after all. Any chance for a quick trip Harry?"
The man in question stretched for a moment and considered the distance. "I've been to the airport now so sure, but that distance with two passengers is gonna knock me out for a bit. You good carrying me?"
"Not a problem."
So it was that the three unsung saviors of the world made their way from the pits of the mad Russian priest, arriving at their privately booked airfield and making their speedy escape onto the waiting plane.
They never noticed the four person team of heavily armed men and women that entered from their hiding place at the rear of the chamber, nor were they present to see the blond woman leading them, fresh tears in her eyes after having heard the words spoken by a certain American with a lingering British accent.
"Lyubov Moya." She whispered, "I will find you again."
Author Note: That's right, I threw an OC into the mix. Why? Because I'm the author and I do what I want. Mwahahaha. Also, I thought it'd be fun to have my new character butting heads with the Potter's and Nymphadora Tonks. (hint)(hint). -Plus, I thought a messy breakup like that would go a long way to also explain his womanizing ways mentioned previously.
Note: Lyubov Moya = my love.
Coming soon: Book Two: The Blood War