Dusk fell over the Docks.

It was the night of his first job. Harry was dressed in his black suit with a black vest. His hair was slicked back with a generous amount of hair gel. He stepped out of the shadows behind the two goons guarding the door.

"Gentlemen," Harry spoke softly, "I know you are local muscle. You have two options. Body Bags, or you will be needing ironclad alibis." he offered two folded bundles of three one-hundred Pound notes.

The men looked at the offerings. "Who are you?"

"Maveth," Harry spoke softly. "Someone here Called Me for an Appointment. The cops are going to be asking questions. You have twenty minutes to have your alibies."

The two thugs trotted off, and Harry opened the outer door, his Dr.s bag in his left hand. Drawing his new wand he eased into the building. A piercing hex took out the camera overlooking the door. As he ghosted on silenced feet through the building, cameras along the way fell to the same hex.

When he entered the heart of the building, it was no surprise that the Target, the Yakuza Youth was screaming at the Computers in Japanese. Harry frowned as he raised his wand to target the thug. 'I need to learn more Languages.'

[Stupify!]

The Yakuza thug spun just in time to take the red bolt to the face…

"Not what I was hoping for." Harry set the bag on the desk as he released the wand to fall up his sleeve. Opening the bag he set the three bundles of rope on the desk, before removing his coat, uncuffing, and rolling up his sleeves. Then he pulled out an apron. Putting the apron on he looked about the room.

Using a mix of charms, hexes, and transfiguration, Harry lifted the target by the ropes around his ankles until his waist was just above Harry's head. Using the Hookbill Kambit, Harry cut the coat and shirt off of his prey. He then tied the arms out. In the end, it looked like a mockery of a crucifixion. Harry then brought out the camera. He spent five clicks on the Face, and another three on the Back.

Stepping back, he drew his wand.

[Enverate]

The Yakuza thug spasmed in his bindings. After cursing in his native tongue, he spotted Harry standing in front of him. "Hey Kid, Let me down, and I will make it worth your while. I got money, guns… Drugs?"

"And That right there is what got you an Appointment with Maveth." Harry shook his head in sorrow, "The Tong own this turf, and the Deal for their Control of said turf was no Drugs. Had you stuck to Guns and Girls… the Tong might have looked the other way for a taste." Harry smiled. "Instead they made you an Appointment. They wanted proof. Otherwise, I would make you a Dinner Reservation."

Harry unrolled a large sheet of plastic out under the hanging guy. "Please bear with me." He smiled at the guy, "To tell the truth, you are my first Appointment and I want to go Big." He then 'Localmortis'ed a 'kiddy pool' under the guy.

"Tell me about your Cash, Weapons, and Drugs. Where are they?" Harry smiled at the guy, "And I will kill you with Honour. Or I slash your throat and bleed you out like a pig."

The Thug sang. Harry opened the weapons vault and fetched the sword rack, with its three blades, a Katana, a Wakinashi, and a Tanto, and placed it on the Desk facing the guy. Taking the short sword, he eased it from its lacquered wooden sheath. "May you find Peace and Honour in the next Life." Harry thrust the Blade into the man's Heart.

Harry stepped back and using his Battle wand, cast a cleaning charm on himself. He then picked up the Camera and snapped a few pics of the sword in the man's chest. He then nicked the arteries and allowed the blood to collect into the plastic pool. Pulling a charmed duffel from the Dr.s Bag, he stripped the cash and weapons from their stashes.

When the body was finished dripping blood into the pool, Harry moved the pool to the side and pulled the sword from the chest wall, cleaned it with a piece of the man's shirt, resheathed it, and placed it gently on the rack. He left the Rack and its Swords on the desk, out of Respect for the Culture. He then, using the tools in the bag, removed the man's artfully tattooed skin from the neck to the waist, or rather as the man was inverted, from the waist to the neck. After scrapping it clean, he rolled the skin carefully around a dowel and placed it in a plastic bag in case of dripping. He then opened the Abdominal Cavity and pulled everything out, into the pool. He then opened the thoracic cavity to reach the Heart and Lungs.

He then repacked the body cavity with as many Drugs as he could fit. He then recast a cleaning charm on himself and removed the Apron. He finished off the roll of film in the camera, showcasing his work. He then cleaned and repacted his tools, and resettled his sleeves.

"Thank you." Harry bowed to the body hanging there. "Please tell your friends. Maveth is always looking for new Appointments." taking his Dr.s bag in his left hand, his battle wand dropped into his right so he could ignite the drug vault. Once he was sure everything would burn, he turned away.

A flick of his B-wand and the Duffle shimmed and allowed the young wizard to walk it out into the night. After two blocks, he flickered his wand from the Curb and waited. The Purple Bus screeched to a halt, and Stan began his speech.

"Hold it right there, Stan." Harry waved his wand and the bag lumbered up onto the bus. "Number Twenty-five Savile Row. And I was never here." two Galleons were palm-drawn from the vest, and passed to the wizard. Harry perched on a cot, as the Bus lurched into motion.

PBPB

Less than Five minutes later the Bus squealed to a stop at number twenty-five, and Harry led his black bag from the back of the bus. As the Purple Bus burped, and sped off into the Night, Harry walked up into the Continental. The black Duffle waddled at his heels like a puppy. He Arrived at the Front Desk, raising an eyebrow at Zeus standing behind the polished stone. "Is the Manager available?"

"She has been waiting for you." The silky tones of the man brought a nod from the Lad in Black. "In Her Office."

Harry turned toward the lift before his eyes fell on the duffle at his feet. Turning back, "I have a few things in need of a good Laundering. Is this covered by the Room, or will it cost me extra?"

Zeus leaned over to look at the Bag. "I will have to get back to you. It depends if you are wanting to keep everything."

"I just packed everything not of a narctic origin, and brought it along." Harry frowned. "You might need a hand or two to carry it."

"I will see to everything." Zeus picked up his phone. "I will have a list for you in the morning."

Harry entered the Lift and headed for the fifth floor. As he stepped out of the lift, John joined him.

"Any bad feeling about this?"

"I might spend a few minutes in the loo, once I get back to the room." Harry looked at the man. "Over the last two years, I had to end a… man that was thought dead for the last ten years. Twice." Harry adjusted his tie. "I am going to have to do more killing over the next five years, and that is just School-related issues." He tugged his cuffs as he stood before her Door. "This is dirty work, but I get to choose who I make an Appointment for." He knocked.

"Come."

He entered to see Kent wearing a fluffy robe, chewing a scrimshaw pipe stem. Harry raised an eyebrow, and at her nod, snapped his fingers, causing the substance in the bowl to glow with a burning ember.

She drew on her pipe, before raising an eyebrow of her own.

He pulled from his Dr. Bag, the bag, holding the bloody skin, and the camera. "I will need the film developed, and three copies. One for the Referral, one for your records, and one for the Sun. Let them call the Police."

"Referral? Appointment?" John asked. "Are you Maveth or Dr. Maveth?"

"At this time, I am Maveth. But I am working on my Doctorate." Harry sighed, as he sat in a chair before the Desk.

"Good one." Kent smiled around her pipe stem. "Okay, the going rate was two hundred, but you went the extra mile." She stacked two trays of five columns of fifty coins before the lad. "Do I need to make any Dinner Reservations?"

"Only the Target was Seen." Harry sighed. "I can not call for a 'Dinner Reservation' on him. The Referral was for a 'public display'."

"And the Local Muscle?"

"They were offered the choice of body bags or a paid alibi." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "They took the second option. Good thing I hit the Bank before I hit the Docks."

Kent nodded. "Did you introduce yourself to them?"

"Yes." Harry sighed. "While they won't tell the police, they will tell others. I will have to kill some, but the Name of Maveth is floating out there. Some will walk, some will die."

"And if you have to kill an army of goons?" Kent pushed.

"Nothing Stops Maveth once he has made an Appointment." Harry allowed his eyes to flare with a green fire. "If I have to dig you out like a tick on a rat's ass, I will. There is only one thing that will stop me, and She is even more Deadly than I am." He leered at Kent, "Read your 'Kipling'."

Kent swallowed. "The copies for the Sun. Amonius or …"

"Complements of Maveth, please." Harry stood. "Please include that these are because the Referral was for a 'public display'. Add a redacted copy of the Referral, please, and thank you. I need to hit my bed if I am going to make it to breakfast. Hedwig is a real Bitch if you forget her bacon."

He exited, without asking her permission.

In his room, He stripped to the skin, showered twice, and toweled off. He then drew on a pair of jockeys and exited into the bedroom. He frowned at the clean floor, before shrugging and climbing into bed. He would deal with it in the morning.

He did not even hit the pillow before he was engulfed by the black velvet of Morphis and his realm.

PBPB

The sun struggled over the horizon over Crawley.

Hermione was running through a Kata with her Karambits. Building the muscle memory that would one day save her life…or Harry's. Riddick stood off to the side as his newest student ran through the teachings that Jack missed out on. Had he spent the time teaching her the right way to do things, she might have survived. She might have skipped that hell hole of Creamatia, she might have survived the Necromongers. That time on the Planet of Night really changed her. And her time on that ship only sharpened her inner knife.

He was not letting this one go the way of Jack… or Kira.

"Okay good. Now switch Blades." He ducked as she turned gracefully and threw both blades at him. One thunked into the tree next to his head… right where he was standing a second ago. The other into his shoulder. He grunted as he pulled the knife from his shoulder. "Good timing with that second knife, but what did you do wrong?"

"It was not a killing blow." Hermione had her tontos in hand. "I was not trying to kill, but to wound if not maim."

He pulled the knife from the tree. "Is that all?"

"Besides the damage to my babies?" The Lass shifted her weight, before beginning her new Kata. "When you think I am finished here, I will be taking them to my room for a little TLC." She quickly lost herself in her Kata.

PBPB

The Black Dog/Grim trotted along the Highway. He lucked out; the first bin that morning had half of a Baked Ham, just chucked into the bin that only had a burn patch. So it was a full stomach and rising spirits that the Dog, who was a Wizard, trotted North.

[Flashback]

It was a rainy night in Little Whinging, Surrey, when the Grim found his Pup. As he approached, the boy fell over and summoned the Bus. He hid while the Pup looked closer. He trusted that the Pup was now safe… He spent the last of his magic, timing it to the Bus's exit, He Apparited north to crash just outside Derby.

As a Dog, he slept under bushes and overpasses as he worked his way to Scotland. First was Sheffield, then there was Leeds. Now the road led to Boroughbridge, where He found a Homeless Shelter that allowed the Wizard to lose the Prison Robe Rags for a shower and clean 'muggle wear'. A hot meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes covered in brown gravy and half a loaf of bread. He Left the Town as Padfoot just before the Word to look for Sirius Black was posted on the Post-it board.

[Flashback End]

He Had made it to Darlington from Boroughbridge that Day. At Darlington, He lucked out and caught a Lorrie heading Northeast to Coatbridge. There was space in the back of the open-air trailer. Padfoot tucked in, and 'napped', allowing his Core to recharge at a faster pace. He had fallen asleep, his nose buried in his clean tail.

Two more days and he would be strong enough to jump to Hogsmeade.

He now had a dilemma; did he continue on foot, or spend the next two days hiding and resting?

A scent caught his attention. Mandrakes. He crawled through the wards, which were just Muggle and Animal repelling wards. A shack sat at the centre of the patch shrieking death. A shack that had a cot, full chilled butterbeer bottles, and two boxes of Bertties's Beans.

PBPB

The Greenhouses were his only solace. He found them just after his eighth birthday. It was a Herculean Task to beat back the overgrowth and bring order to the chaos. But it was a task of Love.

Today, we find the Longbottom Heir up to his elbows in dragon dung, dirt, and mulch. He was repotting Dittany as his plants were too dry to process for their essence, but given a year in new pots, with fresh potting mix and a hydro drip that he had already assembled, would allow the plants to swell and hydrate. By the time he returned Home from School, they should be ready to harvest.

As he finishes the last stalk of the spindly, scraggly plant, it puffed a cloud of its vapour in his face. He felt the stiff muscles of his lower back loosen up. The aches and pains of his body from his labours this day faded, and his air passages cleared. He smiled and exhaled as he set the pot under the last of the water drip stations.

Removing his apron, and hanging by the door, he checked his pocket watch, a birthday from his Uncle. He had two hours before Tea with Gran…

He stepped outside and secured the door. Only to notice that he was not alone. An aged Asian man in robes and beads stood not twenty feet from him. Neville sighed as his right hand drifted to the centre of his back. His hand closed on something hard. "Now?"

As the Grand Clock, a smaller copy of the Clock from Hogwarts clicked before striking the hour. The old man moved to attack the Heir. From behind his back, he drew out a staff that was not there a second ago. He blocked the foot aimed at his head, before spinning, both body and staff to engage a shadow of the man behind him, spinning back to strike at the man's ribs…

For the next hour, the two danced across the yard, trading blows and blocking. The Master was fighting at a level just above the skill of his Apprentice. As the great Clock clicked again, the Master fell back, bowed to the Lad, and faded from view. Neville leaned on his staff as he caught his breath. Opening his Hand and Dropping the Staff released it into the either from which he drew it.

He hurried up the back way to his rooms, where he stripped to the skin. And leaving his clothes on the floor, he Showered Not just running water and soap, but a loofa, and scraping a layer of skin from his arms and hands. As he toweled dry, he returned to his room where a Lordling's robes were laid out. As he dressed, he pocketed his watch that he had left in his pocket when he stripped. Slipping on the ankle boots, and adjusting his ascot, he ran a comb through his hair, before turning to the side to examine his look.

"Need to talk to Gran." He muttered. "Might want to look into getting my hair lengthened."

He strolled out and down to the Solarium. He frowned, as his Gran would not allow any 'Green' in the room. He stood at the east side of the room as he gazed out over the perfectly mowed lawn. He would need to talk to 'Weedy' the House Elf in charge of the Garden and Lawn. The field of green before him needed aeration and a better watering timetable. He would call the Elf after Tea.

"You are early." Gran had arrived.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And your reason."

"I finished early in the greenhouses." Neville continued to stare out the glass wall. "I had nothing else to do at this minute. I think I need to talk to Weedy." He turned to look at the elder witch. "I heard that the Muggles have improved their lawn care techniques. I have a Muggle-born friend who is a bit of a swot. She knows something about almost everything. Would it be permissible to write to her for advice and assistance in improving our green carpet?"

"Let me think about it." She eased into her wicker throne, a gift from his Godmother before she was taken. "Care to guess what is for Tea?"

"Given the weather, the date, and the news…" Neville sat on an ottoman to her left. "Lady Grey, heavy on the cream puffs, with finger sandwiches of ham, swiss, and lightly pickled cucumbers."

"Very good." Gran eased back into her chair. "Make it so."

Neville raised an eyebrow, "So, Gran." He licked his lips, "As I was straightening my hair, I was looking in the mirror. I was hit with the thought of growing my hair out… like to my shoulders… before the First?"

"Something else for me to think about."

The Clock clicked and Tea was served as the Hour tolled over the Hall's grounds.

PBPB

AN: all this happened late at night or early the next morning. My next Post will start about Noon.