MISSION LIGHTNING BOLT - part 1

The Ritz

Milner reconstructed his image of the genius kid he had in mind, when he saw the four year old sitting on the bed, his tiny legs spread out with candy wrappings between them.

Chocolate was smeared all around his lips and cheeks and his eyes were glued, unblinking, to the television which had cartoons on. Milner recognized it as the Road Runner Show.

The few books that Shaw had brought him were lying unopened and untouched while the kid kept giggling when something violent happened on the cartoon show.

"Well at least he's enjoying violence," Milner thought, maybe there was some hope yet. He cleared his throat loudly to announce himself.

His presence was realized and a pair of excited green eyes scrunched and turned curious as to the identity of yet another stranger.

"You're Harry Potter right?" Milner asked rhetorically, that ugly scar was noticeable to anyone short of being completely blind.

Harry nodded hesitantly. He turned back to the telly; the cartoon was reaching its climax of madness.

"My name is Hugo Milner and I'm going to be your new guardian. You can forget about the Dursley's and come with me to your new home."

"…"

"Oh for god sake look at me! I was led to believe you were supposed to be smart!"

Harry turned around and scowled. "I am smart."

Hugo removed his wand from his back pocket and summoned the remote.

Harry gasped in surprise.

"Hey!" he whined when the television was turned off.

"Let's go."

"I'm not going with you anywhere," Harry said angrily. "Where is the fake priest?!"

"Fake priest?" Milner laughed. "Caught onto that did you? Well, well, well, you are smart after all."

"Give me the remote!"

Milner grinned. This was going to be fun after all, he thought, cackling in his mind. He turned the telly back on and they were just in time for the 'The End.' Harry began to complain and whine about the cartoon being over and how it was all his fault and he went on and on about how Milner was a mean person and he wanted Shaw back.

"Oh shut up, Harry Potter," Milner said, interrupting the tirade. "You can watch your cartoons once we get to where we need to get. Now the fake priest sent me and told me to get you. Do you want to come or do you want to try and watch those cartoons back at the Dursleys house?"

Milner blinked and Harry was by his side, pleading with his eyes not to send him back. He felt a little guilty for scaring the kid."Hold my hand and do not let go."

Harry did as he was told and the next moment a bucket of panic struck him when the world around him turned black and began to squeeze him from all sides, turning his body into an elastic material that was being pulled through a narrow pipe.

A second later it was over and his body popped back to its correct proportions.

All the chocolate he had ingested was regurgitated on Chekhov's boots. He coughed and gasped while tears leaked out his eyes as more chocolate rose out of his stomach and onto Chekhov's robes.

Milner suppressed a smile at Chekhov's disgusted face.

"I hope you warned him and gave him a little explanation Hugo," Croaker said disapprovingly and vanished the fluids from his robes and boots.

"Experience is better than silly explanations Albert," Hugo said.

"What was that?!" Harry gasped.

"That was magic. Magic is real," Hugo said quickly, before Croaker or Chekhov could begin their never ending theories and details. "We traveled from one place to another instantly."

Harry covered his mouth when he felt his stomach rumble again and threw up, this time away from Chekhov or anyone else in the room.

After his nausea subsided Harry took in the details of his surroundings. He was in a small room, brightly lit with blue tube lights and there was an abnormally large mirror covering the entire section of one of the walls. A gleaming steel table was bolted to the center of the room and there was a steel chair on either side of the table.

Harry had to crank his neck back to look at the people around him. The man he threw up on had blinding white hair, closely cropped. He had lines of old age all over his face and under thin eyebrows were scary icy blue eyes that were looking down at him with interest.

The man standing next to him had brown skin and black hair that was neatly pushed to one side. His brown eyes looked far more welcoming and kind as compared to the other.

He turned around and noticed a woman but her face was hidden behind the shadow of the hood over her head. Harry gulped at the sinister feeling that chilled his bones when he looked into the darkness of her face.

The last was the man who brought him and every time Harry looked at him, he was drawn into those misty gray eyes that just couldn't be real.

They all wore dark blue robes, except for Milner, with a strange symbol of a head with closed eyes, completely hairless and stitched lips. It freaked Harry and he was beginning to wonder if he should have gone back to the Dursley's and locked himself in the cupboard without complaining.

"If the boy is done with his observations can we move along?" the woman said. Her voice literally rattled through the air and had a low, husky, menacing quality to it. Harry knew she was a woman because of the drooping sacks bulging out of her chest.

"Magic?" Harry asked finally, bewildered. His mind was finally up to speed with all the odd things that were happening to him today. He was taken to a church, a place where he was forbidden to enter as reminded by his uncle every Sunday. There a priest gave him books, told him to act mad and then took him and showed him things that could only be dreams out of heaven! He ate chocolates without the fear of getting hit and watched cartoons without the dread of getting belted. Then another weird man used magic to take him to a room with scary people looking down at his small stature and magic, the word that made the Dursley's go fanatical, was the common thing holding all the weirdness together.

He couldn't understand what was happening. He had come to a conclusion but it was too preposterous for his mind to accept.

Milner sighed and pushed Harry ahead and guided him along with a firm grip on his shoulder. "You want to lead us to the orb Chang?" he said to the woman.

The bright lights dimmed to a pale glow, coming from torch brackets hanging on the walls as they entered the main entrance to the Department of Mysteries. The room they had just left served as an interrogation room for hardened criminals and was used by the department of Magical Law Enforcement when they required the unique help of the DOM. It also served as an apparition point before facing the circular wall that revolved the doorways to various Mysteries or going down to the Court Rooms from the right.

The entrance was a large stone walled room and the low temperature of the surrounding air made Harry move closer to Milner. He was really afraid but he couldn't will himself to make a run for it or even protest. He had no idea what these people wanted from him and he wished he was back in the hotel room watching cartoons.

"We're not going to hurt you child," Croaker said as warmly and comfortingly as possible.

"Everything will be explained to you but there's something we need to do first alright?"

Harry nodded.

"Hall of Prophecies," Chang hissed and the wall began to rotate with a loud clang and clatter. It stopped after a few seconds and the door opened by itself.

Harry was led through the door and past giant rows of shelves that had thousands of dusty orbs, glowing softly in the light of the candle brackets placed at intervals on the shelves.

Their footsteps echoed around the massive room and Chang led them through a maze of twists and turns before stopping abruptly near the row numbered ninety seven.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

The rotating figure of a face eclipsed by huge round spectacles faded into the mist which was sucked back into the orb and Croaker directed Harry to put the orb back on the shelf.

Milner had to lift Harry up so that he could reach and put it back in place. So far, Milner noted, the kid hadn't reacted too badly. He was taking in everything without really understanding what was happening but he was amazed that the four year old hadn't started wailing or whining or even throwing a tantrum about the things he was being asked to do and not to mention the sudden bombshell about the existence of magic. Those Dursley's had really done a number on this kid, he thought grimly.

"Umm, what did that mean?" Harry asked faintly, disturbing the minds of the adults.

"It doesn't mean much," Milner said, dismissively. "Just something about a Dark Lord needing your special touch I think. Now is there anything else the Brass would like to do?"

Croaker scowled. "The scar," he said. "That's the biggest clue that we have to decipher the prophecy."

"My scar?" Harry asked, confused. He was getting used to being confused now but what did his scar have to do with anything? "I got this in a car crash in which my parents died."

"Did the Dursley's tell you that?" Chang said sardonically, her voice making their skin crawl.

Croaker massaged his arms, to get that creepy feeling out of his skin and Harry just looked at them helplessly.

"Enough," Chekhov said suddenly. "Hugo, take him back to the hotel and explain things to him slowly. He might be four years old but mentally he's further than an average eight year old. Don't mince words and make sure he understands everything."

"Let's go kid," Milner said, flashing his thumb up to the boss.

"Tomorrow morning, we'll worry about that scar," Chekhov decided.

Milner lifted Harry in his arms and carried him out of the department. He might be an Agent for the Department of Intelligence but in his long career he had learnt a thing or two about dealing with mentally wounded kids. A smile lit his face up, he was really going to enjoy the coming decade.

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