(First Person.)

"Those Asshole Pussy Bitches!"

Yes… that was Hermione Granger-Potter. My little Muggleborn Swot was using words I usually saved to swear at or about Albus Dumbledore, or the Prewett-Weasleys.

The three of us had just returned to Grimmauld Place from a Sealed Wizengamot Session. While Hermione handled House Potter and Daphne handled House Black and House Greengrass, I often ghosted along on their heels, providing Muscle to their Intellect

Today some paid-for toady raised the Question; How much longer until I decide to pull a Dumbledore and try to bend society to my will.

In the end, I had a week to Surrender myself to the DMLE or they would come for me.

Hermione had a different option.

They wanted the Wizard Harry Potter off the Board… then remove Harry Potter the Wizard from the Board.

Hermione had been tweaking the Fidelius Charm and they decided to use it.

First I moved all Proxy Power to Daphne. As the Pureblood her Power was protected.

Hermione was given a healthy allowance and unrestricted access to the Black and Potter Estates as the Steward of both.

Ginny and Ron were too busy with their Quidditch Careers, and Molly was still plotting to leverage Ginny under me in some manner. So I just wrote them off.

Arthur and Percy were each given a thousand Galleons to use how best would serve their Department. It was declared as to avoid any accusations of bribery.

George was handed Lupin's Marauders Manual. (" For Fred and the First Marauders, keep the Dream Alive. We have many young and impressionable minds that need to be protected from the indoctrination of the Percy factor. Now for the bad news. I have a prank coming into play. It will hurt… but you are going to laugh when it ends.")

I had one last glorious night with both of my wives. As the Dawn bloomed in the East… I supplied the Power for the spell as Hermione twisted the threads…

And The Great Wizard Harry Potter was no more.

WHHP

I awoke in a seedy Motel room.

She was there, reading a newspaper. "Good day Mister Potter. I am your Handler Daphne Greengrass. The last assignment was a tough one. But only you could face the Wrath of Lord Black and survive." She folded the paper and tucked it under her off arm.

A black duffle was sitting on the foot of the bed. She patted it like a mean dog. "Had to replace your kit. Two Colt Pythons, two Colt Anacondas and two Rhinos. All originally three five sevens, but had them rebored to fifties." It was obvious that she had no idea what she was talking about. "Black Leather trench coat, treated by proprietary methods for protection from guns, knives and what have you. Same for the boots."

A small red gym bag duffle was tossed to me. "Your documents. Spending cash. And a cell phone. Find a new base of operations. We should have another target for you in a week."

"Just a few questions." I stand and find that she is just a hair taller than me only because she is wearing four inch heels. God they made her legs and ass look great. "What are you talking about? Where are we? And why should I trust you?"

"Damn, Black's Curse must have been a doozy." She looked in my eye as if trying to see into my brain. "You are Harry Potter. Witch-hunter. Now most just want to live the quiet life and keep to themselves. Then there are the others. They see mundanes as intelligent livestock to be culled. Those like that culled your parents. You were raised and trained to keep these 'abhorrents' in line."

"Why me?"

"A multitude of things. I only handle giving you targets and refill your cash and ammo caches." the short yet legy blonde smiled at me. "Press 2 to get me. Press 3 if you need medical attention. You have the best in first aid in the big bag. You took care of Lord Black. But doing so has cost you. Your mind, your old kit, and your base of operations. You need to find a new base and maybe a safehouse or two. Call me when you are down to your last grand. Good Day… and good Hunting." She was gone before I could stop her.

WHHP

A week later I was leaning on the wall around the Tower of London. I was chewing on a 'red vine' while waiting for Daphne.

I found two places for a Safehouse. One in Little Whinging Surrey. Number Four Privet Drive. The whole thing was handled through a professional reality agency. The other is a flat two blocks from Savile Row.

My base of operations and primary residence is a warehouse type place, in Southampton. I have room for a SUV and a Motorcycle. I don't have either yet because I am going to need more money and paperwork to acquire them.

Daphne is spotted approaching a few minutes before the agreed time. I scan the crowd around and behind her. I can't find anyone trailing her.

I approach and fall into pace beside her. "Anything?"

She hands me a green gym duffle. "Refilling your cash and ammo. Plus a target for you to find and … whatever you think is best. I will tell you… she is the one responsible for the scarring on your left hand." And she is gone.

Back in Southampton, I open the file to find a witch with a face of a toad. Just looking at the picture fills me with a deep hatred. It had her residential address listed as just off Scotland Yard.

Finding the place was no trouble at all. It was across the street from the last Phone Box in London.

I was standing there looking at the Phone Box, thinking about who would ever use it… when I was rudely elbowed aside and the Toad-witch waddled past me, and threw open the door.

Pulling the Anaconda from under my left arm, I knocked on the glass. When she turned to sneer at me, after dialing the number, I held up my left fist, showing Her the words carved in the flesh. She lost the ruddy red complexion… just before my bullet passed through her head.

I vanish into the crowd drawn by the sound of the gun going off.

WHHP

(Third Person.)

Mitch. Everyone knew Mitch. And he knew most people who passed through the checkpoint. He also kept watching on the back door entrances to the Atrium.

He noticed that the Phone Booth had been tripped but no reason for entrance. He pulled his wand and went to check it out. If it was another muggle tripping the system… and there was Umbridge, half her face was missing.

He panicked and hit the button to lock down the system and call the Aurors…

WHHP

(First person)

The next day I got a call from Daphne.

"Damn Potter!" She yelled through the phone. "How are we going to keep it quiet when you drop the body into the Ministry Atrium!"

"One, when you gave me the target packet, nothing was said about keeping it quiet." I growl back. "Two, I just thought she was calling a cab or something. Three… only her knowing that it was me killing her had me doing her up close."

"Lay low." I heard her sigh. "I might have another target in a week or two."

It continued like this for the next two years.

TBC