So, here's the first chapter of the revised version of Owls of Athena. This one is going to be a Dumbledore-bashing one...but with a twist. Hopefully, this one feels better.

OWLS OF ATHENA (REVISED)

CHAPTER 1:

AWAKENING

"You are sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Thanks to V, I've had to kill her mother. I can't raise her myself, and the alternative, bringing her to an acquaintance of mine in the 24th Ward, isn't much better."

"You know, I am sorely tempted to kill you for what you did to my cousin. But there are worse things than death. I can see the remorse eating you up inside. It will surely do so for the rest of your days."

"Yes. It will. Still…give my daughter her mother's journal when she's old enough to understand."

"I will. And she will not want for love. Our new girl will have a sister."

"…Can I ask that you keep her name, at least? I know you named yours that Shakespearean name, Hermione. But can you allow her to keep the name her mother gave her?"

"Certainly. Eto sounds like a nice name, after all…"

Harry Potter was not having a good time. He'd been kidnapped by his nemesis, who was currently gloating while speaking to his Death Eaters, Cedric Diggory was now a corpse, and he was tied to a bloody gravestone with a bleeding arm. In short, he was having a bad time, and it was sure to get worse before it got better. Assuming it DID get better, anyway. Harry's life was a roller-coaster one to be sure with bipolar luck, but at this point, it looked like it was all downhill from here.

Every year, every bloody year, he had some trial or travail to overcome. There was that business with Quirrellmort and the Philosopher's Stone in his first year, the Basilisk and Lockhart in his second year (not to mention learning he was a Parselmouth), the Dementors, Sirius Black and Pettigrew in his third year…and now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, with most of the school turning their back on him, even Ron, his supposed best friend, at least until the First Task.

It was during that time when he was grateful that he had another friend, Hermione's sister, whom he'd first met in Diagon Alley just before his second year. Well, a stepsister, as apparently she was a second cousin from Japan, actually, but they looked almost like sisters. Same face, same messy hair, same scary intelligence, though where Hermione was serious, her sister was facetious. Where Hermione was studious, her stepsister was a little lazy and absent-minded. Where Hermione's features were European, her stepsister's had Asiatic elements, and apparently her birth parents were Japanese, well, her mother was half-Japanese. Despite this, Hermione's stepsister, oddly enough, had green hair and eyes.

Ever since Hermione introduced them, Harry had kept up a letter correspondence with her stepsister. It was partly thanks to that that he had a date for the Yule Ball: Hermione had arranged for her stepsister to come to Hogwarts. She was also a writer, of horror thrillers, with Harry being given a copy of her first book, Dear Kafka, for his fourteenth birthday, and a short story compilation, Monochrome Rainbow, for his fifteenth.

Though it was increasingly unlikely that he would reach his sixteenth.

She had become as dear a friend to him as Hermione and Ron. Muggle or not, there was something magical to her. In fact, if he allowed himself to admit it, he was actually falling for her. Not that he could ever tell her, or any of his friends, that.

She wasn't the only one of the strange brood of the Grangers he'd miss. There was that albino boy that they seemed to adopt a couple of years back, who was a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and yet, was endearing once you got to know him. He was a bit like that girl Luna he had met a couple of times. The Grangers had apparently rescued him from an abusive home in Tokyo, and used their pull to adopt him as well.

And he would never even get to say goodbye. He was going to die.

Not that he particularly wanted to die. For all Dumbledore's guff about death being the next great adventure or whatever he said at the end of Harry's first year before sending him back to the Dursleys, Harry would prefer to live. He hungered for life, amongst other things. He had often been hungry since he could remember, and chalked it down to being often underfed by the Dursleys. It was a dull hunger, one never satisfied, and to tell the truth, he was never one to gorge himself on food either, especially after seeing his uncle and cousin do so. But he needed something. Something he couldn't define.

He was brought out of his reverie by Voldemort saying, "And what is this, Harry Potter? Are you not paying attention? Well, allow me to correct that. CRUCIO!"

It felt like every nerve ending was on fire, like his very bones were being cooked. Harry couldn't even scream, the pain was so great, just a strangled snarl wormed from his lips. It was the worst possible pain, and it felt like something would break or snap at any moment.

Unbeknownst to him, or Voldemort, something was.

Suddenly, he felt something deep within, beneath his soul, beneath his skin, simply shatter. And then, it wasn't the Cruciatus Curse making him scream in agony until he was hoarse. In fact, Voldemort had finished using it, and was staring at him, puzzled, as Harry's body thrashed and convulsed.

Harry was only distantly aware of this, though. He could feel something like fire running through his veins, and yet, it wasn't just pain. It wasn't like the Cruciatus Curse, where it was simply pain upon pain upon pain. No, the pain washing through him was leaving him changed in its wake, burning and mutating and transmuting. It felt like everything was falling into place.

He felt something in his back burst open, but oddly enough, there was no pain when that happened. He felt the gravestone he had been restrained to shatter, and his restraints slip away. His left eye felt…different somehow. Then again, everything felt different. It was as if he had been wrapped in chains that had shattered, and now, he was free.

But in its wake, he also felt a terrible, profound hunger. And he could smell delicious morsels…right in front of him.

"A Blood Eye…and Blood Limbs(1)…" Voldemort whispered, in equal parts horror, awe, and even a little understanding. "…I see. So the Mongoose was indeed your mother…so why did she…?" He seemed to be musing out loud.

However, one of the other Death Eaters screamed, "A Ghoul! He's a fucking Ghoul! Avada Kedavra!"

Harry instantly dodged the jet of green light, and then, suddenly, from behind his back, something flew through the air, and struck the Death Eater in the stomach. He seemed to shrivel up almost instantly, a strange gurgling noise accompanying the process…and Harry felt some of that hunger sated. The appendage was like a tentacle made of blood red flesh, but with a stinger on the end, or a hypodermic syringe.

That seemed to be the cue for the other Death Eaters to open fire, and Harry, on instinct, Apparated away. He didn't know how he managed to do that, in retrospect, but he was glad for it. The Death Eaters he impaled and 'drank', not so much. Then again, he was running on instinct, to survive and feed. A predator chained deep within him had been unleashed, and it needed to feed. It dodged spells and ate its foes with alacrity.

Soon, the whipcrack sounds of Apparition filled the air, though not before a Blasting Hex hurled Harry through the air, to crash amongst a thicket of grave markers. By the time he had recovered, the graveyard was empty of the living, save for himself. And then, he came back to himself, feeling distantly the Blood Limbs withdraw.

The hunger was gone now, or at least it had abated for the moment. And it hit him. He had killed and consumed a number of people. True, they were Death Eaters, xenophobic murderers…but what did that make him? Especially now that, somehow, he was a Ghoul?

How could he face his friends like this? He wasn't covered in blood, but he felt like he was drenched in it, from head to toe. He'd become a monster. No, he knew that he had been one all along.

Numbly, he staggered over to Cedric's corpse, and the Tri-Wizard Cup, grabbing the former before casting a Summoning Charm on the latter…

Some hours later, Harry was exhausted. Dealing with Voldemort, and then, coming back, dealing with Barty Crouch Junior (who had been disguised as Moody the whole time), a Dementor Kissing the same, Fudge not believing in Voldemort's return, and Harry having to rest. He said that a Ghoul had attacked…but he didn't give any details as to who it was.

Because he was the Ghoul, after all.

How could he be one? And how could Pomfrey not notice he was one during her examinations of him? He knew that Ghouls could only survive by feeding on human flesh, and that they found human food repulsive and disgusting, at best. And yet, not only could he eat food normally beforehand, he'd been given some food shortly after he was in the Hospital Wing, and it tasted normal.

He didn't want to be a monster. What's more, he knew that if word of this ever got out, so many people would turn on him in an instant. And what if he hurt someone he cared about? He began to hyperventilate in fear.

And then, he heard shouts and an argument outside the Hospital Wing. He heard Dumbledore's voice saying, "…proof there is is the word of those who are most suspect, Cornelius! Harry was kidnapped, and…"

"He is a damned Ghoul, Dumbledore, and he killed many upstanding members of our society!" Fudge's voice snapped.

"And what were these upstanding members of our society doing where Harry was abducted to?"

Spluttering reached his ears, before Fudge said, "It doesn't matter! He is a Ghoul and a murderer! That is what happened to Amos' boy! And remember, those who harbour Ghouls will face severe punishment, Dumbledore! Be thankful I'm assuming that you were merely duped instead of a willing accomplice! Do not make me change my mind on the matter, or I will see you and your staff in Azkaban within the week!"

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Fudge had somehow found out about him being a Ghoul, and judging by the words of Dumbledore, they were the Death Eaters. He needed to get out of here, and fast. And in a moment of clarity fuelled by adrenaline, he hit upon an answer. "Dobby!" he hissed urgently. As the House Elf popped into existence, he hissed, "Get me somewhere safe! Hurry!"

Dobby nodded wordlessly, and just as the door was slammed open, Harry was…

…Elsewhere.

It wasn't Hogwarts. The architecture was too modern. Though it seemed old-fashioned anyway, but very industrial. There were pipes and electrical switches and the like everywhere.

Before Harry could react, Dobby vanished again, then returned with trunks, Harry's trunks. "Dobby, where are we?" Harry asked, his voice echoing in what sounded like a basement room.

"Batty-Sea Power Station, Mr Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby said.

Batty-Sea…wait, did he meant Battersea Power Station? In London? "But why did you bring me here?"

"Dobby was told to bring you here if you needed a safe place to be," the House Elf said, chewing his lip pensively.

"Told? By who?"

"By whom, actually, but that's okay, I'm not that much of a grammar Nazi. I know, a bit odd considering my occupation, but language is so borrrring without giving it a right reaming every now and then."

The voice was so familiar, and he turned to face the figure that was currently walking through the door. He gaped at the figure. "…Impossible."

"Hey, like Alice, it's best that you believe at least three impossible things before breakfast(2)," the figure said with a shrug, before concern came over their features. They sniffed the air, before they hurried over. "Dobby, what happened?"

"Mr Harry Potter Sir is a Ghoulie, Owlgirl!" Dobby said. "Idiot Minister Fudgepants found out!"

"…You're a Ghoul? Ohhh…ohhh, that explains a lot! I mean, I suspected something, given who I thought the Mongoose to be, but…no, no, I shouldn't be all excited. Sorry, Harry." The figure approached, and then gave Harry a hug, the playful tone of her voice now gone. "It's okay. It's okay," she said soothingly.

Harry suddenly pushed her away, not enough to be painful or aggressive, but enough to keep some distance between them. "Just…stay away from me, Eto. Please," he said, his voice finally beginning to crack. "I'm a monster."

The green-haired girl looked at him, a gentle smile on her face, a far cry from her usual lazy smirk. "If you're a monster, Harry…then you're in good company." Then, one of her eyes changed, from green irises in white sclera, to a crimson iris on black sclera.

"…Eto…you're…"

"Yes. I am. I'm a One-Eyed Ghoul. Just as I suspect you are…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

Well, quite a few bombshells. Eto's Hermione's adoptive stepsister/actual second cousin, she's been friends with Harry for a while…and Harry is a One-Eyed Ghoul, as was his mother.

Yeah, I know Harry as a Ghoul, One-Eyed or otherwise, has been done quite a lot. Deal with it.

Eto, I decided, has a better moral compass than she did in Tokyo Ghoul canon. She's still more than a little psychotic, and she's still running a shadowy organisation, with the eventual goal of dealing with V, but dealing with Death Eaters takes priority. But she's also a fundamentally decent person.

BTW, Harry's kakugan is a rinkaku one, only it's like a high speed version of Cell's infamous tail from Dragonball Z. Imagine four of those coming from Harry's back at once.

1. You'll note that I'm actually using my own English terms for the Ghoul's abilities. This was deliberate. They're not direct translations of the Japanese, as a quick look at the wiki will show you, but I thought it better to use English terms. A Blood Limb is a kagune. A Blood Eye is a kakugan.

2. Eto is quoting the Fifth Doctor referencing Alice in Doctor Who: The Five Doctors. It was his bit of snark at the Master claiming he was there to help the Doctor (and the Master was actually telling the truth).