Hadrian Morningstar: King of Champions
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Jostanos: Who says Gordon isn't one of Harry's? Also, you, a lot of others and even the haters are going to DESPISE me for this one;
"If you ever use those puppy-dog eyes on me again, Morningstar, you'll be doing the Tasks blinded, I swear it!"
She looked down…
But Harry had fallen asleep, earning a soft tut from Tonks as she shook her head.
"Sirius…you're going to die laughing when I tell you about him."
Chapter 4: Morning Stars and Marauders
A storm had come to Hogwarts.
That wasn't a euphemism, either; it was literally storming the next morning, leaving many waking up in their beds and wondering if it was still the middle of the night.
Yes, the sky was that dark; thunderclouds thicker than thick could get, and blacker than the blackest of nights, covered the light of day, while rain, wind, thunder, lightning and even hailstones danced a deadly deluged dance across the fields of Hogwarts, the hail and wind rattling the windows as though attempting to penetrate Hogwarts at her core, while the lightning seemed to make a game of either targeting the Forest's highest treetops, as well as the Black Lake, where even the creatures in said lake dived as deeply as they could, hoping to avoid the electrical lances striking their home and the aquatic environments.
To the alarm and occasional awe of many students who saw it, bouncing off of the masts on Durmstrang's ship, sending sparks dancing all over the deck and down the rigging. Meanwhile, Beauxbatons' carriage seemed to become a lightning rod for the storm, leaving many gathered inside trembling in fear as though they didn't dare wander out into the raging tempest.
Finally, the turrets and poles of Hogwarts, as well as outer torch brackets all lit up and were subsequently extinguished by the battle of lightning vs rain, leaving ashes, wind-blown embers and even scorch marks dancing along the walls, towers and corridors of the enchanted citadel.
It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst storm in the history of Hogwarts.
And could only be summed up in one word…
HMKC
"Beautiful!"
"Why do I suspect that you have something to do with this beyond-unseasonably maelstrom, Harry?" asked Tonks, earning a look of mocking hurt and disbelief from Harry as he stood in the worst place anyone could have been stood, namely high up on the Astronomy Tower's open-air platform, watching with apparent amusement and contentment as the storm danced its deadly dance across the grounds.
However, as was previously mentioned, Tonks' comment earned her a shocked look from Harry as he asked, "Me? Responsible for something as wonderfully-destructive as this raging tempest? Why, Miss Tonks, you wound me to the quick: why-ever would you suspect sweet, innocent little Harrikins of doing something so…so…so…"
"Devilishly-evil?" asked Tonks, a part of her thankful that she had chosen to stay away from the outer edge of the tower, instead watching as Harry braced himself against the elemental fury of the storm, though he didn't seem the least bit affected by it, either, be it the rain, wind, thunder, lightning or even the hail. In find, as she watched him enjoying the maelstrom, Tonks would have sworn blind that she saw him glow as the storm danced around him, but without hitting him exactly.
And that was just another reason she suspected him.
Harry, meanwhile, opened his mouth, then closed it and, letting out a soft laugh, he nodded, "Touché; guess that's what I get for having such a wise, gorgeous Auror as my bodyguard-slash-faithful companion."
"You also promised nobody would get hurt, not unless you want to break your word, which, seeing as you never lie, I imagine is something akin to the Cruciatus Curse for you, Morningstar," argued Tonks, earning a mocking pout from Harry.
"Party pooper, no cake for you."
Snapping his fingers, Harry sighed dramatically as, outside, the tumultuous tempest transformed into a clear, bright, but still-cold and crisp sunny late autumn morning. At the same time, he scoffed softly as he turned to face Tonks before he walked towards the stairs where she'd hunkered down, his green eyes filled with a glint of familiarly-sinister self-amusement as he petted her cheek.
"You're lucky you're so damn foxy, Tonksie…but, FYI, I can tell you that the number of dead souls from my storm was zero…and the number of wounded, be they walking-wounded or otherwise? Also, Zero! Now, shall we go down and break our fasts? Or are you going to cook up another deliciously-filling demon's wet dream of a dinner for your dear, poor, hungry wickle Harrikins?"
"Move," growled Tonks, earning a shrug from Harry.
HMKC
Unseen by Harry, Tonks' cheeks flushed, while her hair turned red with embarrassment as, for reasons she could not understand in a month of Sundays, she honestly felt herself enjoying the teasing and borderline-flirtatiously sexy attitude of the Devil Boy of Hogwarts more and more.
Although, now, she found herself thinking of someone else who'd love him if she ever saw him.
For that reason, Tonks' face began to shift…
HMKC
"BLOODY HELL! IT'S BELLATRIX LESTRANGE!"
"Huh?" asked Harry, ducking the flash of red that flew past him, before he waved his hand, stopping the spell from striking the alarmed lady behind him, earning a laugh from the emerald-eyed scion as he asked, "I know you like to play with your gift, Nimmy, but really? Looking even hotter and more malevorously-beautiful than before by shifting into such a dark goddess in a place so rooted in light? Anyone would think you wanted to indulge in a little role-play here and now at brekkie?"
"I…I didn't even…" gasped Tonks, shifting her features back into her classic bubble-gum-pink-haired look as she gasped fearfully, and with no small amount of disbelief. "I didn't even notice I had shifted! I was…well…what I mean to say is…"
"I think what you mean to say is that you rightly deserve an apology from the slobbering monkey's ass who threw that weak little so-called spell at you," said Harry, turning on his heel before he walked to a redheaded male, who shrank back as the air around him, Harry and the few people who dared stay close to him now turned Arctic in dread, dousing the torches along the walls, while the skies outside darkened ominously once again.
Harry, meanwhile, twisted his left hand, conjuring a ball of black fire as he asked in a growling voice, "Well, Monkey Boy? What's it going to be? Are you going to apologise for not only attacking an Auror, but my beautiful companion, or do I have to start collecting coins so soon? Though I imagine I couldn't whistle for as much as one-tenth of the price for your pathetically-drab soul!"
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…thy Kingdom Come…"
"Don't be so dumb," drawled Harry, waving his free hand at the brunette who seemed intent on criss-crossing herself more times than a game of Noughts and Crosses; at Harry's command, the girl's mouth and voice vanished, earning more than a few relieved looks from those around her, while Harry sneered as he looked back to the redhead, who was now on the floor, crawling back in terror as he stared up at Harry.
"So, your bravery only lasts long enough to try and sneak in around the back, eh?" asked Harry, conjuring a second black flame, his green eyes darkening ominously as he sneered, "Great Darkness, I knew this place was pathetic, weak and beyond the level of stupid, but, honestly: to make such a cowardly move with me standing in the room? That's not cowardly or stupid…that's DMW: Dead Man Walking…so…"
"Remember your word, Lord Morningstar!" exclaimed Dumbledore, earning a scoff from Harry.
"My word only applies to the Tasks and the Tournament, Dumble-dickweed," argued Harry, shaking his head as he looked up to the old man, "It has nothing to do with me honouring and avenging my companions' honour, especially since this lacklustre little insect can't even recognise a gift like Metamorphmagic and compare it to the fact that the lovely Madame Lestrange is still in Azkaban as we speak…for now."
Gasps of horror followed Harry's words, while the young man scoffed and sighed as he clenched his fists, dousing the fires again, "However, since this is only my first morning and I think little Red Riding Hood here got the message about how big my teeth are, I'll let it slide…this time! But next time any of you make any moves against my entourage, I won't just hurt you…I'll show you exactly what sort of champion I am…and hint? It's not one who is limited by your ass-backwards excuses of law and order…now, insect…buzz off!"
Waving his hand, Harry sent the redhead flying off towards the furthest end of the hall, where, by some miracle, he managed to land unharmed in a heap, earning a few relieved looks from the rest of the hall.
Harry, meanwhile, looked back to Dumbledore, his voice edged by smug amusement as he explained, "Also, let me remind you of what I promised you and Director Bones, Dumbledore: I promised to have the lovely Nymphadora watch over me, report on my movements and actions and make damn sure I'm not cheating the rules. Anything else, save those weak little so-called Unforgivable Curses, thanks to the rites of this little pissing contest, I remind you, and, since we're all assembled, I also inform my so-called rivals, as well as Mr Krum of this little loopy-hole; anything else, we can get away with…just as long as it's not the Big Three."
"But…but then…why's she here?" asked a random Hufflepuff, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Partially for my amusement, since she's one Merlin of a foxy lady…and partially because, like Ceddie, Flowery and Vickie, I need someone to be my representative…unless you mortals actually want me to reopen the Gates to the Netherworld and call up some of my dear friends to be my eyes, ears and judges on the panel?"
Stunned, horrified silence followed Harry's words, earning a snort from the Devil.
"That's what I thought…also, be thankful: after all, this isn't the first thing I've done today that could have wiped out half this school…at least."
He pointed upwards, just as the enchanted ceiling replayed the tempest, as well as the destruction done by the lightning strikes, hail, wind and rain.
Thankfully, it was just an illusion…
But that didn't stop more than half the school's occupants from looking at Harry like he was…well…
Like he was who he was.
HMKC
"You could have killed people!"
"Hello? Bad guy, remember?" asked Harry, pointing to himself as he was, once again, called to Dumbledore's office where Tonks also kept herself close to him, a part of her grateful for his timely actions in the Great Hall, while another part of her was surprised by how cavalier he sounded.
"And you!" insisted Professor McGonagall, earning a sigh from Harry as she pointed a finger at Tonks. "What sort of Auror doesn't react when he threatens the life of a child?"
"The kind who remembers that she can't touch me, unless I use the Unforgivable Curses and, unlike my little April shower earlier, she also didn't ask me to stop or make sure I didn't break any of your precious rules, even though, as with a lot of things, the rules don't apply to me!" insisted Harry, shaking his head as he turned to Tonks. "Honestly, my dear Dora, can you tell me: who is this old hag and why does she not have the skill of listening to the bleeding obvious?"
"Professor Minerva McGonagall."
"Named for the Roman Goddess of Wisdom, that's ironic, since she's thicker than the hairballs her Animagus form spits up," drawled Harry, earning a horrified look from McGonagall, while Harry looked back to the elderly lady as he hummed, "Hmm…McGonagall…I've met and known quite a few McGonagalls in my time. The last one was a nice enough guy…well, he was up to the point he murdered his own daughter and then slit his own throat, all under the influence of the Imperius Curse, of course!"
McGonagall fell into an armchair, horror, disbelief and tears of pain flooding her eyes, while Harry nodded, "Ah, you know him? Makes sense; he had to be somewhere in his 30s or 40s, if memory serves me right…and as for the little girl? I think she was only 4 or 5 years old; sadly, she didn't get to go to the Good Place. Such is the cost of being slaughtered like a dog thanks to the influence of that curse…wow, guess that's why they call it an Unforgivable!"
"How…how can you sound so…so…callous?" asked Minerva, her voice breaking with pain and agony, "He…he was my…my husband…and our daughter! He…he was…he was innocent!"
Harry scoffed, "And yet their murderer only got a slap on the wrist and a free stint in Azkaban, while the guy who helped send them there decided to preach forgiveness and second chances and blah-di-blah-di-blah…oof, I think I need a drink; last one to the bar's a prat!"
"Harry…you can't speak of something so…"
"Um, yes I can, Albus," interrupted Harry, scoffing again as he added, "Just like I can tell other tales, like one about a lovely boy who I got to know, right down to his bare-bones…name began with A, I think…."
Dumbledore paled, but Harry didn't bother noticing, and if he did, he didn't care, "And then, of course, there's the poorly-accursed Obscurial who is one of my favourites down in the Netherworld; lovely girl…hey, I think her name also begins with A…come to think of it, she looks a little like the other A-bloke, not to mention you, Albie…relatives of yours, perhaps?"
"Harry," insisted Albus, trying to maintain the air of control he was used to. "I understand you've had a hard life…being forced to look so old when you're just a kid…"
"Actually, I'm almost 80 years old, thank you very much," insisted Harry, earning dumbfounded looks all round as he scoffed. "Sorry: you do know time goes much quicker down there in the Netherworld than it does up here in Hippie-Dippy Land, right? Ten years ago, your time, I vanished, in case you forgot; in all that time, in Nether-Time, that's 7 years, sort of like dogs; ironic, really, but there you go."
Shrugging dismissively, Harry leaned against Dumbledore's desk, but he looked to Tonks, instead of the other so-called adults, as he went on in a calmer tone, "So, doing a bit of maths, I was four when I supposedly died and, again, ten years have passed since then, so ten, multiplied by seven, and yes, Albus, it is ten, since I vanished on Halloween Night, but I digress. Ten times seven gets you seventy…plus four and you get?"
"You're nearly seventy-five years old?" asked Tonks, a note of shock in her voice, while Harry laughed.
"And looking good for it, wouldn't you agree? Admittedly, my body clock really slowed down once I reached my so-called maturity at the ripe young age of seventeen, but that was only, nearly, two years after I went to Hell in old Lucy's handbasket, so…are we getting the point?"
"I know I am," laughed a new voice, earning shocked, but also relieved looks from Dumbledore and McGonagall as they saw a newcomer walk into the room, dressed in loose, finely-crafted robes, his grey eyes and dark hair giving him a roguish impression as he smiled at Harry.
"And, like you said, pup, you look pretty damn good for a near-eighty-year-old guy!"
"Hello again, Sirius," said Harry, before he swung his legs out as he leapt to his feet, where Sirius opened his arms to receive him.
"And goodbye…"
Harry snapped his fingers…
And Sirius Black hit the floor, his eyes full of eternal shock, disbelief and no small amount of pain as he hit the floor, earning rounds of screams from the portraits on the walls, as well as McGonagall, who looked to Harry in disbelief.
"You…you killed him?"
"And I didn't even use the Killing Curse to do it," drawled Harry, moving towards Sirius' body before he sneered at the horrified, beyond-disbelieving look on Dumbledore's face as the Devil himself smiled cruelly at the shocked old man.
"Guess I really can get away with murder…thanks for making it so easy, Albus…now, if you'll excuse me…"
Before they could stop him, Harry vanished in a swirl of black fire, taking Tonks and Sirius' dead body with him, leaving a beyond-horrified Minerva, as well as a confused, alarmed, terrified, but also very angry Albus Dumbledore behind, the latter of whom was asking only one thing.
'Four years old? How in the Hell did Harry Potter end up in Hell before Tom has a chance to kill him for me?'
Chapter 4 and…YIKES!
(Dodges axes, killing curses, poisonous snakes and whatever else fans can throw at him…hey: who let them have the kitchen sink?)
Yes, Sirius is DEAD!
And at Harry's hand?
Oh boy…hang on: is it my imagination or does it sound like the Devil himself planned to kill Sirius?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: The First Task dawns and Harry Morningstar returns…hang on: the Devil has to face a dragon? What next? A fly has to go up against the Big Bang? And what about the murder at Harry's hands? Surely he can't get away with murder…can he?
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