The Assassin

The Assassin - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Perched on top of the house across the street from the Dursley’s residence, Harry Potter observed the quiet street that was shrouded in darkness. His eyes wandering over the landscape below as they adjusted to the lower visibility the rising moon permeated. The yellowish glow from lights within households illuminated the street, along with the orange tinge from the many street lamps lined along the paths. Harry’s eyes were trained on the window that looked in to the living room of 4 Privet Drive. Within, Petunia Dursley laid on the couch watching the television. The flickering fluorescent lights emitting from the boxy device illuminated the semi-dark room.

A set of headlights from an annoyingly loud car turned in to the top of the street, illuminating the dark shadows as it rumbled along slowly. Harry instantly knew it without looking that was the sports car Vernon owned that was slowly approaching, extremely familiar with the sound of the irritating vehicle. However, he was not the only one familiar with the low rumbling. Petunia shot up from where she was laying comfortable, scrambling to turn the television off and hastily make her way into the kitchen. Harry knew that she feared being on the end of either of Vernon’s or Dudley’s wrath, he knew what it was like first hand.

The car pulled into the driveway and shut off moments later. Two large men hopped out of the car, the vehicle instantly lifting a few centimetres up from the ground once the heavy humans exited. The two made their way inside, heading to the back of the house ready for their dinner to be served to them like ravenous kings. Harry got comfortable in his position on the roof, knowing he needed to wait until the streets were fully covered in darkness and the residents of Privet Drive had settled in for the night. He would wait all night if he had too, taking advantage of the right time to go in his favour.

While he waited patiently, his mind couldn’t help but wonder to the past. Remembering why he was here and all of the pain he had experienced. Harry couldn’t remember much of his time with his parents before they were killed. His first and earliest memories being trapped inside a cupboard, hardly sleeping in fear of the door being opened and the abuse beginning. He remembered how he would have to make breakfast and lunch from a young age, gaining kitchen skills through trial and error. Making food to the exact liking of the abhorrent family. Flashes of fists flying at him, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the painful phantom bruises resurfacing in his skin.

Harry couldn’t help but experience the exact same feelings as those terrifying memories re-emerged. All of the abuse he had faced in those few years forever effecting him, changing the way he had lived. He hated to think what would have been of him if he had continued to live there instead of being found on the streets that fateful night. He knew for a fact the abuse would have only worsened. Vernon had enthusiastically encouraged his son to contribute to the physical abuse from a young age. Looking at the size of his grown cousin and the mean streak he had at school, he knew he wouldn’t have survived much longer in their ‘care’. Between the mental abuse from them all, plus the emotional neglect, he would have been dependant on any show of affection or sympathy from anyone he met.

His attention was drawn back to the present as he noticed all three of his relatives had made their way into the living room. He watched as Vernon immediately snatched the television remote from the coffee table and sat back in his chair in the corner of the room. Dudley took his usual position on the couch, spreading out and half hanging off as he laid down. Petunia tiredly sat in the other chair that sat closer to the window, her body out of view from this angle. Harry knew his time was approaching to strike as he watched the family relax for the evening.

Time seemed to go by slowly as he watched every small movement with hawk like eyes. To occupy his racing mind, he pulled out of the new throwing knives from its sheath of his ankle. He absentmindedly twirled it on the tip of his left pointer finger, ignoring the slightly pain it caused. Harry noticed the fidgeting with his knife calmed his busy mind, clearing it of the intrusive thoughts. His eyes scoured the street below, looking through the small amount of windows where curtains were opened. Observing that majority of occupants had already either gone to bed or were quietly watching their favourite television programs.

In all honesty, Harry could probably head on in right now and start the job. However he wanted to wait just a little longer. He needed them to be in the prime position for when he entered. Preferably one or two members of the household leaving the living room. That way he wasn’t able to be ganged up on, not like they would be able to with his magical abilities. However it was better to be safer rather than sorry. He exhaled deeply as he adjusted his position on the roof, his muscles aching slightly from the training he had been putting his body through the last day and a half since receiving the new weapons for his birthday.

Finally the chance for him to enter the house arose as Vernon barked an order at his obedient wife. She rushed out of the room and seemed to disappear into the back towards the kitchen. No doubt to whip up some dessert for the hungry obese men. Closing his eyes, he checked the status of all of the wards and protective charms over the house. Only to find nothing had changed since he was there last night. Harry smirked as he placed his knife away and stood up to stretch his limbs quickly. He made his way carefully, yet swiftly, over to the edge of the roof. Grabbing on to the thick branch of the tree that overshot the roof, he made quick work of descending safely down to the ground.

Harry made sure his hoodie was covering his identity as he ran across the street with speed, eyes never leaving the window of 4 Privet Drive. He crouched down as soon as he arrived at the door step, wand sliding smoothly in to his hand. Silently he unlocked the door with a small click signifying the success of the spell. It swung open a few inches, a strong scent of alcohol wafting straight into his nostrils. Harry scrunched his nose in disgust as he stood up from where he was squatting. He took a cautious step in to the house for the first time in eleven years.

With his body fully inside, he softly moved the door to close behind him, eyes never leaving the hallway. All of his sense where on full alert as he made his way towards the living room, back against the wall to keep him from view. Inch by inch, he moved closer to the doorway of the living room. His ears filled with the sounds of an action filled tv show. Peeping around the corner, Harry saw his relatives up close and personal for the first time in years. The rage quickly surfaced at the sight of the two males relaxing in their living rom. He tried his best to fight off the urge to go in with guns blazing, trying to keep his rational side above any other strong emotions.

Pointing his wand at his fat uncle, he silently stunned the man with a nonverbal ‘Stupefy’. The red light whizzing through the air and striking the unsuspecting victim. Although the light was bright and lit up the room momentarily, the only child continued to lay where he was as his eyes never left the television. Face scrunching up in disgust, Harry wasted no time in casting the same spell on his cousin, getting what he deserved for being so caught up in the brain dead media. Harry entered the living room quietly, making his way directly to the open window. Shutting the curtains to prevent onlookers from his heinous action that were about to occur.

Turning around, he took in the faces of his relatives. Disgusted by the state that had allowed themselves to progress into. The greasy skin shone in the lighting, clothes barely concealing their large bellies, fat, short fingers hanging loosely over the edge of their favourite seats, the stench of alcohol permeating from both father and son. His eyes caught sight of the cupboard he used to be condemned to. Fist tightened around the handle of his wand, anger seeping out and lashing out at the small vase of flowers sitting on the wooden coffee table. The vases smashed in to a million little piece, combusting absolutely everywhere, nothing safe from the sharp shards.

“What was that?” Petunia’s high shrill voice yelled from the kitchen before quick footsteps came towards the living room.

Harry watched with a devilish smirk on his face, only the bottom half of his face visible, eager for how the next few moments would unfold. Petunia walked in to the entrance hall only to stop dead in her tracks as he eyes laid upon her passed out family and the stranger standing square in the middle of her living room. Her terrified eyes widen as she noticed the wand hanging in the right hand of this darkly dressed person. Heart beating faster at the smirk she could see beneath the hood of the cloak. She took a few steps backwards, hand reaching behind her to try and find a weapon to help defend herself from this person.

“Hello Auntie,” Harry drawled out with a deep voice, only smirking even more viciously when recognition dawned in her eyes. “Have you missed me?”

Petunia begun to shake her head in denial, not wanting to believe who stood in her house right now. But she didn’t have much time to react as a red spell came flying directly at her. Rendering her unconscious almost immediately. Harry did not flinch as her body hit the ground, rather he chuckled darkly to himself as he strolled over and took one of her legs in his grasp. He dragged her limp body in to the middle of the living room, releasing her leg and not caring when he heard a loud thump as it hit the ground. Merely flicking his wand, he moved the coffee table out of the way and in to the corner of the room.

Not wanting to hurt his back by the heaviness of his uncle, Harry casted a silent ’Wingardium Leviosa’ and shifted the unconscious large male down to the floor. He slowly paced around his two previous caregivers, taking deep breaths to calm his angry magical core. He stared down at the with a grimace firm on his face. The sight of them making him sick as memories of what they had done to him were fresh in the forefront of his mind. Pointing his wand directly at Vernon, he casted a nonverbal ’Incarcerous’, thick rope shooting out of its tip and wound tightly around the lifeless body. Repeating the same process with his aunt soon after that.

Wasting no time, Harry safely placed his wand away before grabbing out his Blackhawk Tatang knife from its holster on his calf. He knelt beside his uncle’s chest, watching the ropes restrict his breathing in what surely was an uncomfortable way. He begun carving into the fatty flesh on display, cutting away muscles and tendons, exposing parts of bones to the surface. Making sure to not leave the face alone, Harry begun disfiguring the fatty cheeks and slicing open the lips until the face was almost unrecognisable with crimson blood. Becoming bored, he attempted to straddle the man’s chest as best as he could.

“Rennervate,” Harry whispered, the spell shooting out from the middle of his palm.

Vernon Dursley gasped awake, wiggling under the weight of someone who sat upon him. Terror filled his eyes as tears mixed in with the blood running down his cheeks. An agonising pain was shooting all throughout his upper body. He looked up at the stranger that had bound him, trying to make out any details through his blurry vision. He managed to catch sight of the weapon that had obviously done so much damage, it was safely nowhere near his precious face anymore.

“W-Who are you?” Vernon stuttered in a weak whisper.

“Don’t you recognise me, dear Uncle?” Harry laughed darkly as he pulled the hoodie off of his face to finally reveal himself.

Nothing came out of Vernon’s mouth but gibberish, instantly going in to shock at who the invader really was. It had been many years since Vernon had seen the putrid kid, and it had been the happiest years of his life with him gone. He was thoroughly glad he had kicked the kid out. Even more so thinking it had resulted in the death of the burden child. But he couldn’t ignore the fact this person had the exact same rare eye colour as well as the same uncontrollable, messy mop of hair that his nephew had. The only thing that was vastly different was the absence of the ugly scar that had resided on his forehead.

“Harry?” he asked in a whisper, everything hurting to move, to talk, to breathe.

“Or Freak,” Harry hummed as he held the bloodied tip of his knife to his chin in contemplation. “Oh, one of my favourites was when you called me a little mutt. Or was it burden that was my favourite? Hm, it seems I have forgotten. What was your favourite name to call me, Uncle Vernon?”

Gulping, Vernon turned his head to the side. Not shame, but rather embarrassment hanging over him as his nephew continued to talk. Embarrassed he had been tied up, that he had been caught off guard, that he had been overpowered by a fifteen or sixteen year old. His eyes laid upon his unconscious son who was still on the couch. His heart pounded at the sight, all he wanted to be able to do was protect his precious little boy at any cost. Turning his head to the other side, not being able to look at his son like that any longer, he saw his wife laying a mere few inches from him; unconscious and bound as well. The same feeling he had for his son wasn’t present as he looked at Petunia. He couldn’t care less for the situation the woman was in.

“Well that’s not very nice, now is it, Vernon?” Harry said, grabbing the fat, bloodied face and forcing it to turn towards him. “What shall we do with you, hmm?”

“What do you want from me?” he weakly pleaded, tired and sore.

Harry smirked darkly as he raised his left arm up, nonverbally waking both Petunia and Dudley up at the same time. As he waited for the spell to kick in, he tuned in to the status of the wards, keeping them in the background of his mind. Looking between the other two, he revelled in the confusion that filled both their eyes as they slowly came too. Petunia begun struggling within her confines as her memory resurfaced from moments before, frantic eyes overlooking her mutilated husband. Sighing in relief as she saw her son unharmed on the couch. She looked up at her nephew, into the same green eyes as her dear sister, Lily, had. An unhinged, deranged look deep within, nothing like she had ever seen from anyone before.

“Now that everyone is awake, I shall begin,” Harry smirked. “Vernon. I’m going to hurt you.”

The man in question whimpered beneath him, a pathetic sight to behold. To either side of him, Harry could hear soft cries and please to be let go. He moved his eyes from his uncle to his cousin, making direct eye contact with Dudley for the first time in eleven years. Recognition dawned in his eyes as his small pea sized brain worked hard to figure out why the guy looked so familiar.

“I’m going to maim you. You’re going to beg me to stop, but I am going to torture you,” he said while never taking his eyes off of Dudley, delighted as he saw the other squirm under his glare. “I am going to make you regret the day you took me in to your home. And make you regret the day you ever laid your fat little fingers on me.”

Harry moved off of his uncle and knelt beside his arm. He teased the already open wounds by sticking the tip of his knife inside the red flesh. Vernon screamed in pain, trying his best to wiggle free or get away from the knife. Smirking, Harry grabbed hold of the short, fat fingers, stretching them out instead of them being curled away safely. He stared directly into Vernon’s eyes as he traced the knife all the way down his hand and came to stop at the pinkie finger. Without hesitation, without even looking, Harry pulled the finger away from the rest and begun hacking at it. Separating the foul finger from the hand.

“Stop!” Dudley yelled as he watched on in horror.

Dudley stood up from the couch and walked directly to his father and cousin, ready to save him from the torture. Yet he didn’t get very far as a white light hurdled towards him and hit him square in the chest. His body seized up, everything becoming stiff. Then the next thing Dudley knew, he was on the floor, frozen in position. All he was able to do was stare helplessly at his father as Harry continued with the onslaught of torture. All he was able to do was let a few small tears fall from his eyes. That was all he could do in this very moment.

With his large cousin now out of the way with a full body-binding curse, Harry scoffed as he turned his attention back to his slicing. He managed to finally separate the member from the hand, watching with glee as his uncle’s eyes rolled back in his head and passed out from the pain he was undergoing. Although, as much as it was easier to do his work without a fight, he was feeling quite sadistic right now. He wanted to be able to revel in the pain, to see each moment he hit the right nerve, to know that he was experiencing just as much pain that he had inflicted with these fingers.

“Rennervate!” he yelled furiously, the red light coming straight out of his left palm with speed.

Once again, Vernon gasped as he was forcefully awoken for the second time. He weakly lifted his head to try and find the damage done to him. Although his giant belly prevented him from seeing his hand that was tied to his side. He frantically looked up at the callous smile that was firm on his nephew’s face. He didn’t need to be told what had happened since he passed out, he knew he was missing a finger. He could feel the warm liquid gushing against the rest of his remaining fingers.

While Harry begun work on the next finger, he felt a small shift in the wards alerting him that an alarm had been raised with the Order members. He growled in frustration as his fun was about to be cut short. With a renewed sense of urgency, Harry begun to hack harder at the fingers on his uncle’s right hand. In a record time, he managed to sever all five fingers without stopping at the sickening sounds of bone being crushed and squishy noises emitting from the flesh. He quickly moved over to the other hand and repeated the process, ignoring the soft pleas from Petunia beside him.

Blood soaked the carpet beneath Vernon, creating a spongy noise as Harry stood with feet either side of the fingerless stumps of hands. He looked around at the family that once abused him, glad to see the fear they had instilled in him present in their eyes. Making sure they were both paying attention first, he then proceeded to bring his right hand up to his shoulder and he lent forwards slightly. He looked Vernon dead in the eyes as he swung his right arm down with force, slicing a deep, long gash in the middle of his throat. The male immediately begun to gurgle and choke on his on blood. No longer being able to breathe properly, he soon passed out from oxygen depletion. The life slowly draining from his body.

A loud bang rung throughout the streets outside. Harry looked towards the window, knowing his time was limited. He slid his wand down into his hand before casting a nonverbal ’Finite’ towards Dudley followed rapidly by two ‘Obliviate’ spells directed at his cousin and aunt. The door knob rattled as the person reached the front of the house. Not wanting to chance anything else, Harry apparated out of the room, going directly to the roof of the house across the road. He watched as a purple robed wizard with a long grey beard stormed into the house, pausing at the entrance as his eyes caught sight of the mess in the living room.

Harry closed his eyes and used all of his energy to quickly clean the crime scene of his DNA and magical residual and signature. Feeling the return of his magic from the Dursley’s house, clearing him from any suspicion or being revealed. He made sure to erase the possible footprints left in the pool of blood that had soaked into the carpet as well, cautious about leaving any trace at all. Breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure, satisfied he did a perfect job. As he sat on the roof allowing his magical core to recover, he watched as Order member after Order member begun apparating into the street and rushing into the house.

“Minerva McGonagall,” Harry whispered out loud while distractedly placing his dirty knife away. “Nymphadora Tonks. Severus Snape. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Dedalus Diggle. Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Mundungus Fletcher. Fred and George Weasley. Alastor Moody. Emmeline Vance. Elphias Doge. Bill Weasley. Hestia Jones. Wow, almost the whole gang is here.”

Harry chuckled to himself as he sat back and watched the events unfold. He watched as each person walked in to the house and almost instantly walking back out. Well except for a few, the ones that are used to seeing stuff like that or that don’t have a weak stomach. Molly was frantically trying to keep her kids out of the house, while simultaneously trying to help Petunia and Dudley out of the house. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, finding her overbearing motherly actions too much even from this distance. She finally succeeded in getting the two surviving Dursley’s out of the way from the busied Auror’s.

What Harry was not expecting was the red faced Dumbledore that stormed out of the house, yelling and barking orders at his little sheeple. He saw Severus Snape follow closely behind, clearly acting as the perfect right hand man for the manipulative Headmaster. He couldn’t make out the exact words that were shouted directly into Severus’s face, but he knew the angry old man had order the Potion’s Professor to check over the mostly unharmed Petunia and Dudley. Oh, how Harry was thoroughly enjoying the chaos he had caused tonight. The random attack clearly throwing Dumbledore off his game and destroying his usual calm composure.

The chaos continued to ensue as Severus reported back to the Headmaster of Hogwarts that the memory of both surviving family members had been wiped professionally to the point it could not be recovered. Harry chuckled as a mini tantrum followed the information, seeing yet again the old man loose his cool. He watched as the thin, lanky, black haired Severus Snape distanced himself from the rest of the group. Seemingly content to sit back and watch everyone else try and control the situation at hand. Switching sides behind the chimney, Harry watched with intrigued eyes as the Potion Master of Hogwarts begun combing over the neighbourhood for any signs of disturbance.

While he was thoroughly impressed the double spy agent thought to look outside the main crime scene, it did put Harry at risk of being exposed. As the cold, black eyes searched the rooftops of the surrounding houses, he momentarily hid fully behind the chimney. He stayed with his back fully against the brick structure and face overlooking the backyard of the property he was on, for more than a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and slightly peered over the edge of the chimney and saw the coast was once again clear to resume his normal position.

Harry couldn’t help but be intrigued by the lone man. Of course he had done a lot of research on every Order member, but there was limited information when it came to Severus Snape. He would love to know what dark spells the other had created, only releasing a few deemed acceptable for society. Harry weighed up his options in that moment. He knew he wanted to learn more about the man, and he could do that by slightly gracing the surface through Legilimency. But could he risk being caught if the man was more advanced in Occlumency than the reports showed. Deciding that he only lived once and also had the option of escaping quickly if need be, he prepared to use some Legilimency.

Grabbing out the small box in his pocket that held his shrunken broomstick, he flicked open the lid and took out his Nimbus 2000. He knew that if he needed to escape, he wouldn’t be able to apparate without alerting people to his presence and potentially leaving behind his magical residue. Quickly getting his wand out, he casted a nonverbal Disillusionment charm upon himself and broomstick as an extra measure of precaution. Taking a deep breath, he recalled his magical signature that lingered in the air around him, before he trained his eyes upon the Potion Master and begun to concentrate.

Slowly, Harry pushed his presence into Severus Snape’s mind. He tried to break down the barriers within at a snail’s pace as to not alert the other. He found a little push here and there, but so far he had yet to be detected. Harry could contribute the slightly relaxed barriers due to the distractions of the ongoing events around the man. He was utterly impressed at the sheer amount of layers he had protecting his mind. It was unlike any he had seen before. The impressive barriers would have definitely come in handy when it came to being a double spy agent for both side, preventing either mad man from perusing his memories and thoughts without permission. There was no doubt the other had probably perfected the art of sharing specific memories while not letting his guard down at the same time.

Suddenly, the barriers were slammed back up in full force and Harry was ejected out of the mind of Severus Snape’s. Without hesitation, Harry shot up in to the sky. Lingering in the air above the houses as he watched the baffled Potion’s Professor look around the street for the culprit. Knowing he was close to being caught, he took off swiftly towards a different city where he could safely apparate from. Flying at high speed, he felt the adrenaline rush pulsing throughout his entire body. His mind was racing almost as fast as his broomstick. The elated feeling present in the forefront of his mind at getting away like the assassin he had been trained to be.

Harry had been so caught up in his euphoria that he didn’t realise he had flown more than a few cities over from Little Whinging. Chuckling to himself, he brought himself down as he flew above the unfamiliar town. He spotted a small alleyway with no lights around. Knowing that spot was definitely safe enough, he slowed down his Nimbus 2000 and came to land expertly in the middle of the quiet alleyway. Placing his broomstick back into its box, he pocketed the box in the inside of his cloak. Harry took a deep breath as he gathered his bearings, knowing where he was about to apparate to next would take out a fair amount of energy from his magical core.

With eyes closed, he focused on the location in his mind before apparating the next second. He opened his eyes to find he successfully travelled to the outskirts of Hogwarts. Towering over him was the Main Entrance Gates of Hogwarts herself, the wrought iron shining in the moonlight. At either side of the gates sat two winged boards, looking over the entrance, ready to protect when the time arose. Harry looked around from where he stood, a plan formulating in his head without any effort. Not far from the gates were a small group of bushes, perfect for hiding behind.

The plan was to follow whoever returned back to Hogwarts, until he could safely break away and quickly make his way into the Headmaster’s office for his big reveal. As Harry settled in behind the bush, he mused about how he hadn’t developed a plan for after the big reveal. Unlike his usual meticulous self, he left the rest of the night to his spontaneous side. He double checked the Disillusionment charm was still active, hiding him from view, as he then begun to rummage around in his mokeskin pouch. Summoning some of his candy supply to munch on while he waited patiently, gazing around the quiet landscape lit by the soft moonlight.

Harry didn’t know how much time had passed since he first begun crouching behind the bush, but he was finally joined by the presence of the some Order members. Loud bangs that sounded like cars backfiring rung throughout the silent area as member after member arrived at the gates of Hogwarts, only the Auror’s of the group were missing with the returnees. His green eyes scrutinised each one of the tired faces that appeared, his senses on high alert in case his presence was to be detected. Without a word, the Headmaster flicked his hand in the air to open the gates. Big, dark bags sat under his eyes, a sign of the toll this situation was having on the old man. The sight only bringing more pleasure to Harry and especially because of what he was about to do.

Dumbledore started to lead the silent, gloomy group up the path towards the magnificent castle. Seeing his opportunity, Harry slowly stood up. He instantly stilled as black eyes roamed the area for which he stood in. Senses on high alert and his wand at the ready to slid into his hand in a millisecond, as the one and only Severus Snape combed the bushes and the nearby area for the source of the sound he had heard. The tense few seconds finally passed as the Potion Professor turned on his heel and caught up with the back of the group with his long, quick strides. A heavy sigh left his lips once the immediate danger had passed, making his way out of the bush as stealthily as he could.

The gates started to close the further the group walked. Harry only just squeezing in passed them as they fully closed, ensuring no one else could enter for the night. With each carefully step, he followed the Order at a safe distance, stalking them until the perfect moment to break away. There were moments that had Harry pausing periodically due to the double agent turning around and looking around with wary eyes. Credit must be given where it is due, and he must admit he was exceedingly impressed with how in tune the professor was with his senses. He also could not help but think how great of an assassin the dark auraed man would make, sadden great talent was lost to a game of power between two madmen.

The group gradually made their way to the staircase that led to the main entrance. Dumbledore once again flicked the doors open as he approached without a word, a little harsher than he normally would as they slammed against the walls with a loud thud. Finding the opportunity, Harry stilled on the spot and watched carefully as they made their way inside the ginormous castle. As soon as the doors had fully closed, he pulled out the box from the inside of his coat once more. Grabbing out the broom and watching it expand before his eyes, he tried to calm the racing thoughts in his mind. Breathing out slowly as he pocketed the box, Harry reminded himself to treat this like any other usual mission.

Kicking off and heading high in to the sky, Harry swiftly manoeuvred around the breathtaking structure until he arrived outside one of the windows of the Headmaster’s office. He sighed as he couldn’t see any easy way in, of course nothing could simply go his way in a helpful manner. Thinking quickly, hoping he wouldn’t run out of time, he decided to break the window and repair it once he had successfully gained entrance. Gripping tightly onto the broom’s handle with the left hand, he raised his right hand into the air and concentrated on the bricks above the window.

“Carpe Retractum,” muttered Harry out into the quiet nights air.

Thick rope shot out of his palm and attached itself firmly to the brick work. Harry carefully directed his broom towards the window, hovering as close as he could as he begun to transfer his weight from the broom to the rope. Holding all his weight with his right hand, he swung his legs off of the broom and placed them directly on the window. For a second he looked distressed as he awkwardly held the broom in his hand, before deciding just to slip it in his mokeskin pouch for the time being.

With his free hand, he grabbed the remainder of the rope and tied it securely around his waist. Hesitantly, his right hand let go of the rope until he was supported in the air by nothing but the rope. He couldn’t help but to let out a soft sigh of relief for the fact that he wasn’t currently plummeting to the ground. Harry held his left hand over the open pouch before summoning one of his less used knives. The smooth leather wrapped around the metal handle landed in his open palm. The short sword known as the Cinquedea would perfectly assist in his plan.

Easily sliding his wand down in to his right hand, Harry inspected the shiny surface of the sword. He concentrating hard on how he needed to morph the metal into a hammer. Once he envisioned exactly what the objected needed to transform into, he raised his wand and carefully moved it in the air. He waved it in the precise motion he had been taught and finishing smoothly with the tip facing the hammer. A beam of red light engulfed the Cinquedea sword until it could no longer be seen. Harry could feel the girth of the leather handle thicken in his hand slowly. Within seconds the red light evaporated and before him, in his very own hands, was a hammer.

Transfiguration had always come easily to him, yet he knew this form of magic was one of the hardest branches to conquer. Anything could happen if the circumstances weren’t ideal or his mind was distracted. Another reason he had chosen this particular weapon from his inventory was for the fact items could become partially or permanently transfigured. He’d much rather take a risk on a uncommonly used weapon than one of his favourite weapons like his trusty Blackhawk Tatang knife.

Quickly putting his wand away, Harry switched the newly transfigured hammer into his right hand. He grabbed onto the rope with his left hand, wrapped it a few times loosely around his wrist, before swiftly untying the rope from around his waist so he could move but still had a safety buffer in case he were to slip. Carefully he started to shuffle down the rope until his feet were on the brick below the windowsill and his torso was lined up with the bottom of the window. Knowing time was against him, he commenced wildly, yet with extreme control, hitting the bottom right corner of the window with the hammer. Within five strikes, he found it was beginning to shatter, spurring him on until he made the breakthrough he desperately needed.

Glass shattered in to the room as a fist sized hole appeared in the corner. After a few more hits above the hole, a crack shot out horizontally into the middle of the window from the corner. A sadistic smile crossed his face for a spilt second as he brought the hammer back and threw it with full force at the new weak point. Shards of glass poured down in all direction, covering not only the room but him as majority of the window broke. Thankfully his hoodie was covering his face, protecting his face from the sharp piece. He switched ends and used the leather handle to clear the bottom half of the window from the remaining shards still in place.

Harry pulled himself up the rope a little further before pushing away from the wall with his boots and effortlessly swinging through the window. He landed in a balanced squat, feeling the glass shards crunching under his heavy boots. As soon as he let go of the rope, it disappeared as if it had never been conjured. He waited a second to still his slightly elevated heartbeat before slowly standing up and taking in the circular room before him. Not wasting anymore time, he turned around sharply which in turn created more crunching from the broken glass. After switching the hammer to his free hand, his wand easily slipped into his right hand once more. Raising it, he pointed the smooth wood at the hammer in his left hand.

“Reparifarge,” he muttered the counter-spell for transfiguration.

A white light shot out of his wand and engulfed the hammer. Harry once again felt the item begin to slowly shift in his grasp, reverting back to the thinner handle of the Cinquedea. After a few short seconds, the light disappeared and he was once again holding the weapon in its full form. While he was rather grateful it had successfully transfigured twice, he had more pressing issues on his hands. Blindly stuffing the weapon into his mokeskin pouch, he raised his wand towards the broken window.

“Reparo,” whispered Harry, immediately turning around and walking further into the room knowing without a doubt his spell would resort the window to its full form.

Eyes locked on the desk in the room, Harry walked over to it and pulled out the heavy chair. He lowered himself in the wooden desk chair. He felt the power course through him from the centuries of powerful wizards and witches that had all sat in this very seat. Running his fingers over the smooth wood before him, he couldn’t help but notice the piles of unattended paperwork and letters to the side. Smirking at the thought of the stressed headmaster spending majority of his time lately trying to locate him; very unsuccessfully at that.

Leaning back, he kicked his legs upon on the desk, not caring a bit that he knocked some of the paperwork out of place. Gracefully he crossed his legs at the ankle and pulled out his Blackhawk Tatang knife from its sheath. Twirling it absentmindedly in his hands as he allowed his mind to wander for a moment as he patiently waited for the group to arrive. Harry allowed his eyes to wander occasionally, smirking as he saw some of the portraits silently observing him while others openly gossiped. He was grateful they didn’t seem to leave the portraits to alert Dumbledore, wondering if they were curious how events would play out or they were disloyal to the current Headmaster. Perhaps a mixture of both.

“Lemon Drops,” the Headmaster loudly barked out the password to his office, a wave of anger accidently lashing out at one of the nearby paintings which resulted in it landing face down on the ground and crying out understandable profanities.

Harry rolled his eyes as he heard the outburst from his position all the way up in the office. Anticipating the arrival of the group, he checked that the hood of his cloak was fully hiding his identity. The entire group first seemed oblivious to his presence as the room was quickly filled, much to Harry’s loathing. He eagerly watched as Order members begun to pause and instantly raise their wand at the intruder. His eyes scanned the room, looking at each person and their position to form possible escape routes if need be, before landing on black familiar eyes that stared directly back at him. A frown ever so slightly present on the harsh, pointy features of Severus Snape.

“Reveal yourself,” Severus barked in a low tone, confusing Dumbledore as he seemed to be the only one left that was unaware of the current situation.

Icy blue eyes locked on the figure that sat in the Headmaster’s usual seat. Dumbledore knew he had many wands pointed at the stranger, so he merely stepped forwards in front of group with no wand drawn. He tried to study the young man, but could not figure out who he was or why he was here in his office. Let alone how he got in to the most secure place in the area.

“Reveal yourself. Now,” Severus said louder and more aggressively, irritated his demand was rudely ignored the first time.

With a smirk on his face from successfully unnerving the usually perfectly controlled Potions Master, he held his hands up in surrender. He brought his legs off the desk and stood behind the Headmaster’s desk. It was only then that the group truly observed all of the weapons he carried on him. Harry raised his right hand, pausing to showing he was merely taking off his hoodie after a few Order members stepped forward in an offensive pose. They were already on high alert, and some were clearly ready to fight at the first sign of trouble. Pushing back the hood, he allowed them to see his electric green eyes for the first time. He lingered on each of their faces, taking in their surprised and confused looks, and meeting each gaze without fear. He knew that only a few recognised his identity in this very moment.

“Who are you,” Dumbledore asked after the standoff continued dragging on.

“I believe I am the one you have been looking for, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry said with a smirk and an evil gleam in his eyes, twirling his Blackhawk Tatang knife in his hands threateningly.

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