Trust and Betrayal
By: JA_Japster
Inspired and partially based on the OAV "Samurai X"
Harry Potter is copyrighted to J.K Rowling and Samurai X and Rurouni Kenshin is copyrighted to Nobuhiro Wazuki and Shueisha Jump Comics. The fanfiction is the product of JA_Japster and should not be reproduced in any fashion without permission.
Trust
Part V: Internal Affairs
Harry and Ron's satisfaction of another job well done was short lived. As they approached the Three Broomsticks to be debriefed, they noticed an unusual lack of activity in the tavern. Instead of the usual drunken patrons stumbling in and out, a half dozen stern looking witches and wizards stood watch outside the door, as if on guard against something. Something important was going on inside.
The leader of the guards lifted his chin slightly as Ron and Harry approached, approving them to enter. Madam Rosemerta was there to greet them, obviously excited about something the way she hurriedly ushered them in, not even taking notice of the bloodstains on Harry's robes.
"Hurry," Madam Rosmerta whispered. "You're needed up stairs. Quickly! Dumbeldore and Yale are here!"
"What?" Exclaimed Ron. "Dumbledore and Yale?"
Albus Dumbledore and Cyrus Yale were two of the most important figures of the rebellion, signifying the leadership of southern and northern England respectively. Former politicians themselves, the two men had seen the corruption in the government, and using their individual talents had spent the last five years forming an army composed of the lower classes of society. Alone the northern or the southern cells of the Order of the Phoenix had neither the influence nor strength to topple the Ministry, and that was why the talks between the two leaders were crucial to the success of the rebellion.
It was rumored for weeks now, however, that recently the leaders had begun to argue. The rebellion was finally large enough to achieve its purpose, but now with their goal so close in sight, the two brilliant minds could not come to an agreement on how to proceed.
As the two men walked up the stairs they could hear the thunderous roar of a dozen voices permeate the walls and filter into the hallway. Though Harry and Ron had never met Dumbledore or Yale, they both had heard them speak on many occasions and could easily pick out their voices amongst the rest. Hostility was evident in the argument, confirming the rumors that all was not as stable the Order as one should hope.
As they passed another set of guards, Harry suddenly stopped as a man turned the corner ahead of them. The man was older, dressed in a plain white cloak and his long black hair was tangled and messy, like a man who had just awoken from a long sleep. The man looked at Harry, and for a moment their eyes locked.
"Harry Potter." The man said.
"Sirius Black." Harry responded.
Ron looked from man to man in bewilderment. Their faces remained completely impassive, mirrored images of each other, content to stare at each other in the long silence that ensued. Ron cleared his throat sheepishly and muttered something about go ahead to the meeting. He disappeared around the corner.
A few more moments of stillness passed before Sirius's lips formed a small smile. He gave a short laugh. "You've grown insolent in your time away from me. Once you used to have the humility to look away in the face of your master."
"Former master." Harry corrected.
Sirius was the closest thing to a father Harry had ever known. His own parents had died when he was only a few months old, and that was when Sirius, a long time friend of Harry's father, had taken Harry under his wing as his own. Lacking both the money and the social status necessary e to send Harry to a prestigious academy Hogwarts, Sirius had spent Harry's early childhood years educating him to the best of his abilities.
"Yes, former master." Sirius conceded. "How long has it been now? Three years since you left, my foolish pupil?"
Three years…had it been that long since Harry had runaway from home to join the Order? It seemed like such a long time ago.
"Why have you come to London, Sirius?" Harry asked.
"So quick to dispense pleasantries with the man who once called you son?" Sirius asked. There was nothing in his voice, no signs of any hurt or anger at Harry's abrupt rudeness.
"You've never had any use for them before." Harry replied. "Now tell me why you're here."
Sirius exhaled deeply. "Walk with me, please."
"I have to go to the meeting." Harry objected, but when Sirius set off down the hallway Harry found himself involuntarily falling behind him.
"I have my own reasons for coming to London," Sirius said as they walked. "The first was to see if my idiot of a student had managed to get himself killed yet. You've seemed to be doing well for yourself. You're still alive at any rate, but I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. You've always been decent with the wand."
You would know best. You only taught me everything I know, Harry thought. Sirius was a master fencer, and from a young age Harry had been educated in the arts of dueling. He embraced Sirius' lessons with gusto, hungry to learn more in order to augment his natural ability with the wand. It was Harry's success with the wand, however, that would eventually cause the rift in the relationship between student and teacher, father and son.
"I also came to London to speak with Dumbledore." Sirius continued.
"What business do you have with Dumbledore?" Harry asked quickly. "You've never affiliated yourself with the Order."
Their differences concerning the Order was what eventually caused the breaking point between the two, and was the reason why Harry had not seen his second father in three years. When word of the formation of the rebellion reached Sirius' home in the countryside, Harry was fifteen and already an expert duelist, capable of holding his own against even a master of the trade. It was then that Harry decided to answer the rebellion's call, to offer his wand to help the cause.
He remembered the heated conversation he had with Sirius the night before Harry ran away. They were sitting at the dinner table that evening like they had for the past fifteen years when Harry announced his intentions of joining the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius had expressed his distaste for the Order's ambitions, but Harry was still not prepared for his mentor's response.
"I forbid you to leave!" Sirius had yelled across the table. "I will not have you running off to get killed for some hopeless, idealistic cause!"
Harry became livid and matched Sirius' outrage with his own. "And abandon my fellow Englishman in their time of need? Sirius, you taught me how to fight for a reason! Not to sit back and watch as people die all around me!"
"I taught you to duel to defend yourself!"
"I can defend so many more than just myself with my wand, Sirius! I will not stand by and watch as our country falls apart at the hands of greedy tyrants! You see the suffering and oppression of our neighbors, Sirius, of our people, and yet you refuse to help?"
"You're a fool, Harry! Had I known your weak mind would be so easily influenced by this idiocy I would never have let you pick up a wand!"
That was the last time they had spoken until now. That night, Harry had packed up his few belongings and snuck away to rendezvous with a group of youth who were enlisting into the Order as soldiers. Sirius made no attempt to locate his wayward student, and before long Harry became what he was today, an assassin, the Slayer.
"It was a personal invitation, one I felt might warrant my time."
"And did it?"
Sirius paused in mid step and faced Harry. "Listen to me well, Harry." He said with serious urgency. "I overheard some of what Yales and Dumbledore are discussing in the next room, and to be honest it is lunacy. Horrible things for England are in the making tonight, things you do not want anything to be apart of I assure you."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I want to give you one last offer to get out while you still can." Sirius said.
Harry laughed coldly. "You waste your time."
Sirius looked him in the eye and gently touched Harry on his shoulder. "Then there is nothing more I can do for you."
--
The streets of London were so much more peaceful at night. Somehow with the flurry of pedestrians, horses and cartridges, something was detracted from the city's natural beauty. The cobblestone seemed smoother, the air clearer, and the entire city all the more welcoming. It was already past midnight, and London was asleep. Even the local taverns had closed for the night, their patrons and owners gone home. The streets were deserted save for one figure that roamed about aimlessly, staring up into the sky.
Twinkle twinkle little star Hermione hummed. She loved the muggle lullaby when she was a child, and she tried to smile at the fond memory. She could not, however. Smiling was a luxury she no longer had, a moment of bliss that she had taken for granted before Theodon's death. Her world was so much more despondent with his absence. It refused to allow the occasional rays of sunshine of enjoyment and hope to pierce through the gloom that shrouded her existence.
She involuntarily glanced behind her to make sure the Aurors who were supposed to be watching her had not become wise to the trick she was playing on them. Sneaking out of her room was surprisingly simple. A few well-placed charms here and there now convinced the two wizards assigned to her that she was still asleep and not exploring the streets. She was a big girl, more than capable of protecting herself from anything that might threaten her.
Besides, she needed time to think and be by herself. In the countryside with her parents she was offered the isolation necessary to reflect and help cope with the sadness in her heart, but then the invitation from Fudge came. Her parents had not been happy about her going to London, feeling that immersion in the type of society that had killed Theodon in the first place was the last thing their daughter needed.
And they were right in more ways that one. In the country everything was so simple, upfront and honest. Scheming, manipulation and duplicity were commonplace in the city and nothing could be taken at face value. Here, trust easily lead to betrayal. That was the way of life. Trust nobody. Even though she loved her grandfather, deep inside of her Hermione was not certain he was telling her everything about how and why Theodon died. Everyone had secrets, some more terrible than others.
I don't belong here, Hermione thought. I wish I had never come.
Author's Notes
Ack. Personally I didn't like writing this chapter very much. Not enough happens and it spends way too long explaining things that I should've spread out in the past four chapters. A lot of the things brought up in the reviews (Why didn't Harry go to Hogwarts? Where did he learn to kill? Etc) had to be answered, and so I decided to bring in Harry's mentor and father like figure Sirius Black (who actually is opposite of who he is in the book, but a lot more his anime counterpart) to help me out. Not sure if I'll use him in a later chapter or not.
Next chapter is almost done. Updates will be limited to around once a week if I'm luck. Damn exams, and then winter break is almost upon us where I will be preoccupied with family activities and wasting time with friends.
Some people have commented on what this fic is based on. It's a Japanese anime OAV called Samurai X and the portions Trust and Betrayal are divided into four segments available to download through Kazaa or purchasable on Amazon or Ebay. It serves as the prologue to the anime series Rouroni Kenshin (which is also awesome) and sports a seriously darker and bloodier atmosphere. Highly recommended.
Oh, and can someone PLEASE tell me how to fix the upload errors I keep on getting. Sometimes it adds spaces, indentions, bolds or italics and sometimes it refuses to upload them. It's driving me crazy.