Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated material is owned by JK Rowling. I do, however, own the character of Lyss Kendricks.
Author's Notes: Once again, thanks to Christa for beta-reading. This chapter is mostly concerned with the introduction of Lyss. The main plot will be beginning next chapter. Yeah, sorry, I know it's starting slow because I wanted to bring in a new character who really upsets things. Constructive criticism is very welcome, as I'm still trying to flesh out all the details. Tell me what's working well, and what isn't. Also please note: I don't have my copy of HBP with me at the moment, so unfortunately I'm running off pure memory from one reading. As such, I'm probably going to have to hold off on the next couple chapters until I go back home and get my book, so I don't get some details screwed up. I should also note that while not immediately H/Hr, due to details in HBP, it will happen eventually. The R rating is fairly liberal. I did it because I might end up working with some darker stuff later on. Best to cover your bases.
Also, I'm not entirely sure when the next update might be. Hopefully it'll be in another month, and in the meantime, I'm going to try and finish up Swords of Power (I've said that about 100 times by now, though, I'm sure).
Chapter Two: Heart of a Killer
They entered the small house which the Order had appropriated for them. Lyss had led them there, quite comfortable walking in front of them, even though Ron had still had his wand out. Harry, personally, didn't think she thought ill of them-considering how effortlessly she had defeated them, without even using magic, her claim that she could have easily killed all of them didn't seem like an idle boast to him. Likewise, while Lyss had acted like she hadn't noticed Ron's wand pointed at her back, Harry was sure she knew, and was quite capable of defeating him again if he tried anything.
Lyss unlocked the door, handing them all keys. "These keys are all specially charmed so that only you may use them. In other words, Mr. Potter, this key will only work for you, this one for Mr. Weasley, and this one for Ms. Granger. Because of this, you cannot switch keys, so keep that in mind. Also, while it is not terribly troublesome should you lose your keys because of these safety measures, do try and avoid doing so, will you? It would be somewhat annoying should I need to make more." With that, she opened the door and led them inside.
The place looked comfortable enough inside, and was fully furnished. The kitchen and dining area were off to one side, with a central hallway down the middle, and a living space opposite the kitchen. "Wow," commented Ron, "they certainly set this place up nicely."
Lyss gave them a sardonic look as they moved into the living area. "I'm glad you like it so much, since the Order members paid for the house and the furniture out of their own pockets." That caused them all to start.
Hermione glanced at her companions. "They… Harry, Ron, we can't live like this. Not knowing that the Order paid for this themselves."
Lyss rolled her eyes. "Please, your idealism notwithstanding, do you believe they would've done it if it wasn't important? Just understand where it came from, and appreciate that. Don't take it for granted."
Hermione swallowed. "I won't."
Lyss smiled. "Good." With that, she pulled down her hood for the first time. She had brown hair knotted in the back of her head, a pale, thin face, and, oddly enough though Harry, violet eyes.
Hermione seemed to notice the unusual pigment as well. "Your eyes are… Interesting," she said, the question in her voice evident.
Lyss shrugged off the query. "It's normal for my family. Well, really my clan I guess you could call it."
"Your clan?" asked Harry.
She didn't even look at him. "Another time, maybe. It's not really important. I usually use a spell to change the color my eyes anyway; it's too distinct a feature." She paused a moment. "I suppose I owe you somewhat of an explanation of who I am. Sit down."
Ron frowned, glancing at Harry. He didn't really like their current straits, and he did seem somewhat abrasive. They all obliged her, though, rather lacking any other options which made any sort of sense. Lyss leaned against a wall, facing them.
"As you guessed, I'm what you would term a mercenary, a soldier who fights for money. I was indeed hired by the Order of the Phoenix to watch over you three, and perhaps teach you a little bit about fighting. As you may have noticed, I have some abilities which most magic users would consider tacky and pointless. Why punch someone when you can hex them, right?" She smiled, but it was not a warm smile. It sent chills down Harry's back, and he could see from the looks and Ron and Hermione's faces that they felt it too.
Lyss continued. "In any case, I think you should know very specifically what I am. More than a mercenary, I have trained my entire life in how to end the lives of others. I have never attended what you might deem a 'normal' magic school. I was taught by my clan in the art of death. In short, I am a killer. It is the only life I have ever known."
Hermione recoiled as if burned. Ron had a horrified look on his face. Harry sat stock still, unsure of how to react to this. This woman was some sort of murderer? And the Order had hired her to watch them? This was disgusting.
"How…" Hermione's voice came out as a whisper. "How can you do that? How can you kill someone for money?"
Lyss stared impassively. "I never killed for money. I killed for the currency necessary to keep my people alive. To you, that may not mean much. But to me, it means a hell of a lot." She moved from the wall. "Now that that's out of the way, you all should settle yourselves in and think about getting some sleep. You're going to want to get busy immediately, I would think." With that, she turned from them and strode down the hall, entering one of the rooms and closing the door behind her.
Ron slowly got up from his seat. "This is crazy," he muttered, "Totally crazy. That woman, I mean… She seemed nice enough at first, but that…"
Hermione nodded. "How can she be so nonchalant about killing people? I mean… that's just so wrong."
Harry didn't say anything for a minute, as Hermione and Ron continued to agree in various ways that their chat with Lyss was very disturbing. He finally stood. "What do you suppose she meant by her clan?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, Harry. But… If you ask me, when she mentioned it the first time, she seemed a little sad, don't you think?"
Ron snorted. "Sad? How could someone like that be sad? You just got finished telling me she's probably a psychopath."
"Sociopath, Ron. It means she doesn't feel much about other people, disconnected from her feelings of right and wrong." She bit her lip. "But… I may be wrong. Now that I think about it, she did indeed seem a little sad about her clan, whatever that is."
Harry nodded, and looked down the hall. "Well, we probably should take her advice. And we probably also shouldn't talk about her like this behind her back."
Ron grunted. "Yeah. Who knows what she'd do if she heard us saying bad things about her. Probably hang us by our toes or something."
Hermione flashed her eyes at him, but said nothing. They split up, Ron and Harry taking one room, Hermione taking the last one, next to Lyss's room. After unpacking a bit, they discovered a staircase down to a slightly dusty basement, which had a few shelves of stuff, but was otherwise empty and open. As they poked around the room, Harry found himself feeling drowsy, and Ron yawned nearby. Harry straightened.
"I guess we were more tired than we thought," he commented.
Ron grimaced. "Yeah, and my stomach still hurts where she hit me."
"You should try getting kicked instead of punched," muttered Hermione crossly.
When Ron opened his mouth to respond, Harry quickly stepped in. "Er, let's just get some sleep, alright guys? It's been a long day, so we could use some rest." Ron swallowed, nodded. Hermione assented as well.
The three headed back upstairs, bidding each other good night and heading into their respective rooms. Ron didn't say anything, just flopped onto one of the beds. Harry looked at him for a moment, but Ron just stared at the ceiling. Wordlessly, Harry slid under the covers of his own bed and let sleep take him.
He awoke sharply the next morning, sunlight pouring in through the window. Looking at a clock on a nearby table, he saw it was past 9. Ron was still sleeping. Harry got up, and put on a bathrobe, heading to the bathroom. He found it occupied, the sounds of the shower running evident.
Harry sighed. "Hermione, are you in there? I really need to use the loo."
He heard her voice return. "There's a bathroom downstairs, Harry, if you really need to go. I just got in here myself."
Harry frowned. He hadn't recalled any bathroom downstairs. But then, Hermione had always been a little more observant than him. He headed to the basement, and sure enough, found a bathroom tucked in a corner. Fortunately enough for him, it had a shower of its own. He emerged some time later, feeling a lot better.
Padding back upstairs into the kitchen, now fully dressed, he found Hermione and Ron, who had a surly look on his face, sitting around the table, drinking tea. "You didn't have to pull the covers off me, I could have gotten up on my own," he was saying, quite disgruntled.
Hermione 'hmphed,' crossing her arms over her chest. "You were snoring so loudly, I doubt you could have heard me yelling over it. I honestly don't know how Harry can stand sleeping in the same room as you."
Harry sat down next to her. "I dunno, maybe I snore, too?"
Hermione laughed, and Ron's face lifted a little. He looked around. "Where's Lyss? I would've expected her to be up already."
Hermione picked up her mug. "She is. I saw her leaving when I was going into the bathroom."
Ron didn't seem to like the sound of that. "Leaving? Isn't she supposed to be watching us?"
They jumped at the sound of Lyss's voice from the door. "True enough. Except for the fact that I'm sure you all noticed there wasn't any food in the fridge, and barely anything in cupboards. It wouldn't exactly do to starve to death before beginning your great crusade, would it?" She was dressed in her cloak, a traveling bag slung over her shoulder.
Harry turned to look at her. "You went shopping? Where are your bags?"
She smiled slightly. "Well, I didn't exactly want to have to carry half a dozen grocery bags myself, so I shrunk them. They're in here," she added, patting her bag.
Hermione got up to help put things away. After unloading one bag, she looked at Harry and Ron. "You know, you two could make yourselves useful here, as well."
"Oh, er, sorry," Harry stammered, standing to help them. Ron scrambled out of his seat as well. They packed everything away in a few minutes. Harry couldn't help but notice that much of the food seemed to be like something you'd find at a health food store. It was just their luck that Lyss was a health nut, too, on top of being a borderline sociopath. He saw Ron's face fall as well as he observed what kind of stuff Lyss had bought. Harry knew Ron would likely be somewhat disgruntled by the lack of sweets or anything resembling dessert. At the very least Hermione would probably be ok with the food. Her parents were a little health crazy, too, from what Harry could determine. At the very least, they were fiends about non-sugar foods.
The three returned to the table, while Lyss made some toast. "So," she asked idly, "what do you three plan to do today?"
Harry scrunched his face. When he had declared his intention to come here at the end of the school year, he had just felt it was what he had to do. But now that he was actually here, he realistically didn't know what to do. He knew he had to track down the Horcruxes, figure out who RAB was, and try to figure out some way to defeat Voldemort, but knowing that and doing it were two completely separate things.
Lyss turned to them, leaning against the counter, mug in hand. "You don't actually know, do you?" she queried with a small chuckle, smiling. "Well, at the very least, you can check out your old house, Harry. The current residents won't be there until later this afternoon."
Harry fixed his eyes on her, as she calmly sipped from her mug. "How do you know that?"
She peered over the top of the mug at him, blinking once, slowly. "I've been doing these sorts of things for a very long time, Mr. Potter. Plus, I have a few contacts who are very good at watching things surreptitiously. Trust me."
Hermione glowered. "Do you intend to be so cryptic with everything you say? It would be a lot more helpful if you would actually let us know what you know, rather than just smiling and treating us like children."
Lyss's smile vanished and she set her mug down hard. While her face did not show any signs of a glare or angry expression, nevertheless, Harry felt like wilting under her intense gaze. He noticed Hermione quail somewhat, as well, while Ron pushed his chair away from the table, as if trying to get away from Lyss.
"Make no mistake," Lyss said softly, though it sounded almost like a growl to Harry, "in this world, you are children. None of you have any concept of what you will bear witness to, or be forced to do by the time this is all over. That is another reason I was hired to guide you in this manner. I have seen death in a way you have not."
Harry felt his blood boiling. He stood up violently, suddenly shouting at the woman. "Seen death in a way we haven't? I've seen what it's like to watch people die, and there is nothing at all pleasant about it. I know this isn't a game! You don't-"
"Mr. Potter. Sit down and be quiet." Her voice was deadly soft. It was a tone Harry recognized well. Snape used it when at the limits of his patience. Harry fumed, but reluctantly took his seat. "You lack control of your emotions. While your capacity to feel for others is a strength that will be most useful to you, inability to control your own feelings can, and will destroy you. You think you've seen death? You cannot comprehend what my eyes have witnessed." Her violet irises almost seemed to glow. "I have watched as countless people your age and lower have been cut down mercilessly. I've seen the elderly and infirm hacked to pieces while they tried to escape. I've seen the life drain from a person's body as I stared into their eyes, clutching the instrument of their death in my hands. Death is a familiar companion to me. Pray that it is never that way to you. Don't think you understand the true nature of someone like Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They have malice and cruelty in a way you might never know." She breathed heavily through her nostrils.
Ron looked like he was sick, Hermione horrified. Harry had an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. This woman was as bad as the Death Eaters. Why did the Order send her? It almost seemed like a cruel joke for a brutal murderer like Lyss to be 'guiding' them in a battle against evil.
Lyss's face softened slightly, her countenance now not so frightening. She closed her eyes, turning away to look out the window in the kitchen. "Take heed, all of you. I'm not here to turn you into killers. Far from that. But I must show you what it is to be one. That is what you will face in the struggles before you. And you have to understand how such people think, and act. You must know these things. Or you will die."
When she turned back to them, her eyes were shining with…sadness? Harry could hardly believe it. "Lyss, what--?"
She smiled forlornly. "I'm fine. But… I want you all to remember this well. I am a killer. You are not. But while I was born to it, and have no choice now about my inner nature, you three do. I do not want you to be as I am. You are all far too decent and noble to become what I am."
Hermione stood, stepping towards Lyss. "Lyss, you… You have a choice, too, you know. You don't have to be a killer any more than we do."
She shook her head. "I'm afraid it is too late for me. Even should I not take a life again, which I find most unlikely, I already have far too much blood on my hands for complete atonement. The only thing I have with which to sustain me is this: Fighting is the only thing I have ever truly been good at. But at least I always fought for what I believe in. It doesn't wash away the blood, nor silence the screams of those I have killed. But it's important to remember that killing is not a game, nor a sport. It's something that is part of being a warrior. I accepted that long ago. I am a killer, Ms. Granger, and always shall be. But I remember that killing is not a sport. It's all I need." She smiled. "You three will never be like me. I will make sure of that."
Lyss stepped forward and patted Hermione on the shoulder, approaching Harry and Ron. "You had better set off soon. Those people will not be gone forever, Mr. Potter."
He nodded and stood. "And Lyss… Call me Harry."
"Yeah, and call me Hermione," Hermione added. Ron grunted. "He means you can call him Ron." Harry laughed, as did Ron in spite of himself.
Lyss smiled slightly. "Perhaps he needs more caffeine in the morning. All right, then, let us go. Time to explore the past, huh?" With that, the four of them left the house and headed for the place where Harry's home had once stood, and where his destiny had truly began.