Harry Potter: Destiny's Call

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated material is owned by JK Rowling.

Author’s Notes: Well, hopefully I won’t be seized by apathy in the course of writing this, like I have my other stuff. In any case, I’d like to thank Christa for beta-reading this for me. Her suggestions helped out a lot. On with the show.

Chapter One: New Beginnings, New Faces

Harry stood alone in his room, silently brooding. Today was the day. He had promised Dumbledore he’d stay here until this day had come. As the night settled in on the world outside, he stood stoically, refusing to give into his protesting knees. He would be leaving Privet Drive. And he knew he would not return, no matter what the coming year entailed. Nothing could convince him to return to this place that had been his own personal hell for so many years.

As he stared out the window as the dwindling sun sank further beneath the horizon, all he could recall were all the things Dumbledore had tried to tell him. All the pieces of wisdom the old man had attempted to impart upon his stubborn mind.

But for all his wisdom, the simple truth remained. Dumbledore was dead. Killed by a man he thought he could trust implicitly. Slain by someone Harry had always suspected, always known would turn against them at any opportunity.

He breathed the name. “Snape…”

Harry felt his hands clenching unbidden as the foul face of the twisted Potions Master erupted from his mind’s eye—the man who had betrayed Albus Dumbledore. Harry was only now realizing how much he owed Dumbledore. Snape would pay, just as surely as Voldemort would pay for his parents’ deaths.

Breathing deeply, struggling to control the angry magic that welled within him as he thought of such things, he sat down, staring at his parents’ smiling faces on the photo on his desk. Even now, it soothed him. Smiling slightly, he stood up and went downstairs. Ron and Hermione should be here in only a few more moments.

His aunt and uncle sat watching TV. Harry had not let them know about what was happening in the Wizarding World. It would be enough for them to know tonight he would not be returning to them ever again. Abruptly the doorbell rang. Harry sprinted to it before his guardians could react.

“What in the devil are you doing, boy?!” demanded Vernon, rumbling to his feet.

His face blank, Harry replied, “I’m expecting somebody.”

A look of rage and fear crossed Vernon’s face, and his feet seemed glued to the ground. Harry opened the door. There stood his two best friends, along with Mr. Weasley as well.

“Hi,” said Harry, with a smile he didn’t completely feel.

Hermione’s smile, on the other hand seemed genuine. She gave him a quick hug. “Hello, Harry. Have you been alright so far?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but it’s been tough waiting for today.”

Ron gave him a tight smile as well. “Everything ready, Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s all upstairs. C’mon.”

He was heading for the stairs when his uncle found his voice again. “So, leaving are you?”

Harry turned a glare to him. “That’s right. And you can be glad; this time I won’t be coming back.”

Vernon took a step back at first, then leaned back forward aggressively. “You’re damn right you won’t be back. And good riddance to you! We’ve spent enough time of our lives taking…” His voice trailed off as he saw the iron hard look in Harry’s eyes. Hermione gave a small gasp and stepped back as she caught his gaze as well.

Harry took one step towards his uncle, who stumbled to retreat. “Save it for someone who cares. I’m just as happy I’m never coming back here either.” He walked out the door, past a slightly shell-shocked Hermione, Ron, and Mr. Weasley. They recovered quickly, and followed him out, Uncle Vernon still sputtering in their wake. Harry turned around, and took one last look at the place that had been his near-prison for most of his life. Any sorrow he might have had over leaving had been dampened by his joy at finally leaving. He had no regrets, and did not plan to ever see this place again.

The four of them stood in the dim stillness of the street. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. “All right. Now, you’ve all gotten your Apparition licenses now, right?” The trio nodded, Ron grimacing somewhat. He had taken the test twice, the first time ending up quite far from where he had planned, as his brother Charlie had. “Good. Now, then, you all Apparate to the Burrow. I’ll follow behind and make sure nothing goes wrong.”

With that, the three teenagers vanished with a pop.

Harry found himself standing in front of the Burrow. Ron dusted himself off. “Well, that’s over with. Nice to have you over again, by the way, Harry, even if it is only for a few days.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, well, it’ll be a chance to settle in before heading off to Godric’s Hollow.” He paused, contemplative. “You know, you guys don’t—”

“Don’t you even think it, Harry,” interrupted Hermione sharply. “We said we’d go along with you, and that is exactly what we’ll do. Don’t you dare try to get us to stay behind.”

Ron laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, as Mr. Weasley appeared next to them. “She’s right, mate. You don’t have to think you need to protect us. We know what we’re getting into with this. It was our choice.”

Mr. Weasley stood silently for a moment, gazing at his son with a heaviness in his heart. He was terrified for Ron, yes, going out on his own, with only Harry and Hermione as companions. But Ron was his own man, now, and he had to stand on his own two feet. It was always hard to see your children grow up.

Harry laid his own hand on Ron’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said, with the hint of a genuine smile now. “To both of you,” he added, with a look at Hermione, who smiled back. With that, they headed into the house.

Only Mrs. Weasley was there, busy making some food for them. While Harry tried to insist he was fine, his stomach’s rumbling betrayed him, and the three teenagers sat themselves at the table and helped themselves to a light meal.

Ron was the first to speak up. “So, Harry, once we do get to Godric’s Hollow, what are we going to do? I mean, obviously you want to find where your parents lived and all, see what you can turn up there, but what then?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to it. “Well, I would think we need to lay low, stay off Voldemort’s—oh for heaven’s sake Ron—radar. And we need to find out about this RAB you mentioned, Harry.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah… I’ve had a few thoughts about that, but they’re just thoughts. I don’t really know what to think about that.” He frowned and turned to Mr. Weasley, who was helping himself to the food, as well. “Are most of the Order members still at, um, you know?”

Mr. Weasley looked up at him. “Grimmauld Place? Yes. And thanks again, Harry for letting us continue to use it.”

Harry looked at his plate. “It’s what Sirius would’ve wanted.” Looking back up, he frowned. “I have to ask you something, are you going to send Order members to follow us?”

Mr. Weasley coughed slightly. “Well, of course, Harry. It’s far too dangerous for you to be out there on your own. What if you were attacked?”

Harry gripped his fork tightly. “I know there are risks, Mr. Weasley, but I’d prefer if nobody went with us.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Harry, Mr. Weasley’s right, it’ll be too dangerous. At least let them send one person. Maybe Professor Lupin or Tonks?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Look, Hermione, I have my reasons. Please, just trust me.”

Ron looked sideways at the both of them. Hermione locked eyes with Harry for a moment, then nodded. “OK, Harry. I will.”

“I trust you, too, Harry. We’ll do it your way.”

Mr. Weasley sighed. “Look, I can’t really stop you, but… I think you’re making a mistake.”

Harry’s eyes burned. “It’s my mistake to make. And if we never get allowed to make our own, we’ll never learn, will we?”

Mr. Weasley closed his eyes. “No, we won’t… OK, Harry, just… You three be careful. Be as careful as you know how to be. This is serious. The first mistake could be your last.” He opened his eyes again, staring at all of them. “I’m not saying this to try and frighten you. But you need to understand how dangerous these people are. They will kill without hesitation.”

Harry’s face tightened. “I’m well aware of that.” Hermione looked at him, her eyes turning down and she swallowed hard. Sometimes he seemed so distant and cold, she wondered what had happened to the Harry she used to know.

After a few more minutes, they headed upstairs. Hermione followed them into Ron’s room. Harry frowned at her. “Er, Hermione, I am kind of tired, so…”

“I know, Harry, it’s just…” She took a deep breath, looking at him with something like a sad curiosity in her eyes. “You want to kill Snape, don’t you?”

Ron frowned, turned to look at Harry, too. Harry tightened his jaw, looked away, not wanting to meet Hermione’s eyes. “He killed Dumbledore in front of my eyes, Hermione. He probably had a jolly time when Sirius died, too. And he’s been helping Voldemort all along.” When looked back at her, she took a step back jaw becoming loose as she saw the smoldering in his gaze. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t deserve it.”

It was Hermione’s turn to look away. “I… I won’t say that. If anyone deserves death, he…he does.” She turned back to him, pleading note in her voice, her face taut with a hint of desperation. “But… I don’t want you to kill anyone.”

Harry swallowed, his stare softening. “Neither do I. But I don’t have much choice about that. I have to kill at least one person before this is over.”

Hermione bit her lip. “I know. I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll let you two sleep, now.” With that, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Ron flopped on his bed, while Harry settled himself into a chair. Ron turned to him. “You know, it’s funny Ginny didn’t ask to come along with us, or even came down to greet you.” Harry heard the unasked question in his tone.

He sighed. He knew he’d have to tell Ron about what had transpired eventually. “Look, Ron… I really do like Ginny and all, and er, well… I told her it would be safer for her if she didn’t come with us. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

Ron frowned. “Well, I guess that makes sense… Still, I’d have expected her to put up a bit more of a fight. She’s pretty stubborn.” He paused. “And Harry, I just want you to know, if you were anyone else, I’d have already broken your legs for seeing my sister.”

Despite himself, Harry laughed, and after a moment, Ron, unable to resist any longer, joined him. With that, Harry retreated to the sleeping bag on the floor and let sleep take him.

The next morning, Harry awoke, finding Ron still snoring. He quickly dressed, careful to not make any noise and wake Ron, and headed downstairs. Arriving at the foot of the stairs, he noticed Hermione outside on the lawn, watching the last vestiges of the sunrise. He strode outside to stand next to her.

She glanced at him. “You’re up early,” she commented, her eyes never really leaving the red and orange patterns crisscrossing the sky.

Harry shrugged. “Wasn’t as tired as I thought, I suppose.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “So, tell me Harry… Is there any particular reason Ginny isn’t coming along? And why she didn’t greet you? And why she didn’t ask me about you at all, except to ask how you were when I got up to her room?”

Harry sighed, for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wondered just how many times he was going to have to explain this. He turned to face Hermione, and waited until she turned her eyes towards him as well. Her face revealed nothing, except perhaps some curiosity. “Well, it’s like this… Hermione, I… I really feel like, I don’t know, like Ginny is the best girl out there for me. She makes me feel content, makes me laugh, makes me feel like I don’t have to be a hero. And that’s why I didn’t want her to go with me.”

Hermione frowned. “Harry, that—”

Harry held up a finger. “Please, just let me finish. As I was saying, that’s why I didn’t want her along, because I don’t want her to be hurt. I know this is really dangerous, and I can’t risk her. I told her to stay behind for her own protection,” he finished. To his surprise, Hermione didn’t take Ron’s stance of acceptance immediately. Instead, she looked furious.

“Harry James Potter,” she said indignantly, eyes flashing dangerously, “that has to be about the stupidest, most loathsome idea I have ever heard. Don’t you want her around so you can protect her? Don’t you want her by your side so she can help you through what you’re going to be going through?”

Harry took a step back. “Hermione, I…”

“No, Harry. How can you say you truly care for Ginny if you won’t even let her make her own decision about this? How can you just cavalierly send her away? How can you even think you did the right thing? What does she think about this?”

Harry swallowed, his throat tight. “She understood, Hermione. She agreed this was best. So did Ron. I don’t know why—”

He was cut off sharply by the impact of Hermione’s hand on his face. “You sicken me,” she said harshly. “How can you even think that’s love?”

Harry stood there, shocked. He wasn’t sure how to react to this. He loved Ginny, he knew that. How could Hermione suggest he didn’t? Shaking his head, he went back inside.

They spent the better part of the day packing supplies and working out what the first few steps would be once they arrived in Godric’s Hollow. Mr. Weasley told them the Order had already arranged for a house for them to stay in there, so that was the least of their worries. Hermione had barely spoken to Harry since the morning, so he made care to intercept her while she went outside for some fresh air in the early evening.

“Hey,” he called softly. She turned to face him, before lowering her eyes.

“Harry, I… I’m sorry I hit you. I shouldn’t have.” He heard the trembling in her voice. He walked over to her quickly, laid what he hoped was a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, Hermione. Don’t worry about that. He peered at her down turned face. “Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

She sighed heavily. “Oh, it’s just… Well, Ron told me… How he feels about me. He really likes me, Harry, and… I think I like him, too. He still frustrates me, but I know he cares. The thing is, though,” she finally lifted her head, and he saw tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes, “I thought that once we had both admitted to what we felt, things would be different. But they’re not. It doesn’t feel any different, and I don’t know why. I was so angry with him for what he was doing with Lavender, and I thought once I was sure he liked me and I told him I liked him, I wouldn’t feel so empty inside.” She sniffed a bit, dabbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about my problems.”

He shook his head. “No way. You’re one of my closest friends, Hermione. I… I know I’ve kept things from you and Ron before, but I don’t want that between us at all, not anymore. Not when I need you guys so much.” She smiled, and he wiped a tear off her cheek. “You worry too much, Hermione.”

She laughed. “I know. I worry about everything and anything. I guess I just sort of projected my frustrations onto you, Harry. I really am sorry for acting the way I did this morning… And… all of last year. I was so horrible to you.”

He tried to shrug it off. “You were stressed. And you turned out to be right, I guess. I should have listened to you.”

She laughed again, but this time is was shallow and self deprecating. “Right. I doubt anyone would listen to me when I was being that bothersome, never giving them a moment’s peace. I don’t really have any excuse. I just hope you realize how sorry I am.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve already forgiven you, Hermione. There’s no need to keep saying you’re sorry.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her back in. “Come on, let’s get some food before we leave tonight.”

Ron greeted them at the table, along with Charlie, who had dropped by. “What were you two talking about out there?” asked Ron.

Harry shrugged. “Huh? Oh, you know, just stuff.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Stuff?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, does it really matter, Ron? If you really have to know, I was just apologizing to Harry for the way I acted last year. If you recall, I wasn’t exactly the best friend to him.”

Ron looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Hermione punched him in the arm. “Thanks for your support, you prat.”

“Ow!” said Ron, rubbing his arm. “You’re the one who said you weren’t nice to him, what’d I get punched for?”

Charlie laughed. “Ron, never agree in those situations, even if the girl’s the one who said it in the first place,” he said, somehow managing to sound sagely, even with a ridiculous grin on his face.

Everyone but Ron laughed, whereas he plunked his forehead on the table, muttering, “What did I do to deserve this?”

After about an hour, as the sun had set and the skies grew dark, the trio set off to begin their quest. While Harry had explained some of the details to them, he figured he’d wait until they were settled in before telling them everything. He didn’t want anything left unsaid between them, just like he had told Hermione. The three of them marched out the door, their traveling bags filled, through shrunken for easy carrying. With an abbreviated goodbye, the three Apparated to the small community called Godric’s Hollow.

The streets were dark, with only a few scattered streetlights illuminating the gloom. A light fog had settled over the neighborhood, adding a bit of an ethereal feel to the street they were standing on. Nobody appeared to have noticed their arrival, and so the three started towards the address Harry had been provided. They walked for two blocks, before arriving in the front of a small, one story home.

Harry breathed deep. From what he knew, the house had been completely destroyed when Voldemort attacked his family. It made sense that someone had rebuilt here, though. He wondered if this house was like his had been. He heard Hermione saying something.

“We probably shouldn’t linger too long here. We don’t want people getting suspicious. I think the place the Order set up for us is a couple blocks that way, Harry.” She and Ron started to move away, but Harry stood transfixed. She stopped and gave his arm a tug, startling him from his reverie. “Come on, Harry, you can come back later. Let’s go.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. He wasn’t sure what he would find here, didn’t even really know what he was looking for. But seeing as how this is where it all began, he decided this was the best place to start.

As they made their way down the streets in the cool twilight, Harry thought he heard someone approaching. He quickly stole a glance over his shoulder. There was someone behind them. He couldn’t see them well in this light, but they looked like they were wearing a cloak. He nudged his two companions, and gestured with his head, as innocuously as he could. They nodded, started to pull out their wands.

The fog seemed to thicken, the streetlights growing dimmer and seeming to fade into the mist. Suddenly, the light above them flickered and died with a small pop, and they glanced about wildly.

“And what would three young magic users be doing out at this time of night?” came a light voice from in front of them. Harry whirled about, seeing the person behind them had vanished. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione had their wands at the ready. “Oh, put those away before you hurt someone, really. I think the question was innocent enough, don’t you?”

Harry swallowed. If this person worked for Voldemort, they needed to get away, fast. “Mind telling us what you’re doing here?” he asked, trying to sound intimidating.

The figure chuckled softly. “Quick turnabout there. I’m going for a walk. How about yourself, then?”

Ron spoke. “We were going for a walk, too.”

Harry thought he saw whoever it was smile slightly. He couldn’t see their eyes behind the hood, though. “Really? Never seen you three around here. Just move to the area?”

Harry felt his heart pounding. If this person was going to attack, why did they waste their time talking? It was bad enough they were trapped here, conversing on the street with a stranger, worse that they were in unfamiliar ground, with the most powerful Dark Lord in a century after them. “Erm, that’s right, we’re new here.”

“Interesting. I haven’t seen any moving vans or the like… Or do you prefer the nocturnal hours for all your activities, hmm?” Harry swore he caught the sign of a playful smile on the face of the person facing them, and grimaced. This was definitely not a good situation. He saw Ron fidgeting, and knew he was about to do something rash. Great.

Ron growled. “We don’t have time for this.” He opened his mouth to begin an incantation, when the figure winked into existence in front of them, driving a hard fist into Ron’s gut, and swinging an elbow at Harry, catching his temple as he tried to duck. As he fell, ears ringing from the blow, he realized that they had done a quick Apparition, like he had seen Dumbledore do against Voldemort.

Hermione managed to jump away, screaming “Stupefy!” The figure somehow dodged, leaning forward, and then quickly pirouetted on one foot, driving a kick into her abdomen. Harry struggled to his feet, his vision blurry and moving slowly in the aftermath of the blow to his head, pulling out his own wand, before stopping at seeing a lethal looking dagger aimed right between his eyes.

“Attacking a perfect stranger without any provocation is hardly becoming of you, Mr. Potter. And I would’ve thought the company you keep wiser than to begin an assault without knowing anything at all about your foe. You have a lot to learn about combat.” This close, Harry realized suddenly the voice was that of a woman.

We just got beaten up by a girl, he thought with dread. How could he expect to beat Voldemort if he was getting beaten by random women on the street?

The woman lifted her knife, hiding it in the sleeve of her cloak, before holding out a hand to Harry. “Don’t worry. If I wanted you dead, your bodies would be lying outside the first house you stopped at.”

“That doesn’t make me feel very reassured,” Harry bit out.

The woman sighed. “No, I suppose not. Look… I’m here because, well, despite what Mr. Weasley said, the Order wasn’t exactly going to let you gallivant out on your own. So they sent me to keep on eye on things.”

Ron, gasping with pain, said, “He promised he wouldn’t have an Order member tail us!”

The woman seemed to shrug, cocking her head to one side. “True enough, I suppose. But I’m not a member of the Order, so technically he did not break his promise. I should’ve been clearer; I was hired to keep an eye on things.”

Hermione frowned, struggling to her feet, as Ron did the same, nursing her surely injured belly. “You’re some sort of mercenary?”

The woman’s head turned to look at her. “Something like that. Now come on, it is best to not be standing here, drawing attention to ourselves. Let’s get inside, and I will explain the best I can.”

Harry finally accepted her hand, and she hauled him up. Her grip was strong, though her fingers and hand were slender. She was shorter than him by a touch, and though he couldn’t make out anything about what she looked like, but he guessed she was slight from her hand and wrist. “One thing, first, if you would. What’s your name, since you know who were are?”

She laughed softly. “That’s only fair, I suppose. Call me Lyss. Lyss Kendricks.”

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.