VII
By: JA_Japster
Copyright Notice: Harry Potter is copyrighted to J.K Rowling. All manga/anime that served as the inspiration/basis for this fanfiction is the property of their respective authors and publishing companies. Black Cat is copyrighted to Jump Comics and Yabuki Kentaro. The fanfiction itself was written by me and should not be reproduced in any shape or form without prior consent.
Chapter Two: Hesitation and Mistakes
Remus Lupin was not a particularly old man but already he looked as such. Speckles of gray in his neatly combed brown hair and deep creases that marred his otherwise comely features made him appear years beyond his true age. He looked exhausted, as if he might collapse at any moment, and the dark shadows beneath his eyes did nothing to suggest otherwise. Lupin sighed wearily and leaned against the polished exterior of the black automobile they had arrived in. It was so troublesome traveling in muggle transportation, but precautions against alerting muggles to the magical community was a priority these days. It would have been just as simple to apparate in and out; others had pointed this for quite some time now, but Lupin was not a man who questioned orders.
A soft growl brought Lupin's attention to a large gray wolf pandering at his feet, gazing up at Lupin expectantly. The beast reeked of death and splattered blood and gore stained its sleek coat of fur. The wizard smiled and ruffled its head. As he did, he noticed a large chunk of bloody flesh caught in between the wolf's pointy fangs. Reaching into the pocket of the black jacket he wore, Lupin extracted a handkerchief and carefully cleaned the wolf's mouth, ignoring the repugnant stench of the beasts' most recent kills.
"All better," He said, tossing the bloody handkerchief to the side. "I suppose you want to go now?"
The wolf barked in response, wagging its tail happily in agreement. Chuckling, Lupin reached into his pocket and this time produced a wooden wand. Engraved into the pommel was the Roman numerals III. He muttered something, and suddenly there was a loud crack and a blinding flash of light. When the light subsided, the wolf was gone.
"I thought you said this was going to be a battle," Ron Weasley muttered. He took a long drag on the cigarette in his mouth, and with a scowl he flicked it away. The smoldering remnants landed a few meters away. It rolled, spreading embers on the blood stained grass, and came to a rest beside the unmoving body of a man. "This was a massacre."
Lupin shrugged and paused to survey his surroundings. He and Ron were waiting by the black muggle automobile in the lot of an elaborate house. It was more of a castle really. With the medieval architecture and towering security gates surrounding the enormous estate, all it needed was a drawbridge and maybe a moat to complete the illusion of being a remnant of the Dark Ages. Surrounding the mansion were the dead bodies of over a dozen men. They were sprawled about in the estate's expansive gardens, their lifeblood soaking into the meticulously manicured grass. It was a shame. Lupin was someone who could appreciate good botany when he saw it, and despoiling such a dedicatedly maintained garden was most regretful.
"What's taking Harry so long?" Ron wondered as he lit up another cigarette. He checked his watch. "He's been two minutes already."
The moment after Ron had said that, the front door was thrown open and Harry stumbled out. He was covered in blood. Ron cursed loudly and, tossing aside his cigarette, he ran to help his friend. No sooner had he reached Harry, the assassin collapsed into Ron's arms.
"What the hell, Harry?" Ron demanded. "What happened in there? Is Winslow dead?"
Harry nodded, but said nothing as Ron dragged him back to the car. With Lupin's help, they managed to prop their wounded comrade on the hood of the car.
"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked again. Beside him, Lupin was perched over Harry, wand out and slicing away at Harry's suit. With a flick of his wand, he cut away the raven-haired assassin's sleeve, exposing a deep gash in his right arm.
"I…" Harry muttered. "I messed up."
"Bollocks," Ron said, shaking his head. "You never mess up."
Lupin whispered something, and from thin air a bandage materialized and wrapped itself around Harry's arm. "I'm not much of a healer I'm afraid. This will have to do until we get back to headquarters."
"What do you mean you messed up?" the red-haired wizard queried. "How?"
"I…I hesitated." Harry replied, his voice soft and distant sounding. "Winslow…he begged me not to kill him…and…"
Lupin's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Harry? You hesitated to kill Gregory Winslow?" This couldn't be true. Harry was still quite young to be in the Thirteen, but he was already a veteran of dozens of high-ranking assassinations. Freezing up when executing the target was a mistake only a rookie would make.
Harry nodded again. "I lowered my wand and he went for his. He hit me with something. I didn't have a choice. I…I killed him."
"Of course you killed him!" Ron shouted incredulously. "That was the bloody mission!"
"I don't know why…" the dazed wizard whispered. "I killed the guards…seventeen of them inside. But Winslow…I paused. I can't explain it."
"Don't worry about it," Lupin assured Harry. "Ron, get him to the healers. I'll wait for the clean up to arrive."
Ron nodded. They helped their injured team leader into the car and Ron hopped into the driver's seat. The automobile started with a loud roar and its tires squealed loudly in protest as its driver floored the gas pedal. It sped off, leaving tread marks in the flawless paved parking lot surface, and within moments it vanished from sight.
Lupin sighed and pocketed his wand, concern evident on his prematurely aged features. This was supposed to be an easy assignment and their team leader was wounded. That alone would not look good on their mission report, but when Lilith received word that Harry messed up, there was no telling what the consequences would be. The Thirteen killed people. That was their only job: to kill quickly, and remorselessly. To have a sudden crisis of conscience was entirely unacceptable to the Elders and had the potential to jeopardize any members' position in the Thirteen.
Personally, Lupin did not enjoy killing people in cold blood, but he had long ago accepted the necessity of his occupation. These were not good people the Thirteen eradicated. These were above the simple crooks who sullied the streets who were dealt with by the law. These were the real menaces to society, the ones who preyed on the weak from behind their protective wall of wealth or power. Their deaths only made the world a better place. To take another human's life was a terrible thing, but sometimes evil was needed to combat greater evils. If executing an unarmed man while he sobbed for mercy on his bedroom floor protected thousands of innocent from their evil, then so be it.
Harry understood this too, and that was what disturbed Lupin. The young wizard embraced the idea of destroying the corruptness in society, and he never questioned the validity of their targets. He trusted Lilith like Lupin did, trusted that the Elders were sending them to kill the kind of men who plagued the world with sin. That was part of why Harry was so good at his job. He believed in the cause of the Thirteen whole heartedly, devoting himself to ridding the world of evil no matter what the cost.
So why did he hesitate?
"Well, isn't this interesting," A cruel voice said.
Lupin did not need to turn to see who the newcomer was. He knew that voice. A middle aged woman dressed in the same manner of the Thirteen had appeared beside Lupin. She was an older woman, but would have been still considered beautiful if not for the menacing sneer that was eternally branded on her attractive face.
"Hello, Bellatrix." Lupin addressed his colleague politely, but the stiffness in his voice was all too obvious. It was hard to get Lupin to dislike someone. He was a tolerant person who could endure the worst of offenses without ever bearing a grudge. Bellatrix Black, however, was a person he did little to disguise his revulsion for.
The woman cackled and looked at Lupin, exposing the roman numerals V that were burned into her cheek. "What happened to the boy?" She asked.
"None of your business, Bellatrix." Lupin said tersely. "Where's my backup?"
"On its way," Bellatrix replied with a scowl. Just as it was common knowledge that Lupin despised Bellatrix, it was also known that the enmity between the two was mutual. She smiled, a perverse gesture that was distorted by the malice lurking within it. "You know, the Elders will not look favorably upon this."
"That is up to Lilith and the Elders to discuss."
"They have tortured us for less," Bellatrix reminded Lupin, licking her lips at the thought. Bellatrix the Tormentor. That was her given name amongst the Thirteen, and like all the rest of their names, it was not assigned meaninglessly. Unlike Lupin who killed because he had to, people like Bellatrix enjoyed their job because of the pain she could inflict. She was infamous for torturing her victims to death, reveling in their screams as her victims slowly died. This unadulterated pleasure she received from hurting others was only a small part of why Lupin loathed her.
"Lilith would never allow that," Lupin said confidently. A long time ago back when Lupin first joined the organization, perhaps Lilith's predecessors would have allowed such barbaric methods to punish the failure of their own members. Lilith the Prophet, however, had brought a touch of civility to the distasteful nature of their profession, and for that, Lupin was eternally grateful.
"She is weak." Bellatrix said with disgust evident in every word. "Unfit to lead us."
"She is stronger than you'll ever be."
Bellatrix nodded reluctant agreement. "Me, perhaps. But not others."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lupin asked suspiciously.
Bellatrix only smiled.
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The Dueling Room was the most private sanctum of the Thirteen's training facility. A large, windowless room with polished wooden flooring, the Dueling Room was everything its name implied. Rows of every type of weapon hung on racks and a variety of training device stood lined up neatly along the walls. It served as the sparring room for the Thirteen, a room isolated from the rest of the world where the combatants could hone their combat potential to the fullest.
Two figures occupied the room at the moment. One was a man with white hair who wielded a curved sword, a katana. The other was a young woman who held a double-edged short sword. They circled each other for what seemed to last an eternity, eyeing their opponent in search for an opening.
The young lady, barely more than a girl, was dressed the same as the man in the simple uniform of the Thirteen. She was small, a good head shorter than her opponent, and this combined with her dark hair and slightly slanted eyes denoted her obvious Asian heritage. However, her height and short reach did not deter her prowess in combat as she quickly proved, forcing her opponent back in an onslaught of lightening fast strikes.
"Good, Cho." The man said. He parried a blow that would have taken him in the chest, and counter-attacked with a vicious cut at the girl's head. Instantly, her sword met it with a loud metallic clang that echoed throughout the large room.
"But you're holding back." The man calmly said as he looked his opponent in the eye over their crossed blades. "Why?"
Cho Chang did not answer, but gritted her teeth and concentrated on overpowering the other swordsman. Allocating all her strength into her arms, she pushed as hard as she could until beads of sweat poured down her brow. However, the white-haired swordsman did not give an inch, effortlessly matching her strength with his own. Then, he began to push forward with his sword, forcing her to give ground to avoid being completely overwhelmed. Within moments it was obvious who was in control of their duel, and so with a snarl of annoyance, she disengaged her blade in a shower of sparks and leaped backwards.
The moment her foot touched the ground, she whipped her sword back up to defend herself, but already her white-haired opponent was upon her. He rushed forward and struck in a blinding blur of motion. Her weapon was battered away and knocked on the ground, and suddenly her throat felt the cold touch of steel.
"Surrender?" He asked, holding the tip of his curved blade pressed unwavering against her skin.
Locked in that moment of mortal peril, time seemed to stand still as and a cold chill descended down Cho's spine. She swallowed hard, gazing into those cold gray eyes that watched her like a predator eyeing a tasty morsel. Slowly, her head nodded, and immediately the blade withdrew, allowing Cho to breathe again. Involuntarily her hands touched where the sword's sharp point had pressed into her skin, feeling for blood that she knew would not be there.
"Your guard is still sloppy," The man told her reproachfully. "And I know you can move faster than that."
"I'm sorry, Kaji" apologized Cho. "I will do better next time I promise."
Kaji glared at the girl. "Will your opponent allow you a second opportunity?"
Cho shook her head, though her shame was tempered by a tinge of irritation. She could not even count how many times Kaji had repeated the same lectures, the same criticism and corrections. Were she to one day duel perfectly, she had little doubt that he would still manage to find some flaw in her performance.
Fortunately for Cho, she was spared further reproach when Kaji suddenly noticed a young, blonde woman standing quietly on the side, observing them interestedly. It was Lilith the Prophet. Somehow, during their duel, the Commander of the Thirteen had slipped in so quietly that neither of the two combatants had noticed her entrance over the raucous clash of steel.
"Good afternoon, Commander." Kaji and Cho said, offering polite bows.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your training session," Lilith said after returning the bow. "But I need Cho's help."
"Who's hurt, Commander?" asked Cho worriedly. As well as being an excellent swordswoman, she was also the Thirteen's healer. Whenever Lilith requested Cho's help for something, it was because one of their numbers had been wounded beyond the skill of the normal healers at St. Mungo's.
"I'm afraid Number Seven was wounded on his latest assignment." Lilith answered.
"Harry's been injured?" Cho gasped in alarm. "Is he going to be alright?"
Catching the concerned look in her subordinate's eye, Lilith quickly replied, "It was a minor injury. Nothing too serious, but it needs to be tended to quickly."
"I'll tend to him right away," Cho said, sheathing her sword. She bowed to Kaji, then to Lilith, and after the bows were returned, she practically fled from the room, leaving the other two members of the Thirteen alone and looking quite amused.
"Cho is so hopelessly in love with that boy, I wonder if she even realizes it." Lilith laughed. "She didn't even stop to wonder why I had asked for her help for something so trivial."
Kaji returned his katana into his scabbard with a soft metallic clink and then slung it over his shoulder. He faced his Commander, a small smile on his face. "Why are you here, Lilith? You didn't come here to get Cho's help and I know you're not here to duel."
The Commander of the Thirteen laughed again, a soft melodious sound that reverberated throughout the empty room. "You haven't defeated me since I trained under you at school, Kaji."
She looked at Kaji, curious as to his reaction. Kaji, or Kaji the Blade as was official title of the Thirteen, was young, perhaps only a few years older than Lilith, with hair that could only be described as unique. White as freshly fallen snow, it spiked out erratically as if a constant current of electricity flowed through each tendril, keeping it pointy and erect.
"True," white-haired swordsman reluctantly admitted with a shrug. "But then again, prodigies trained by prodigies should be difficult to defeat. If not, then what could be said about their instructors, Miss Adams?"
Lilith blushed at the sound of her surname, a name she had not used since her girlhood days as a student at Hogwarts. It was there that she had trained under the tutelage of Kaji, a young, foreign instructor from Japan who had come one summer during her sixth year to impart his knowledge about the unique aspects of Asian magic. One of them had been dueling using magically augmented muggle weaponry, an art that has fascinated Lilith and one which she quickly mastered. By the end of the summer, after countless hours of single minded practice, Lilith had done the impossible and defeated her mentor.
But that was then and this was now. It had been four years now since she had graduated from Hogwarts, and almost as long since she had entered into the service of the Council of the Elders. Four years ago she had abandoned her old life to embrace the will of the Council and allow herself to be transformed into Lilith the Prophet. Family, friends, memories of her past -all were sacrificed to become a member of the Thirteen.
They all had left something behind.
"Enough, Kaji." Lilith said irritably, breaking out her brief reverie. Kaji was right. She had come here for an important reason. "I came here to talk to you about Harry and his team."
Kaji nodded. "I guessed as much."
"I was hoping this day wouldn't come, but Harry's mistake reveals that he and his team are not invincible. The Elders will not be so convinced to send him out again so soon."
"You've been pushing his team too hard."
"I've been pushing your team just as hard, Kaji." Lilith replied. "Team Ravenclaw is the only team aside from Gryffindor I can trust to send out without risking the populace. Voldemort and his Slytherins have already proven that they're willing to kill or torture muggles for fun whenever they get half the chance, and Team Hufflepuff isn't that much better."
The white-haired swordsman listened to all of this, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What concerns me, Lilith, is that you're more worried about the damage the Slytherin are having on muggles instead of your career."
"Muggles are humans too!" Lilith snapped angrily. "We have been entrusted this power to rid the world of the corrupt and evil, Kaji, not to terrorize the innocent and defenseless."
Kaji shook his head sadly. "You're standing awfully alone on this, Lilith. You know most of the magical community doesn't given a damn one way or the other about muggles. You can pretend all you want that you keep sending teams Ravenclaw and Gryffindor because of their success rate, but the Elders know you're doing it just to protect the muggles and I'm sure they do not approve."
"I know," admitted Lilith woefully. "What do you think I should do?"
Walking over to his former student, Kaji put his hand gently on her shoulder. Lilith looked at him, finding comfort in his touch. Though she knew he was only a few years older, Kaji had always seemed like an eternal wellspring of knowledge, an omniscient cornerstone in her life that would never fail her. She might have surpassed him in skill with the blade years ago, but never for a moment did she think there was nothing more her former instructor could teach her.
"I'm afraid this is your decision to make, Commander." He told her.
"Don't mock me!" yelled Lilith exasperatedly, pushing Kaji away. "I need your help! Please!"
Suddenly, Kaji's pleasant demeanor faded. His eyes narrowed, and his voice became cold and serious. "Lilith, you were chosen to be the leader of the Thirteen for a reason." He brushed past his Commander and started to leave the room, his boots echoing ominously in the silence. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Lilith.
"Never forget that."
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Author's Notes:
I received a review a couple days ago from soliel.lune that jarred me from my hiatus from Harry Potter fanfiction. I actually had the second half of this chapter done months ago, but I never got around to finishing it. I kind of lost interest in writing Harry Potter fanfiction, and my resolve in continuing this story faltered. I apologize to all the fans that have been waiting for an update for this -the review I got was a reminder that people are still reading and waiting for me to keep writing, and this inspired me to continue it. Thanks.
I have been busy with my writing over the last few months though. If you're a fan of the anime Naruto I've been working on my story "A Ninja's Guide to Surviving High School" for a while. It's nine chapters in and I'm going to split my time between that and "VII". If you're interested, check it out on Fanfiction.net through my profile here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/42121/
Thanks for reading, and of course, reviews always make me write faster!
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