Disclaimer: Abi gezunt dos leben ken men zikh ale mol nemen.

No Mercy

The night watch commander was hovering in the space between being asleep and awake when the alarm sounded. For a second, her jaw dropped and she stared at the device as her mind tried to catch up. That shouldn't be happening, she thought to herself. The alarm never rang anymore, not since the war, they didn't even use it when they were running drills.

"SHIT!" she screamed, springing to her feet. She hopped the first couple steps while her boots tied themselves, and her robes flew off the hook and into her waiting hands. "Talk to me!" her voice filled the squad room.

"Class six disturbance in an area that shouldn't have any magic users," her former training officer reported.

"Get a lock and have the duty squad on scene as soon as the portkeys are ready," she ordered. Oh please not again, she begged any entity that might be listening, we can't go through this again.

"Already done," the heavily scarred veteran Auror stated. "Also sounded the all call. Don't know what's happening, but I figured you'd want to land on it with both boots."


She could feel her face flush as she complied with the voice's instructions. It was awkward, as first times usually are, all knocking teeth and bumping foreheads. It was also wonderful. An idle part of her mind noted that her new . . . everything she supposed, was wearing a matching blush and smile.

'Tell him to collect anything he doesn't wish to leave behind forever, be sure to state that it doesn't matter who thinks they own it. It's all his now if he so desires.'

The boy hasted to comply with his instructions. First, grabbing the leather suitcase his uncle had used for business trips and emptying it out. Then filling it with an assortment of items he told her had once belonged to his grandparents. The silver set alone should have filled most of it, but for some reason he did not seem to run out of room.

'Tell him to hold you tight and to not let go of his valise.' It waited while she relayed the instructions. 'Do the same, hold him tight and be sure you have a firm grip on anything you don't wish to leave behind.'

"What now?" she asked.

'Tell him to think about the place he saw on the television through the crack last week, the beach south of here. Tell him to close his eyes and pretend he can appear there with you, tell him to believe it as hard as he can, to want it as much as he can.' The world shifted. 'Tell him that all he wants to do is want something hard enough, and it will happen.'


The first dozen Aurors arrived six minutes after the alarm rang. It was slow, much slower than would have been the case a few years earlier in the height of the bad times.

Several detection spells were cast and the results were not good. Magic had been done here. Old and powerful magic.

"Smith, on point. Stunners unless they give us a reason," the squad leader whispered. "We take the door on three. One. Two. Three-GO GO GO! AURORS! WANDS DOWN, HANDS UP!"

The sitting room stank of magic. The two cherries looked around nervously, too young to have had a part in the late unpleasantness, it was their first time doing something like this for real. Wet, inexperienced, new enough to be almost useless, even they could tell that this is where it had been done, whatever it was.

"What do we have," the squad leader demanded.

"I don't know," the forensic tech said, shaking her head. "I think we're going to need to bring the unspeakables in on this."

"And never get a single bloody answer," the squad leader said in disgust.

"I've got movement upstairs," one of the cherries said nervously.


"One warm, two cold," the Auror replied. "Warm's a child."

"Damn it! Cover the stairs, we'll-" he cut off when the charms they'd laid outside reported an incoming portkey. "Get ready, people."

"Watch commander coming from your rear!" a familiar voice called out.

"Come!" he called back. "Bottom floor's secure. Spells say we have two cold and a warm child upstairs," the squad leader reported.

"Flint!" the watch commander yelled over her shoulder. "Check it out."

"Got it, boss," the woman agreed. "Perks, take the lead."

"What else do you have for me?" She ignored the faint sound of someone getting messily sick coming from the second floor.

"Something happened down here that the unspeakables are going to have to sort out, boss."

"Top's secure," Flint called down. "It's messy, boss."

"How messy?"

"Someone introduced their insides to their outsides, boss. Two adults, a male and a female. Male's been messily gutted, female's been exsanguinated."

"Should never have complained that your reports aren't imaginative," the watch commander sighed. "Vamps?"

"Magic item would be my guess, boss."

"There's someone here that wants to talk to you, boss!" one of the Aurors on the perimeter called out.

"Who?" she called back.

"Me," the supreme mugwump himself answered.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said calmly. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"What happened here, Amelia?"

"Why is that any interest of yours, sir?" she asked, the barest hint of an edge in her tone.

The man's eyes closed as he visibly worked to calm himself. "This house is the current residence of a boy named Harry James-"

"Potter," she finished in horror.

"Yes," the old man agreed. "Again. What happened here, Amelia?"

"We don't know," she admitted. "Two dead upstairs. One survivor."

"Is it?" The Headmaster seemed almost afraid of getting an answer.

"Doubt it," she replied. "Seems like the sort of thing the team medic would notice during their exam."

"Best to be sure," the old man muttered to himself as he turned towards the stairs.

"There's more, Al-Albus," she said. "One of the adults was completely drained of blood and my forensic people report that some very powerful magic was worked down here. Magic they've never seen before."

"Have your people step back." The man's wand appeared and began waving furiously as he cast. "I need to be sure," Dumbledore said, stopping abruptly.

She was on his heels as he darted up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He hit the landing at a dead run and pushed past the Aurors to get a look at the lone survivor of the night's events. The energy seemed to drain from the old man and it was only the quick thinking of Auror Flint that kept him from making a close inspection of the floor.

"Is it?" she had to ask despite already knowing the answer from his reaction.

"No," the old man sobbed. "It's not Harry. I've failed."


Large rocks jutted from the sand and more formed a half circular wall enclosing the beach they arrived on.

"Where are we"

'Cornwall' The voice paused. 'There is a one room stone cottage five hundred paces past the white rock to your left. Go to it.'

Her left hand captured her new friend's right. "Come on, Harry."

'Ready your knife,' the voice ordered the second the cottage came into view. 'Knock three times on the door, count to ten, and then stab through the peephole.'

"Do they deserve it?"

'I cannot say,' the voice stated. 'I can say that while you are likely too old for her, he is not. She would butcher and eat him if you were not able to prevent it.'

"Stay back," she whispered to her new friend. "I'm going to kill another bad person."

"Do you need help?" Harry whispered back.

"No." She smiled at him and fought off the urge to give him another kiss. "Thanks though." The girl took a deep breath and complied with her instructions. Due to her strength and its sharpness, the blade easily slid through the thick wooden and on into the brain of her target.

'The door is not locked.'

"Come on, Harry."

The sweet scent of death and old blood hung in the air. The center of the room was filled with a large cauldron flanked by a blood stained butcher board. An assortment of knives, hooks, and tongs hung from the rafters. Bad things had happened here, the air was thick with it.

Unbidden, her eyes fell on the old fashioned icebox that seemed to dominate the far wall as her mind replayed the voice's warning.

'You do not have much time before they trace you,' the voice cautioned. 'There is a trunk at the foot of her bed, place a drop of the hag's blood on the lock.'

"What now?" she asked after complying with the instructions.

'Tell him to place his palm on the lock and state that he claims the trunk by the blood of its former owner.' The voice paused while they complied with its instructions. 'Take the books off the mantle and place them in the trunk, there is a small tin hidden beneath the the third stone to the right of the black stone to your left, knock three times on the third drawer then open the second. . ."

She didn't have time to think as she frantically complied with the voice's instructions.

'Tell him to close the trunk and to place the palm of his hand on the hasp and to imagine it all getting smaller.' To both children's delight, the full sized steamer trunk was now the size of a match box. 'Tell him to point at the large cauldron and to think of a fire springing up under it.' She quickly relayed the instructions. 'There is a potions rack in the cabinet to the left of the ice box, throw all of the first row and the left half of the third row into the cauldron. Tell him that there is a box under the bed and that he is to point at it and think of it disappearing and leaving what is in it behind.'

The boy hastened to comply with his orders and reported that it had left a statue, a stick, and a key behind.

"Ignore the stick!" Mercy shouted, relaying the voice's instructions. "Bring the key and the statue here." Her head cocked as she listened to the next set of instructions. With a blush she hugged him from behind and, making sure they both had a firm grip in the statue, activated the portkey and disappeared.


Thirty Aurors arrived on the beach and began leapfrogging up the trail left by their prey. There was a boy missing, a hero, every wand present was determined to save or avenge him and willing to do anything needed to accomplish that goal.

"Hag hut," the Auror on point reported to Bones as they surveyed the target.

"We're not going to bother with a perimeter, we're going to-"

"Shit! Outgoing portkey!" one of the Aurors screamed.

"Team one, go! Go! GO!" Amelia screamed, springing to her feet only to be thrown back a split second later when the little stone cottage disappeared in a ball of lightening covered flame.


They arrived in what looked like how she imagined a bank lobby would have looked a hundred years before. Thick oriental carpets covered perfectly cut black marble floors. One side of the room was completely taken up by a line of mahogany teller's cages, each staffed by an odd green creature.

'Go to the desk on the far left and state that you have a goblin item you wish to return.'

"Let's see it then," the odd creature demanded rudely. "Give it to me."

Ignoring the guards standing to either side of the teller and with a wide grin, Mercy drew the dagger and pinned the teller's hand to the desk. Her smile deepened as she placed her hand on the pommel and pushed it down.

Neither guard made a move, though she did note that each seemed to be doing its best to hold their mirth.

"Do you still want it?" she purred. A frown appeared on her face when there was no response. "Do we still need the statue that brought us here?"

'You do not.'

"Is it worth anything?"

'It is not.'

"Harry?" she turned back to the boy with a smile. "Would you mind giving me the statue? If you don't want it for anything, I mean," she added a touch shyly.

"Sure," he agreed.

"Thank you, Harry." In one smooth motion, she whipped around and delivered a shattering blow to the teller's side. "I'm talking to you! Do you still want the stupid knife or would you rather I take it back?"

"Take it?" the teller wheezed.

"You'll recognize that it belongs to me and my blood?" she asked, punctuating her question with a twist of the blade.


"Wonderful. We have only two more bits of business before we go," Mercy said with a smile. "The first is this key." She nodded for Harry to drop it on the table. "We would like to declare it and its contents to be ours by right of conquest. Unless you would like to object and try to take it for yourself."

"It's yours!" the teller squealed. The right guard lost its battle and began laughing openly, the left soon followed.

"We would like to do the same for any vaults belonging to or controlled by Tom Riddle also known as-" her eyebrows knit together. "Really? What a stupid name." The girl snorted. "Lord Voldemort."

"I can't-"

"Harry," Mercy interrupted. "Imagine you are a cup, now imagine it filling with water until it overflows and begins filling the room."

The two guards stopped laughing and stared in awe at the boy as magic filled the room.

"Thank you, Harry." The two shared a smile. "Satisfied."

"Yes," the teller whispered.

"I want all of that along with any vaults owned or controlled by Harry James Potter to be transferred to account number 314159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510582 Wegelin & Co. Zauberkunst."

The teller sagged against the counter as it went into shock due to blood loss and pain.

"Did you hear me?" Mercy demanded, raising her hand to deliver another blow with the statue.

"It will be done," an ancient looking creature promised as it approached the desk. "Pick him up and deliver him to the healers. Tell him I think it best if he return to driving carts until he's able to conduct a proper negotiation."

The two guards grabbed the fallen teller by the arms. "Take your dagger or I'll take his hand," the left guard stated. "Makes no difference to me."

Mercy pulled what was unquestionably her dagger out of the counter.

"Now. Time is money," the ancient creature stated. "Is there anything else Gringotts can do for either of you?"

"I would like to have a note delivered to Lucius Malfoy in precisely ten hours, seventeen minutes, and eight seconds. The note will state that the liability has been dealt with."

"Gringotts will be happy to assist you for-"

"Standard rates and you can remove it from the standard penalty owed to me for switching negotiators. I will wave the rest for the use of Gringotts secure transport to Wegelin & Co."

"Deal." The ancient creature smiled, showing a mouth full of teeth. "Watching you deal with my subordinate was a pleasure, a pity you weren't born a goblin."

She grinned back. "You wouldn't survive me."

"Ah, but what a way to go."


Conciseness came slowly and even then Amelia felt as if her brain had been wrapped in bourbon soaked wool.

"There's our girl," her former training officer said in a tone of deep satisfaction. "Nothing keeps you down, eh?"

"Wab, habbened?" she demanded, having trouble forcing her tongue to do as she willed.

"We're still trying to piece together the details. What we know is that the Hag's hut exploded, we know that the only reason we didn't lose the team was because you were half a second slow when you ordered us to take the door." The man grinned. "Which is something I'd normally address in further detail, but I think I can let it go this time seeing as how it saved my life." His smile disappeared. "We don't know it, but we strongly suspect that Harry Potter was used in a ritual that may or may not have resulted in his death."


"Muggle police say a witness took a man that called himself Lucius Malfoy to the neighborhood and that the man grew irate and began shooting a green roman candle at him when he couldn't direct him to the Dursley residence. Dumbledore says that having a muggle give him a ride may have gotten him past the ward line, if indeed Lucius is our boy."

"Tage 'im."

"Led two teams to do just that. He of course professed his innocence and ignorance until a secure courier from gringotts arrived with the message that the loose end had been taken care of." Moody's grin returned. "Leaked it to the Prophet myself along with the fact that he's being questioned in relation to the possible murder of 'the-boy-who-lived.' Minister threw him to the wolves after that, any trial held will be a formality."

Amelia closed her eyes, trying to fight through the potion induced fog that was making it so hard to think.


"Because the bastard is guilty as sin of something if not this and because he's the only one we've been able to pin anything on. Congratulations are in order, you're the next head of the department and the Minister saw fit to increase the budget another twenty percent so we can track down Lucius' confederates. Dumbledore's fighting to get more funding for a task force to find the kid, assuming he survived what happened to him."


"Wanted to be the one to tell you myself," Moody continued cheerfully. "I've got a dozen of our best guarding your door along with all the invalids fit enough to lift a wand. Don't want anything happening to you before you get the big chair."

"I want every bit of information you can wring out of Lucius bloody Malfoy's brain before he gets kissed or thrown through the veil or whatever it is the Minister is planning to do to him to appease the mob," Amelia ordered.

"Kissed then cremated then the dementor thrown through the veil while the ashes are vanished. The Minister wants to send a strong message that sacrificing the savior of our world in some dark ritual will not be tolerated."

AN: Possible plot points for the reviewers that had to know: Mercy is Mercy Graves from DC, an Amazon in some incarnations. The voice is something you'll have to figure out yourself, someone's already gotten really close. I will say the voice is completely amoral and set up the situation in the first scene to apply pressure on Mercy to make her desperate enough to go along with its plan. It's manipulative and will do anything to keep Harry Potter safe.

Not sure what else to do with this, have a half formed idea of them going against Superman. A powerful magic user and someone able to go toe to toe with him is a bad combo for the hero, and we all know that you have to introduce new heroes/villains with a fight. Not sure which they'd be, likely somewhere in between.

Typos by joeyzoot

Omake by Veive

Lucius Malfoy stretched luxuriously in his silk robe.

Lucius turned his overstuffed armchair to have a better view of the unconscious form of last night's entertainment still laying in his bed as the early morning light played delightfully across their naked forms.

It was a good morning to be him, Lucius mused as he sipped his per-breakfast whiskey, puffed contentedly on a fine Cuban cigar.

Lucius sighed to himself. Unfortunately like all good things it had to end.
He reached for his wand. "Obliviate, Obliviate, Confundo, Confundo, Dobby." He called with well practiced ease.

Lucius' servant appeared with the appropriate haste and silence.

"Yes master?" it asked.

Just then the window exploded and three red robed figures burst through.

"Ministry of magic! get on the ground." Someone yelled.

"What the-" Lucius exclaimed.

"He's got a wand! batuo!" One of the Aurors said. Lucius' world dissolved into pain as the auror standard physical pacification spell - otherwise known as 'troll taps' - took hold.

"Stop resisting! Electricus!" Another Auror shouted.

It was not a good morning to be Lucius Malfoy.


"Harry," Mercy interrupted. "Imagine you are a cup, now imagine it filling with water until it overflows and begins filling the room."

The two guards stopped laughing and stared in awe at the boy as magic filled the room.

"Thank you, Harry." The two shared a smile. "Satisfied."

"Yes," the teller whispered.(snip)

Omake II by Veive - just tying a few things together:

Junior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt got back to his desk after what his superiors told him would have been just another shift a few years before.

He was dead tired and doing his best to slog through the paperwork he was required to do before going home when a paper airplane landed on his desk.

Kingsley opened it with a sigh, and then frowned before he took the memo to find his shift supervisor, Master Auror Alistar Moody.

"Hey Boss?" He called as he rapped on the door to Moody's office.

"What d'ya need, Shack?" Moody asked gruffly, as he reclined in his office chair, his peg leg resting on an open desk drawer.

"Just got a report from the magic monitors about an anomaly at Gringotts." Shacklebolt said. "There isn't a procedure I know for stuff inside Gringotts, I didn't-"

Shacklebolt was interrupted by the loud thunk of Moody's peg leg hitting the ground as the man stood abruptly.

"Wait, they actually detected something from inside Gringotts' wards?" The old Auror asked in shock.

"Yeah, it looks like it was in the lobby." Kingsley nodded.

As Kingsley followed the old Auror back to the ready room he reflected on his shift, and the current call. As bad as the shift so far had been, nothing had made Alistar go pale or pray, he was doing both now. Kingsley hoped that wasn't and indication of things to come.