Part 1 - All Your Fault

When I was only a few months old, my father left. Mom didn't like to talk about it very much, which was fine with me. Any man who would do something like that isn't worth talking about, or even remembering, so we didn't do either.

Mom and me were fine by ourselves. We got along great, and were each other's best friends. She had a good job, working as a cursebreaker with Gringotts, and I got to travel all around the world with her. I'd been on every continent by the time I was four, and was fluent in most languages by the time I was ten. I loved my life.

I was good kid. I tried my hardest to do well in school and stay out of trouble. Mom home schooled me, so it's not like I had much of a desire to prank the teacher, or anything like that, and I had enough adventure and excitement just from living the life I did. There was never any need for me to seek out trouble, because it always in abundance.

Anyways, nothing ever found us that Mom couldn't handle. She was brave, and strong, and there was never a single moment in all of our travels that I can ever remember having been truly afraid. My mom loved me, and I knew she would never let me be harmed.

Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, July 28th, Mom got contracted out to a dig site near Zurich, a Neolithic burial ground protected by ancient curses. At that time, I was apprenticing with her to become a cursebreaker myself, so, naturally, I got to tag along.

It was a trap. The second we arrived we were ambushed, and, since it was an isolated, rural site, there was no hope for help, or escape.

I'm not exactly sure how long they held us. Days and nights kind of faded into each other, but it was a a fucking eternity. The thing I remember most is the screams.

None of the men, who always covered their faces with black bandanas, ever laid a hand on me unless it was to gently move me, bound and gagged, to a conveniently out of the way corner, but they tortured my mother, and I saw the whole thing, watched and listened while they took turns cruicioing her, and beating her, and raping her, and promising that it would all stop if she would just tell them where Remus Lupin was. She never did, because she didn't know.

I cried and tried to tell them that, just tried to make them understand. I had never even heard that name before, and she had never once mentioned it during all my eighteen years of life, but in the end it didn't matter. My mother's strong, proud body gave out.

It was raining the night they put her in the shallow grave, the hole a dense, soupy mud pit by the time they kicked her body in. Then they threw me in on top of her. I was buried alive with murdered mother, and suffocated on a vile mixture of blood, and mud, and pure summer rain.

Through some twisted miracle, I survived.

I woke up in a stark white hospital room with no idea how I had gotten there. I should've been dead. My mom was dead. The sun was shining in through an open window as a pair of songbirds happily chirped on a tree branch just outside. I totally lost it, immediately bursting into tears. I cried for hours, mourning my mother and cursing the world that would allow her suffer like she did.

Then I got angry, and I swore revenge on those responsible. Even if it killed me in the end, even if I had to sell my soul, I would make sure that the people who were the cause of my mother's torture and death would be punished. I would kill them all with my bare hands.

I ran from the hospital before anyone came in to talk to me. I didn't want to hear it, and had a mission to do. I raided Mom's bank accounts for money, took passports and travel papers, and set to work.

It may seem a little bit crazy that a teenage girl traveled the world all by herself for over two years, tracking down and slaughtering members of a highly trained mercenary group, but I was more than a little bit crazy with grief and anger, and it turned out not to be that hard. When they realized who was killing them, the morons mostly came to me.

And I decimated them, the fact that they were an elite branch of Death Eaters who called themselves the Moros, their purpose information gathering by torture techniques and ruthless murder, barely even registered as I slit throat after throat. I had more than one close call where I thought I had finally met my match, but I always came through in the end. I always got my man, and, as the years went on, I just got better at it.

After I killed the last one, still with no idea as to why they came after my mom to begin with, I didn't feel at all satisfied.

That name kept haunting me, the one they asked her about. None of the men had given me a single piece of information about Remus Lupin as I killed them, but I knew that it was his fault. Whatever he did, if they hadn't been looking for him my mom would still be alive.

I became fixated on making him pay as well.

He took a lot longer to track down than the mercenaries had, but, after six months of searching and a sizeable bribe, I finally had a picture of my target, and an address at which he could be found.

Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was a rundown piece of crap, despite the complicated charms hiding it, and I snuck in through the front door at around three o'clock in the morning, carefully defusing several security alarms. After silently and stealthily searching the bottom floor and finding nothing, I crept upstairs through the pitch darkness.

The old house was creaky, every squeak or groan of the floorboards as I walked across them had me jumping into the shadows, watching with nervous eyes to make sure no one had heard before resuming my search.

I went into every room, finding lots of kids sleeping soundly in their beds, a snuggling couple or two, and even a snoring hippogriff. The search was just starting to get frustrating when I finally found him.

He was unmistakably Remus Lupin. Sandy brown hair streaked with gray and spread out on his pillow, scars all across his face and bare chest, and an expression of anguish even in his sleep were all giveaways, and he matched the photo I had perfectly. I smiled, almost relieved that this would all be over now, that this would be my last revenge killing, that maybe I could finally find some peace. The knife was suddenly in my hand, and I raised it up high, not making any noise at all as I prepared myself to bring it down into his heart.

I barely heard the door opening behind me, or a sleepy grunt of, "Moony, heard someone skulking about. You being an insomnamom... insomnium... you not sleeping again?"

"Die," I whispered, and the sleeping man's eyes shot open as I plunged the knife down.

Unfortunately, he was faster than I thought, grabbing my wrist before I could stab him, falling out of bed as he wrestled me to the floor and took my weapon. The voice from the doorway intervened as well, cursing wildly as he shouted into the hallway about an intruder, raising an alarm and bringing everyone else from their beds.

The lights came on, and I was pinned to the ground, Remus panting hard and sitting on me, keeping both my arms up over my head. He was certainly a lot stronger than he looked.

"Is it a spy!" I heard someone gasp as I thrashed about, desperate to get free and kill the man on top of me. "GET OFF!" I demanded, "GET THE FUCK OFF ME! YOU HAVE TO DIE YOU BASTARD! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"L-Leila?" Remus asked, sounding breathless, and almost happy. It made me stop, glowering up at him as I spat, "How the hell do you know my name!"

The room was oddly silent as the man stuttered, "I-I... Y-You... M-My..."

Before he could finish the thought, I realized that his surprise had made his grip on me loosen, and I took advantage of that, bucking him off me with a feral battle cry. Chaos, and shouting, and a pretty intense struggle came next, but I regained my knife from the floor, and, straddling him, managed to try once more to kill Remus. Unfortunately, I barely managed to put a shallow scratch across his throat before I was hit with a stunner right between my shoulder blades. I froze, suddenly unable to draw air into my lungs, and the only thing I can remember after that is blackness.


The room I woke up in was very dim. A faint glow from behind thin curtains told me that it was daytime, but, going by the way I felt, it should've been two in the morning. My whole body ached, and I barely had the energy to remember what had happened to me.

But, very quickly, I did, and shot up from the warm bed I had been tucked into, immediately scrambling for an escape route.

The windows were sealed shut and warded, as was the door, and my knives and wand were gone. Someone had taken my clothes, too, switching them for a set of baggy, red flannel pajamas. I was pissed.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" I shouted, kicking, punching, and throwing myself against the door in an effort to beat it down, "OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW! LET ME OUT YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"

By the time someone actually did come to let me out, probably about an hour later, I was too caught up in my tirade to actually notice that the door was opening, and ended up falling right into a hard body.

"Hello there," A deep male voice chuckled as I was hugged in a pair of strong arms, "If I had known you were so eager to meet me I would've come up and introduced myself sooner."

"GET OFF!" Was my instantaneous reaction, shoving him away from me and taking a wild roundhouse punch at his head. It wasn't that hard to hit, seeing that it was literally a bright red target.

He crumbled to the floor, knocked out cold, and I barely passed a fleeting glance over his long red hair and scarred face before turning and running down the hallway, hell bent on an escape.

I managed to find a stairway that led me down into the kitchen, and grabbed a big, sharp steak knife before continuing through the house, prepared to attack anyone I came across. Fortunately, I remained undetected, silently slinking past the one room where all the people in the house seemed to be gathered, arguing heatedly over a subject that I could only assume was me. Remus was in there, slouched in a corner, his head in his hands as a tall man with long, graying black hair and ragged features spoke softly to him.

I wanted nothing more than to kill Remus, but it would've been too risky at the moment. Now that I knew what he looked like and where to find him, my best bet was to run now, and come back later to finish him off. So that's what I did, or, at least, tried to do. I never quite made it that far.

In the entryway, not even three feet from the door and freedom, something started screeching obscenities behind me. I turned, and it was an ugly as hell portrait of some old woman, an even uglier house-elf grinning wickedly at me with the curtain that had been covering the hideous canvas clutched in its knobbed hands. The stupid thing did it on purpose.

"Why you little..." I grumbled as it cackled to itself and ran from the room, leaving me to deal with the larger than life hag who was shrieking, "MUDBLOODS! HALF-BLOODS! TRAITORS! ABOMINATIONS! LEAVE THIS PLACE! YOU BEFOUL THE HOME OF MY ANCESTORS!"

My mom was a half-blood. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Was my immediate reply, loud enough to drown her out as I attacked in a blinding rage. Before I really knew what was happening, the painting was shredded, hanging in silent tatters from the frame.

I was breathing really hard by the time it was over, the knife clutched in my white-knuckled hand, my whole body shaking. Just maiming it didn't seem like enough. I wanted to set fire to the remains of that evil portrait, and then I wanted to spit on the ashes.

But I didn't have the time because a voice was cleared loudly behind me, and I turned to find that my escape route was cut off by Remus and the man with the black and gray hair, who was surprisingly tall, though painfully skinny.

It didn't matter. I growled, and launched myself right at Remus. He looked old, so I didn't think he stood a chance.

Unfortunately, I was surprised once again by his speed and strength, and ended up getting slammed and pinned up against the wall. He had a dead serious expression on his face as he knocked the knife out of my hand, but his friend laughed, commenting, "Feisty little thing." I growled, and he continued by pinching my cheek and chuckling, "I'm so excited! Little Leila's come home! I finally have both my godchildren back!"

"SHUT UP, FREAK!" Was my response as I bucked against Remus, more pissed about the fact that his idiot friend was teasing me than I was about being prevented from killing him.

"Hey!" The black and gray haired man shouted indignantly, "Moony! Your daughter told me to shut up! And called me a freak! You should so ground her!"

"If I was going to ground her for anything, Padfoot," Remus responded flatly as I continued to bite, and kick, and scratch, and yell, "It would be trying to murder me, not telling you what we're all thinking." That earned a nervous laugh from the group that had gathered around us as the other man hmph-ed, and pouted like a child.

The whole 'daughter' comment hadn't really meant anything to me, and I was still focused on getting loose and killing Remus. The redhead I had punched out upstairs chose that moment to stumble into the room, groaning and rubbing the side of his heavily scarred face as he grumbled swear words under his breath.

I heard a small voice yell, "Daddy!" And a cute, freckly little girl, probably two-years-old, at most, with pale blue eyes and long, almost glowing red-gold hair pushed her way through the crowd, immediately jumping into the scarred redhead's arms, hugging him tightly around the neck and tenderly stroking his cheek as she asked softly, "Are you ok, Daddy? Did you get a booboo?"

He returned a loving, utterly devoted smile, cradling her against himself as he soothed, "Ya, I did. Will you kiss it and make it better, my little Roo?"

"'Course, Daddy," She responded, shooting him a heart-melting grin before grasping his head firmly in both her tiny hands and giving him a big, wet smooch on the cheek.

My hysterical struggle for freedom died down a bit, and I spent a few moments just glaring at the pair, extremely angry at them for some irrational reason.

"Alright, mate?" Remus' grinning friend asked the man on the stairs. The redhead turned, smiling slightly as he nodded in my direction and reported, "Ya. 'M fine. The little hellcat over there punched me. Knocked me out cold, and- OW!"

He was cut off by the little girl in his arms smacking him sharply in the side of his face. Confused, he rubbed at the sore spot as the girl scowled at him and corrected, "Granny says you shouldn't call names! It's not nice!"

"Um... sorry, love..." He responded, sounding slightly in awe that she just disciplined him. It was oddly cute.

"FUCKING LET ME GO, YOU SON OF A BITCH! LET ME GO! I'M GONNA KILL YOU! YOU HAVE TO DIE, YOU USELESS, STUPID PIECE OF SHIT! IT'S YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD!" I was getting sick of being pinned again, and used the opportunity to voice my displeasure once more.

The little girl gasped, covering her ears as she shouted, "Daddy! Make her stop! She's gonna get in trouble! She doesn't know the rules!" I just screamed louder, not doing anything more than shrieking at the top of my lungs, but I didn't care. It was better than nothing.

That's when someone decided to hit me with a silencio and an imobulus, and I found myself unable to move or speak, not to mention severely pissed.

With a relieved sigh, Remus loosened his grip, gently picking up my slight body and carrying me past the group of assembled people and into a dingy little sitting room with rich wood paneling on the walls. After laying me gently on a couch that was a deep shade of green, he sat down across from me and let his head drop into his hands, groaning loudly.

The group gathered round, and I used the opportunity to take in the fact that they were mostly more redheads, with a bushy-haired brunette, a black-haired boy, and a young woman with a shocking pink pixie cut thrown in for good measure. I instantly hated them all, but, strangely, couldn't seem to read their reactions to me. Most people would be scared or angry, but they just seemed confused, and a little bit worried.

"LEEEEIIII-LAAAAA!" A sing-songy voice chimed right before I was sat on by the black and gray haired, annoying, goofy friend of Remus'. I wanted to tell him to get his bony behind off of me, but couldn't, so I settled for a glare as he grinned down at me and reported, "Wow! I remember you when you were just a teeny little thing! How did you get so big all of a sudden!"

"She's nineteen, mate," Remus grumbled, his voice pained, "Almost twenty. It's not that all of a sudden." The other man shrugged, his attitude reminding me of a teenage boy's even though he looked like he was in his forties or fifties, "Still... I remember her as a screaming little ball of goo from right after Sid had her. This big, grown-up Leila is kinda weird-"

"SHUT UP ABOUT MY MOM!" I screamed, causing everyone in the room, including myself, to jump. Throwing off a silencio is a difficult, nearly impossible thing to do, but I guess I was really just that mad about some bastard friend of Remus Lupin's talking about my mom. He didn't know her, and he didn't have the right!

"Whoa..." One of the redheads, a twin, I realized, muttered, sounding rather impressed. His identical brother added, "Wicked..."

"Let me up right now!" I demanded, hoping that my luck in throwing off curses would work on the one that had me immobilized as well. It didn't.

"Leila, please calm down and let me talk to you," Remus begged, sounding ecstatic, yet close to tears, "I... You're finally back, and I just want to explain everything-"

"Explain what!" I shrieked in reply, slowly starting to grow very agitated by not being able to move. It felt sickeningly similar to when those men buried me alive, and I didn't like it at all, "That you're a moron, and whatever stupid, petty thing you did to piss off the Death Eaters got my mom killed! Thanks, already figured that one out on my own! You're gonna pay for what happened to her! I don't care if it takes the rest of my life, or if I have to die to pull it off, but I'm gonna make you pay!"

The room was very, very quiet for quite some time. I think I might've scared the poor dullards, but didn't care. Remus was going to understand exactly how much pain he put my family through, and then he was going to die slowly, and at my hands.

But, at that moment, I had bigger problems. The curse was really starting to freak me out, and I had begun sweating, and shaking, and having trouble breathing. "You... you gotta take this curse off me..." I told them, closing my eyes, trying to get the memories of slowly suffocating on my mom's blood to stop flooding every single one of my senses. I could smell it, and taste it, feel it soaking into my clothes and being forced into my pores as more wet earth was piled into the grave. I was going to throw up, "Take it off NOW!"

"Say please!" The little girl scolded haughtily from her father's arms. I groaned, hyperventilating, head spinning, pleading breathlessly, "P-Please..."

I'm not quite sure what happened next, because that's when my traitorous mind decided it had had enough, and shut itself down.


It was dark again when I woke up, the dim glow from behind the curtains replaced by a slight shimmer of moonlight. I was in the same room as the first time, but felt three times worse. And I also wasn't alone.

"Hi," It was Remus, calmly sitting right beside my bed, wearing an enigmatic little forced smile. I glared and spat sharply, "What the fuck do you want!"

The smile disappeared, and he looked hurt beyond all comprehension. I felt rather proud of myself, even though I didn't understand why the hell the comment would affect him so much. He hung his head, mumbling broken-heartedly, "I told you before, I just want to talk."

"Shove it," I told him, squirming slightly to realize that the curse had been taken off me. "Excellent," I thought, before spitting cruelly, "The only thing I want to hear from your mouth are pleas for mercy while I rip your intestines out your arse!"

And then I attacked him. Before he even had a chance to wince at the comment, I leapt out of bed and threw myself right at him, knocking him and his chair to the ground as I just started punching. It might not have been as satisfying as slicing him up, but without a knife it was the best thing I could come up with. And it was kind of nice to feel his nose break under my fists.

"Leila!" He shouted, not hitting me back, but trying to grab my arms and stop me from hitting him, "LEILA! STOP IT! I'M YOUR FATHER!"

My arm froze on the back swing, and my mouth dropped. I didn't want to believe it for even a second, but, gazing down into his bleeding, scarred face, noticing how some of the streaks of sandy blonde left amongst the gray of his hair match the shade that hung from my head, how his bone structure was so similar to mine, how the yellowy-amber eyes gazing pleadingly up at me were almost identical to my own, I knew it was true.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" Even I was surprised by the fury in my voice as I landed a few more punches on his already bloody face, "YOU ASSEHOLE! YOU COWARD! YOU LEFT US! YOU LEFT US, AND YOU GOT HER KILLED! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

It felt like my heart was going to rip in half, I was screaming, and punching, and, though I didn't realize it until he managed to wrestle me onto my back and pin me to the floor, I was crying. Once he had me held down, it turned into full on angry sobbing, and I shouted up into his face, "IT SHOULD'VE BEEN YOU! THEY SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU! MY MOM IS DEAD, AND YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, AND IT'S NOT FAIR! I WANT HER BACK! BRING HER BACK!"

He turned his face away as I broke down, unable to look me in the eye any longer as he whispered sincerely, "I would if I could... I would trade places with her if I could, but I can't..."

"It's all your fault," I told him flatly, my voice cracking, laced with rage as angry tears dripped from the corners of my eyes, streaking through the dirt on my tanned cheeks. He sighed, "I know."

"I hate you," I continued, venom lacing every syllable as I struggled halfheartedly to get my wrists out of his grip. Again, he sighed, "I know."

"Is everything alright in here?" The both of us looked up when the door opened to reveal a fairly short, skinny young man with thick black glasses and longish, sleep-tousled black hair. He was shirtless, red and green flannel pajama pants hanging off rather pronounced hip bones and hollow abs. When he saw the position we were in, Remus bleeding and trying to restrain me, a wand appeared in his hand so fast that I didn't even see where he'd pulled it from. Probably out his arse, the little fruit... His expression instantly went from slightly groggy to fierce, and he demanded, "What's going on!"

"Everything's fine, Harry," Remus sighed tiredly, his hold on my arms loosening slightly as he turned to address me, "Can I let you up now?"

"You can," I answered, sniffling but trying not to, "Won't guarantee that you'll live to regret it though."

The young man, Harry, apparently, pointed his wand at me, "Don't try anything." Remus sighed again, "Harry, please, I can handle her. She's just angry."

"DAMN RIGHT I'M ANGRY, YOU TWAT!" I shrieked back, kicking beneath him, yelling loud enough to wake the whole damn house, "I DON'T THINK ANGRY QUITE COVERS IT! TRY HOMICIDALLY INCLINED! NO, APPARENTLY PATRICIDALLY INCLINED!"

"Remus..." Harry warned, seeming eager to hex me, his wand hand twitching. The old man on top of me merely shook his head, then let me go.

I jumped to my feet in an instant, and kicked Remus hard in the temple. Then Harry jinxed me, and I hit the floor really hard, the wind knocked out of me as I found myself suffering from a jelly-legs. At least I could still move my arms.

"Little fucker!" I swore at him, dragging my body into a corner as he advanced on me. Remus stopped him, standing to his feet and placing a hand on the boy's bony shoulder. For just being punched and kicked in the head, the old man looked surprisingly alert. Damn resilient bastard...

"It's alright, Harry," He said sadly, "You can go back to bed now."

"But, Remus!" He argued, seeming scandalized, "She just said she wants to kill you! I can't leave you alone with her!"

The girl with the bushy brown hair, and one of the taller redheads chose that moment to wander into the room, both yawning and stretching. "Who wants to kill Remus?" The girl inquired tiredly, leaning against the boy's bare chest. He put his arm around her, affectionately petting her hair as he mumbled, "I think probably his psycho daughter."

"I am not his daughter!" I hissed through clenched teeth, glaring at Remus as I added, "That man is nothing but a sperm donor to me! A soon to be dead sperm donor!"

The redhead giggled deliriously, "Hehe, sperm..." The girl elbowed him lightly in the gut, rolling her half-closed eyes at his childishness. I just continued to glare.

"Ouch... Right, totally not funny," The redhead agreed, rubbing his ribs, yawning, then glancing over at me and waving as he greeted brightly, "Hullo. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. Nice to meet you, um... Remus' killer child."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but decided I'd bite, responding, "It's Leila, Leila Kione."

"Pretty name," He said, a slightly goofy, extremely crooked grin crossing his face, making his long nose wrinkle at the bridge, and crinkles appear at the corners of his bright blue eyes. It was hard to not to smirk in reply, and I shot back a curt, "Thanks. Yours sucks."

He seemed confused, but, nonetheless, continued by nodding to the brunette under his arm, saying, "This is Hermione Granger." The girl waved nervously before Ron went on to point at the other boy in the room, "And that's Harry Potter."

"Oh," I said, suddenly remembering the name. It's a little hard not to, "Ya, scarfaced messiah. 'Sup?"

He merely scowled, which was kind of hilarious, and just made my smirk widen.

"Not that I don't enjoy the death glare," I shot back, "But do you mind taking this jinx off me?"

"Why should I?" Harry countered bitterly, folding his arms across his nearly concave chest, "You're just gonna try to kill Remus again!"

"Well... Ya..." I responded, rolling my eyes, "Good work, Captain State-the-Obvious! The universe is once again safe thanks to your outstanding powers of deduction!"

Remus, with his nose still bleeding and his eye beginning to bruise and swell, sighed heavily, walking towards me as he scolded, "It'll be fine, Harry. We'll have to settle this in the morning." Without another word, he picked me up from the ground, holding me tight despite the fact that I started punching at him the moment he touched me, and gently laid me back into the bed. He tucked me in tenderly, even though I tried to scratch his eyes out, then turned, and insistently prodded the three young people out of the room.

"HEY!" I shouted, indignant over being left like that, "GET BACK HERE! TAKE THIS JINX OFF ME RIGHT NOW!"

He smiled softly over his shoulder, "It'll wear off in a few hours, and I'll be back in the morning to let you out. Sleep sweet."

"WHAT!" I demanded as he shut the door behind himself. Then I heard him place a few wards on the outside, followed by a silencer, and that was it. I was locked in, and no one could hear me scream.

I did anyways. I screamed until I was hoarse and exhausted, until I was in tears from the burning in my throat and the utter frustration of not being able to finish what I'd gone there to do in the first place. I fell asleep just as the glow from the sun came back to the closed curtains of my prison cell.


"She's still asleep?"

"I know, even after the twins had a go at getting her up. Poor thing must be totally wiped out."

"Attempted murder will do that to a person."

"Shut up, Potty. You don't know anything about her. Maybe she has a damned good reason for wanting to kill the Big Bad Wolf."

"Like what, Mal-ferret!"

"Being a dead-beat dad not good enough for you?"

"That's not a reason to kill him! Besides, Remus isn't a deadbeat! It has to be something else!"

"If you're so curious, why don't you ask instead of just jumping to nefarious conclusions about her personality? Oh, wait, I forgot that's a specialty of yours."

"Shut up! I would, if she would get her lazy arse up out of bed!"

"Harry, Draco, for Merlin's sake, give it a rest! If we don't wake her, everyone's going to have to sit through another meal with my mum fretting about her not eating, so just stop fighting and help me!"

My head felt like an overfilled balloon when I woke up the third time. The room was too bright, and too noisy, and I wanted to tell whoever the hell was in there to bugger the fuck off, but my throat felt like I'd done beer bongs with hydrochloric acid. It made me recall the hours I'd spent screaming earlier, which just pissed me off.

"Go away," I groaned, my voice a gravely croak as I rolled away from the noises and curled into the heavy blankets on the bed. Another attempt at Remus' life wasn't in me at the moment, and I just wanted to sleep off my Feellikecrapitis.

"Sleeping Beauty awakens!" One of the voices chuckled just before the blankets were ripped off my body. I hissed when the cold air hit me, but kept my eyes stubbornly closed and hugged my long, flannel-clad legs to my chest. "Come on, Princess," The voice urged, sounding like its owner was leaning across me and shouting in my ear, "Up and at 'em! There's lots and lots of food downstairs, and I'm sure you're hungry!"

"Fuck off," I gritted in reply, barely cracking one eye open to realize that the man harassing me was none other than the redhead I'd punched the other day. Also present was the almighty master of the universe himself, Harry Potter, and some wimpy little kid who looked like he'd been in a fight with a bottle of bleach... and gotten his arse severely kicked.

The redhead smiled, a shiny bit of scar tissue that cut from above his right eye, through both his lips, to his chin pulling taut, "Come on. My mum is an excellent cook, and everyone is really excited about meeting you properly!"

I gave him a groan-growl, sneering before dragging myself up out of the bed. I stood in the back corner of the room, as far as the three men as I could get. Crossing my arms over my chest, I snarled, "I'm up. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Bleach-boy responded haughtily, a smirk crossing his aristocratic features, the expression so annoying that my hands literally itched to slap it off him. Remus may have been the only person I wanted to kill, but I was quickly getting a very strong urge to maim quite of few of his moronic friends as well.

"Yes, we are happy," The redhead insisted, glaring at bleach-boy before turning back to me and giving another scar-tissue smile before taking a few steps across the room and offering his hand, "Hi. I'm Bill Weasley."

I just glared at his hand, not taking it and noting that he had scars there as well. I mused that something must've really chewed this guy up and spit him out. "Great," I shot back, "I'm Leila. Can you show me the way out of here?"

"Ha, not a chance," Bleach-boy chuckled. I narrowed my eyes at him, glaring briefly before fighting the pain in my throat to comment, "So you weirdoes are gonna keep me prisoner? That's, like, kidnapping."

Bill chuckled, "Actually, we prefer to think of it as harboring a fugitive. You're pretty high up on the Ministry's most wanted list, you know?" I let a small smirk come back to my face, replying gruffly, "Maybe if they didn't spend so much time lookin' for lil' ole me, and more time on scum-of-the-earth, evil-as-can-be Death Eaters, there wouldn't be so many of them for me to kill."

"Too true," Bleach-boy remarked bluntly. He might've been a rude, snobby, little albino brat, but he agreed with me. I find that a redeeming quality.

"Anyways," Bill cut in, running his fingers through long, loose locks of red hair, seeming to subconsciously be using them to cover some of the more severe scars on his face, "I'm sure you must be hungry, so how about coming down for dinner?"

"Pass," I grunted curtly, then demanded, "By the way, which one of you perverted fuckers stole my clothes?"

"My mum," Bill scolded, frowning with displeasure, "Thought you'd be more comfortable in pajamas, so she used a spell to switch a spare pair of them for your clothes. She's washing and mending them for you."

"Ugh, great," I groaned. The comment didn't seem to make Bill, or Harry very happy, but it had bleach-boy grinning like it was Christmas morning. He crossed the room to stand beside Bill, not bothering to offer his hand, merely snatching mine, sweeping into a low bow and planting a kiss on the back of it before I had the chance to smack him, introducing, "Draco Malfoy. Pleased to make the acquaintance of a creature as lovely as yourself."

"Sweet Circe," I swore as I pulled my hand away and wiped it on my pants, "Give it a rest, slime-ball! You couldn't get me to touch your fun parts for all the gold in Gringotts, so don't even try!"

The other two men were instantly snickering at the look of insulted shock that passed over bleach-boy's features, and Harry commented, "Looks like she's got you pegged, Mal-ferret."

"Bite me, Potty," He grumbled in reply, turning and stomping from the room with his pitifully short tail between his legs. I was rather proud of myself.

"You seem to have a real way with people," Bill laughed, giving me a light shove towards the door, "We've got plenty more downstairs. You can play with them if you go down there."

"Well," I said, pushing Harry out of my way to grumpily march down the hallway, "I guess as long as you guys are keeping me prisoner, I've gotta have something to keep myself entertained."


When normal people find out that there's a homicidal maniac living in their house, they generally run away screaming, or, at the very least, try not to interact with her too much.

When the jackarse-flavored filling of Twelve Grimmauld Place found out about me, they, like not-so-bright chimps, were curious, and rather excited.

In fact, there was a bit of a melee at the dinner table over who would get to sit next to the 'crazy bird.' The redheaded twins, who introduced themselves as Freddy Mercury and Jorge the Wonderful before their mother smacked them both upside the head and said their names were Fred and George (prompting them to argue cheekily, 'That's what we said!), eventually won out, and sat on either side of me, staring with goofy grins on their identical faces.

"What!" I snapped dangerously after sitting through only about five minutes of it, glaring back and forth between the two. The one on my right smirked, asking, "You really trying to kill ole Lupin?"

I grunted and turned away in disgust, muttering, "Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots..."

"Dear, would you like some tea with honey?" The old woman, Mrs. Weasley, asked kindly as she bustled about the kitchen getting dinner ready, "Your voice sounds simply dreadful."

"I'm good, thanks," Was my curt response. She gave me tea with honey anyways, and, because it did smell kind of good, I drank it while silently glaring at everyone seated at the table.

There was the twins, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Bill, and his daughter, Arielle, who everyone called Roo for some odd reason, another redhead, named Ginny, the father of the Weasley clan, Arthur, and a nervous pink-haired chick, Tonks. Remus himself was conveniently absent, and all his little friends were looking at me like I was some kind of sideshow exhibit. It got very irritating.

"WHAT!" I snapped once more, not even getting them to jump in fright, and none of them answered me. Merlin, I was so furious!

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley brought out dinner, which was soup, which immediately made me roll my eyes and accuse, "Don't trust me with a knife and fork, eh?"

The group snickered quietly while Mrs. Weasley turned red, claiming, "I don't know what you're talking about, dear."

That earned another eye roll, and I teased, "Soup won't keep my homicidal side at bay, you know. I can kill Remus with a spoon as easily as with a knife. It's just a lot messier."

"Really?" The twin on my left inquired, sounding generally interested as he slurped loudly at his bowl of hearty chicken noodle. I began picking at my own meal, muttering, "Sure, done it before. Scoop out the eyes to slow 'em down, and then jam the handle in the brainstem." The room went oddly silent after that, and I spent the remainder of dinner smirking evilly to myself and staring down anyone who dared to meet my gaze.

After the soup, we had milkshakes for dessert. Apparently, my spoon comment had scared Mrs. Weasley, and she decided to eliminate utensils entirely. Bill was right, screwing with the people downstairs was kind of fun.

"DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD! WHICH OLD WITCH! THE WICKED WITCH! DING DONG, THE WICKED WITCH IS DEEAAAAD!" Remus' annoying prat of a friend came skipping and singing into the room just as I drank the last of my chocolate malt. Everyone else started rolling their eyes, and I heard Hermione grumble, "I knew I shouldn't have bought him that DVD player..."

The big, goofy guy was completely elated, and jumped on me the second he saw me, hugging me tight as he shouted, "YOU KILLED HER! SHE'S FINALLY GONE! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU!"

"UGH! GET OFF ME, FREAK!" I growled, immediately struggling to get out of his embrace, taking a few punches and kicks at him. He didn't seem to even notice, merely squeezing me tighter, and pissing me off more.

"Don't call names!" The redheaded toddler demanded crossly, sporting a gooey strawberry mustache that was dribbling down her unhappy pout and delicate little chin. "Oh, bite me, pint-size!" I bit back, "He is a freak! NOW LET GO!"

"Come on, Leila," The freak in question laughed, "This is time for celebration! All traces of my evil mother's rotten soul have been scoured from the earth! Stop being a sulky teenager for a few minutes and just be happy with me!"

"Yippee," I indulged sarcastically, still trying to shove him off, "Can I go yet?" He chuckled, annoyingly ruffling my hair, "You ain't goin' nowhere. We decided to keep you!"

"What?" I asked in a dangerous growl, finally managing to push the man off me, sending him sprawling onto the kitchen floor. I jumped to my feet, shouting, "You can't fucking keep me here! I played your twisted little game for long enough and now I'm leaving!"

"Leila! Wait! Hang on!" I heard Bill call after me as I sprinted out of the room, making a mad dash for the front door. This time, I actually made it outside, and thought I was finally free.

Unfortunately, at the end of the walkway, right where the stone path met the sidewalk, I met with a little complication: a large, completely solid wall of red energy that suddenly materialized out of thin air. I ran head first into it, and got a rather painful shock, then got thrown clear into the house.

Lying on my back in the entryway, sprawled across the hardwood floor like I was making snow angels, only one word came to mind: "Ow."

"Tried to warn you," Bill laughed as his face suddenly swam into my vision, a cheeky grin stretching his scars, "Remus spent all day warding you into the house. He's not gonna lose you again, like in Zurich."

That comment pissed me off, and, if I hadn't been having so much trouble with breathing normally, I would've gotten up and kicked Bill's arse. "What the... hell does... he know... about Zurich!" I managed to grit out through clenched and grinding teeth, furious that any of those people, let alone Remus, would actually claim to understand anything I went through in that city.

The redhead gave me a confused look, which just made his face twist into an odd mass of stretched scar-tissue as he knelt at my side and tried to help me up. "What does he know about it?" Bill muttered quietly, "He was there. Who did you think dug you out of that grave?"