Disclaimer: I DON'T KNOW RUSSIAN! I AM SORRY! Also, I don't own either of the properties or characters in question. Nor do I get money from them.
Harry sauntered down the dank alley without a thought. He knew exactly where he was going and didn't bother to hide the multitudes of weapons that covered his person. It helped that he wasn't the only one around who was dressed that way. The muggle Underground had become something of a new home for him after the war. It was really the only place that would accept him anymore.
The second Wizarding War with Voldemort had not turned out how anyone had hoped it would. After his fourth year and the tournament that reincarnated the Dark Lord, war broke out again. This time it was worse than before, so much worse. There were massacres in the street before Dumbledore could get enough of a group together to provide resistance and by that time it was so out of hand that not much could be done besides damage control.
Harry thought back to the destroyed Diagon Alley the summer before fifth year. The broken windows and empty stores. Ollivanders and Gringotts were really the only two places that were still running and that wouldn't last long. Ollivanders had lasted until Christmas when the owner and his wand collection were captured by Death Eaters. Harry didn't like thinking about the man's screams that had invaded his dreams at night after that, needless to say he didn't last long. Gringotts had lasted into sixth year before they had shut their doors completely. The goblins had tried to stay neutral, but the severity of the war had caused them to close their doors just to survive. The economy had been destroyed, but no one had much time to think of that between all of the battles. Harry imagined that it was probably open now, but so many had died in the war he didn't know what capacity it would be acting as.
The deaths were numerous in the first year after his revival. Not many muggleborns had made it past that year alive. Hermione had been the first. She died during Christmas break trying to get her parents out of the country. Harry rubbed the first tick mark on his arm absentmindedly. That battle was the first time he had killed anyone. Marcus Flint was barely initiated when he killed Hermione. He had been laughing while he did it, which was the only thing that Harry really remembered before his vision had gone red. Afterward he had stared down at Flint's disfigured corpse and pleasure had curled in his belly. He liked killing that boy and anyone that saw him that day knew it. After that, everything changed. Harry's training had kicked up several notches and he became the weapon that the Light needed to win. He didn't hold back anymore.
He stared down at the tick marks that circled his arms, so much death and all of it at his hands. The curse that caused the tick marks had been placed on him after the war was over. The so called Light side had turned their back on their weapon, disgusted by him. Harry didn't really blame them, he was disgusted by himself sometimes. The curse forced him to show any that looked upon his body just how many people he had killed. It was supposed to be a type of punishment to force him to confront the deaths he had caused. The tick marks ran up both arms and onto his chest and shoulders. He could remember how almost all of them got placed and he didn't feel any remorse for the people he had killed. Most of the people he had killed deserved everything that he had given them and more. He proudly wore sleeveless shirts when he wanted to show off, but in the muggle world most people didn't have the slightest clue what they meant which took some of the fun out of it.
The amount of people that had died in the war had been staggering. Hermione had been the first friend to go, but not the last. Dean and Seamus had died that Christmas as well. Collin and his brother made it to February. Ginny made it to march. Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Cho Chang had all died in the final Quidditch match that Hogwarts had held. Fred and George Weasley had died next to their father and mother in the middle of summer after fifth year. Sirius had died right before September of that year. Dumbledore made it to the beginning of sixth year, before Snape killed him thereby cementing his loyalty to Voldemort's side. Harry didn't blame Snape, the man had saved thousands of lives by passing information to Harry secretly and spying on Voldemorts movements. Dumbledore was dead anyway do to a curse that he had accidentally touched, but had served the Light even in his death.
There were so many more that Harry didn't even know the names of. His fifth and sixth years had passed in a bloody hazy of battles and death tolls. There wasn't a day that went by where someone wasn't getting news of a death in the family. He remember after one particularly bad day McGonagall had read off a list of the dead in the middle of the Great Hall because there wasn't enough time to tell people individually. Harry had been through it all, in the middle of most of the battles that took place and all the casualties that they suffered, Harry had made sure that the Dark suffered even more.
Ron had changed after Hermione's death and had become Harry's partner during the battles. He was notorious for never having mercy on his enemies and for a time the two of them on the battlefield together were unstoppable. He had evolved into the Light's primary tactician after Dumbledore's death though and had been feared by everyone until his death in the Final Battle. In fact, the only Weasley that survived the war had been Bill, who escaped with his wife after his parents deaths. Remus had died as well in the Final Battle, leaving behind a pregnant Tonks. He had died taking Greyback's pack and the monster himself. Tonks had tried to convince Harry to become the godfather to the child, but after all of that bloodshed he had told Tonks that he wasn't really fit to be anyone's guardian.
Harry had taken on an even more notorious image in the war. He became so feared by the Death Eaters that they refused to call him by name, which was ironic justice as far as Harry was concerned seeing as they served someone who no one called by name. He had demolished camps and ripped people apart. He had let himself get consumed by the bloodlust of war and he didn't regret it. It was this bloodlust that allowed them to win the war, to beat Voldemort.
So, after all of that maybe it wasn't unreasonable that the Ministry of Magic didn't want anything to do with him. There wasn't enough wizards and witches left anymore to recover quickly. Too many of the younger generation had died to replace the lost population. The entire world was in a shambles. The other Wizarding governments finally decided to help after Harry had taken care of Voldemort for them, but even they didn't want him anywhere near their country. He had helped demolish an entire society, their fear was reasonable, Harry knew.
That didn't help Harry now though.
He hadn't had anywhere to turn after the war. The headquarters was destroyed. Hogwarts seemed hesitant to accept him at best and outright refused him at worst. Gringotts had still been shut down when Harry had been banished. Which meant that he was out of money and had no place to stay. What he did have were a set of skills that some people would pay a lot of money for, he discovered. He wasn't squeamish about killing people, he had done it too much to care. Killing for money seemed like a simple progression of that.
Which lead him to where he was now, in the middle of a dank alley walking to meet a new client. The Underground wasn't exactly what you would expect from hearing about it. The entire place worked off of connections and networks. Harry had gotten an 'invitation' off of a 'friend' after several hours of interrogation several months back. He had worked hard since then at building up a reputation and network. The place that he was headed now was somewhat of a well known marketplace. It was place where one could buy whatever sort of supplies they were looking for, short of enriched Uranium. Harry didn't like going there much, but didn't disagree that he fit there now.
At almost 18 years old he looked completely at home in one of the most lawless communities in the world.
This particular marketplace was in the middle of the slums of Moscow, Russia. Harry had been living nearby for a week and had been casing the joint to make sure he knew where the exits were in case he needed them. After the reputation he had earned he didn't believe it would be necessary, but for these types of meetings it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Harry slowed door once he reached the heavily guarded door to the end of the alley. He stared the guard in the eyes for a few seconds before the man moved to the side. Harry grinned at the man and patted him on the shoulder as he passed, ignoring the flinch that the guard gave. Harry imagined that the guard had met many people in the same business as Harry and it gave him a burst of pleasure at the fearful reaction he had gotten. He had worked hard to earn the reputation as someone not to fuck around with.
The marketplace was clean. That was really the first thing you would notice about the place. There were booths scattered about the room and alcoves placed everywhere. It was also fairly quiet. The transactions that took place here were the type that were whispered into ears so that no one else could hear. Every person in the room was carrying a weapon of some kind, it would be foolish not to. He saw shotguns and sniper rifles slung over shoulders. A few people where carrying swords strapped to their waists alongside handguns.
Harry's eyes slid over people, categorizing their faces with what they were selling. You could almost always tell what someone was selling by what they had on them at anytime. Mercenaries usually carried an armory of gun. Transporters travelled lightly, with one or two guns, but walked gracefully showing of their mastery of their bodies. Infiltrators also traveled lightly, but tended to blend into the rest of the crowd without problems. The merchants were easily spotted by their plush outfits and the cartel of thugs surrounding them. Assassins, like him, were actually the hardest to spot. They could look like anything and usually had a combination of talents that made them good at their jobs.
Harry filed the faces he passed into his mental folder of people. Occlumency had been one of the first skills he had acquired and his best one to date. It had saved his life more times than he could count and it never hurt to add to your profile of potential enemies. He was getting close to designated meeting spot when he noticed something strange.
There was a girl yelling at what were obviously hired thugs. The yelling wasn't uncommon, neither was the Russian that she was spewing at the men. It was more the fact that the person yelling at them was a girl, a female child. She looked close to 14 years old. It was unusual enough to see a woman around here, but an unattended child was almost unheard of. He slowed down at stared at them little longer.
"...Некомпетентные бабуины. Держу пари, вы даже собственные члены не найдете, настолько они малы." Harry almost sighed in disappointment. He couldn't understand the Russian girl and from the looks on the goons faces it was sure to be a good telling off.
He shook his head and continued on. He didn't have time to spy on fellow criminals, he had a meeting to get to. He smiled a little as he wandered off filing away the girl's face. She had a darkness in her that Harry could see from far away. Her hair was red, darker than Ginny's orange or his mother's strawberry, and it drew him to it. Harry tried to get rid of the thought. It wouldn't do to make attachments in the line of work that he was currently in and from the way that fight looked like it was going, he doubted she needed any help.
Harry was still smiling as he slipped into a covered alcove. The place was already occupied when he got there, exactly as expected.
"Mr. Bloom, I take it?" Harry asked the fat man sitting across from him. The man's double chins jiggled a little and sweat covered his brow. It wasn't hot in here so Harry didn't doubt it was from nervousness. There were two goons placed on either side of him with large guns that Harry was sure were supposed to scare him, they didn't.
"Just Basilisk, if you please, I am no Mister." Harry's sinister grin covered his face. He hated working for scumbags like this, but money was money was money.
"Basilisk, I have a job for you." He pushed over a file on the table. Harry didn't look at it. He wouldn't until he was far away from this man with money in his pockets. "The man is almost untouchable and no one I have hired before has been able to do the job." He dabbed the sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief.
"You know how I work, Mr. Bloom?" Harry asked coldly. The man's nod jiggled parts of him that Harry was certain shouldn't be jiggling. The man pulled out a briefcase and slid it across the table.
"One million now and three more once the job is done." Mr. Bloom pulled back as Harry grabbed the briefcase and the folder. He was almost standing when the man interrupted him again. "Aren't you going to check the money and the folder before you accept?" Harry smiled at the man again.
"Are you suggesting that I should doubt you, Mr. Bloom? Are you saying that you are untrustworthy enough for me to check that you have given me the right amount of money? Because if that is the case then I probably shouldn't take this job anyway." Bloom shook his head franticly, the terror in his beady eyes increasing. "Besides, if you are dumb enough to try and screw me, you will be easy enough for me to kill." Harry shrugged. "I haven't met a person alive I couldn't kill when given enough incentive and I don't go into meetings with people before doing extensive background checks." The man was pressed against the back of his set terrified. "Dr. Caudswell will be easy enough to kill Mr. Bloom and I don't need a folder filled with undoubtedly misinformation to tell me that." He stood up and smiled at the man. "Now, good day, Mr. Bloom."
Harry slid out of the alcove with practiced ease. With a flick of one hand the briefcase was shrunken and placed into a pocket. He opened the folder and glanced at that the familiar image of Dr. Caudswell. Harry had done his research before his meeting and discovered that Mr. Bloom had hired three previous assassins to kill the Doctor without a single one returning.
He was reading through the folder when he was hit from the side by a rushing body. He glanced up, but the man who hit him had kept running. Curious, Harry headed over in the direction of the running man. Soon enough he came upon a crowd of people gathered around what looked like a fight. He moved closer not even noticing when the people in front of him hurried out of the way. The sight that he came upon at the center made him smile.
The girl that he had noticed yelling earlier had taken it a step further. The bodies of 4 of the goons lay groaning or still on the ground around her. She was crouched over the last man with a knife resting above his right eye. The goon was breathing heavily and looked scared. He caught the end of what she was saying.
"...Тронешь меня еще раз, и я вырежу твои глаза, отрежу твои конечности, и скормлю их тебе." The girl spat at the man underneath her. Harry took out his wand and flicked it at himself. He was sick of not being able to understand Russian and he was a wizard so he didn't have to be. His head spun for a second before his brain caught up to the translation spell.
"Please, I will not do so again just don't..." The man stopped talking with wide eyes as the knife traveled down his body to rest above his privates.
"What did I say about talking?" The girls eyes were bright as she pressed down a little and the man gave a little yelp and tears shot out of his eyes.
Harry was so focused on the man's slobbering that he almost missed the influx of men that came from another side of the circle. Harry almost groaned when he noticed the insignia on their jackets was the same as the ones one the men on the floor. No matter how good the girl was, and by the looks of it she was very good, she wouldn't be able to take down that many people. As the men stepped forward into the circle he almost groaned.
He had gotten over this before, he didn't have to help her, but when he noticed the way that their eyes scanned the girl he didn't doubt what his actions were going to be. He cursed what remained of his hero-complex and destroyed the folder he was holding. He stretched his arms a little and stepped into the ring with a sigh.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? All you men just for one little girl, I think that is a little unfair don't you?" He ignored the whispers at spread through the crowd behind him. He heard his codename whispered franticly. It wasn't as if he hid it. The Ouroboros logo that he had claimed was spread across the back of his shirt readily.
The girl had finally turned around to see the men that were sneaking up behind her. She knocked the man on the ground unconscious and then sprung up beside him.
"What do you want?" Harry guessed she was speaking in Russian still, because her words didn't quite match up with the words he heard.
"To help." Harry replied. The girl looked at him confused and Harry shrugged. The people that worked in this place didn't really help each other out, but Harry couldn't help himself. Whenever he looked at her he saw little Ginny who died at the same age she was now and had that same fiery temper.
"Vhy?" The girl asked him in English with a thick Russian accent still confused. Harry turned to the approaching goons.
"I'll tell you after we take care of this." Harry smiled at the men and clenched his fists. "Come on boys. Let's have some fun."
Harry let the leader get close enough before he shot forward and dropped the man with a punch to the throat. He sped through the rest of the goons with the same speed and fury. Jumping from one man to another. A sweep of the legs followed by a kick to the side of the head. Twisting an arm until it broke. Bouncing a man's head against the wall. It was all great fun until he heard a cry come from behind him.
As he turned around he twisted the head of the man he had in a headlock. With a sickening crunch the man fell to the ground lifeless. The cry came from the girl on the ground. She had apparently been tripped by one of the men she was fighting. It looked like she had twisted her ankle from the limp she had as she stood up. Harry glanced back at the goons he was fighting. There was not many left, not enough to catch them if they ran. Harry went over to the girl hopping over unconscious or dead bodies until he was next to her.
"Time to blow this joint, sweetheart." Harry grinned at the confused look she shot him. He knocked one of the oncoming unconscious and patted his back. "Come on up." The girl still looked confused so Harry slowed down and tried to explain more. "It is time to go and you need some help, which I am offering to provide." Harry looked pointedly down at her twisted ankle. The girl looked annoyed.
"I can valk."
"I'm sure you can, sweetheart, just not fast enough to get away from these idiots. Now hop on would you." Harry smiled a little when the girl glared at him but grabbed the back of his shirt anyway. She tucked her legs around him and threw her arms around his neck. "Good job."
Harry barely gave a glance to the remaining thugs. He ran to a wall and jumped onto a group of boxes that seemed to populate the marketplace. With enough maneuvering and jumping he cleared the remaining crowd and ran to an exit.
He didn't stop running until he was several streets away.
"Alright, little girl, you can get down now." He motioned to her to get down. He ignored the grimace that she made as her hurt foot hit the ground. He had done his good deed for the day, there was no reason to continue carrying her.
"Vhat do you vant?" The girl asked in her broken English.
"A beer and a place to sleep for the night. Both of which I can get just fine without you. Goodbye, little girl." Harry poked her forehead and started walking away.
"You can't just leave." Good, it seemed like she was back to talking in Russian. Harry could understand her much better with the translation charm than anything she said with her horrendous accent.
"I beg to differ, little one. I can do whatever I want." Harry didn't stop even when she tried to place herself in front of him. "Look, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I really don't want or need anything from you. I helped because I could. I understand it is a foreign concept for you to understand, but just accept the help and move on."
It was quiet for a few moments so Harry turned away again ready to forget the girl entirely.
"I can't be in debt to you." The sentence was almost whispered to him, but it had been said all the same. "I refuse to be in debt to anyone, anymore. So what do you want?" The girl was almost yelling at him in Russian now and Harry got a flashback to another little red headed girl yelling at him. He sighed.
"I suppose you wouldn't just accept me telling you that I don't require payment?" He groaned a little and rubbed his eyes when she shook her head. "Fine, fine then. I have a job currently. You help me on it, I will consider us even. Got it?" He looked at her firmly. The girl's eyes darkened and she nodded.
"Vhat do I call you?" She was back to speaking English again and Harry almost groaned.
"Look, you can talk in Russian for the remainder of the job okay? As long as you can understand me, then we are good." He waited until she nodded to continue. "You can call me Basilisk." The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Good, it looks like my reputation precedes me. If you screw me over nothing will help you, little girl." Harry said harshly.
"My name is Black Widow." The girl replied in the same tone and Harry almost smiled. He was glad that she wasn't the type to get pushed around by reputations. He patted her head with a smile that grew when she knocked his hand away and glared at him. "Why don't you speak Russian?"
Harry laughed at her.
"I don't know how to speak Russian, little spider." He laughed even louder at the very confused look on her face. Once he stopped laughing her continued. "I have a place we can crash for the night. You okay with that?"
Harry didn't wait for an answer, he had already turned around and started walking again. The girl would follow him out of her obsession to pay back her debt or she wouldn't. Harry didn't really care either way.
AN: I WILL ONCE AGAIN REITERATE THAT I DON'T KNOW RUSSIAN! I AM SO SORRY FOR ALMOST DEFINITELY BUTCHERING YOUR LANGUAGE. Here is what I hoped I was writing, you can thank google translate if it's wrong:
...Некомпетентные бабуины. Держу пари, вы даже собственные члены не найдете, настолько они малы. = ...incompetent baboons. I bet you can't even find your own dicks they are so small.
Тронешь меня еще раз, и я вырежу твои глаза, отрежу твои конечности, и скормлю их тебе. = touch me again and I will carve out your eyes, cut off your extremities, and feed them to you.
EDIT: Some glorious person just corrected my sentences and I want to thank them from the bottom of my heart.
Okay, if you speak Russian and you don't completely hate me I would love for you to correct my probably terrible sentences. I will also probably need help in the future if you are interested in betaing.
Now, on to the fun part. This is quite possibly the next story that I am thinking of doing. If you have any interest in me continuing this story please tell me so via that nice little comment box below this. I love the changes that FF has made to the comment section. I will be interested to see if anyone wants this to continue.
Thank you for reading,