Harry Potter - Hellion!

 

The loud pops brought the guard’s attention! He brought his uzi to bear and yelled:

"Hit the ground, hands in front of you!"

As the four mages hit the dirt, Alice told Frank, "You were saying about the gentleness of the mundane, husband?"

"There are always exceptions to confirm the rules, Alice."

"You four shut up!"

"I have not said anything yet," mumbled Sirius as Frank swore under his breath.

"Identify yourselves, terrorists!"

"How can we, you just to us to shut up?" replied Frank.

"Frank, no more wisecracks please. He is ready to hex us to hell and not bring us back!"

"Now, who is doing wisecracks, Alice? You and Frank are a matching pair," replied Remus. The wolf then remembered something. "Does the word Omega-One ring any bell? I was told it pertains to our clearance from Her Majesty the Queen."

The guard became even more nervous. He almost pulled the trigger before recovering enough self-control to back in the guard-house and dropping the headset off the hook with his shoulder, unable to hold the uzi with a single hand.

"What is the problem, Flip?"

"O...O... Omega-One! Omega-One!"

"I am going to the gate, Flip, and it better not be another one of your pranks, or I shall flip you the bird during court-marshall, before flipping you in jail."

The only thing the poor guard could repeat was "Omega-One!" hysterically, and constantly, totally oblivious to his superior, his surroundings, or the fact that he was mishandling a deadly weapon in front of civilians! The mages did not move or add a word, quite aware their lives hanged by a thread.

Quickly, a jeep in military green livery made it to the gate.

"Pray God he does not use his horn, or we are dead," whispered Remus.

An officer jumped off the jeep from the left side and made his way to the still closed gate.

"So? Where is that Omega-One, Flip?"

Said Flip looked at the ground, still too shaky to talk. Following the guard’s eyes, the officer noticed three men and a lady on the dirt beside the guard-house.

"You are the Omega-One cases?"

"Yes, but for God’s sake, disarm that guy. He is making us nervous!" said Alice.

The officer had to admit Flip had flipped.

"Flip! Get to Bones’ Office, and ask to be relieved for nervous breakdown. I will go see you in the infirmary later. Leave your uzi on the ground before leaving, you are in no condition to walk with it."

Military conditioning took over and Flip obediently kneeled down, dropped his uzi to the ground, and then, after crossing the gate, took off at a run toward a building the mages assumed was the infirmary. They all released an explosive breath of relief.

"That was close..."

"Too close for comfort, Alice," replied her husband.

"Can we stand up?" asked Remus. "It is not that the grass is uncomfortable per se, but it rained and it is wet."

"Sure. I am sorry for Flip. He spent some time in the Golan Heights as a Blue Beret, and saw too many ugly things. Ever since his tour with the UN, he has never been the same. We try to keep him out of stressful situations until he can retire, but army and stress work hand in hand. Some people are not cut for the service, but his dad made it mandatory for the kid by cutting him off unless he works in the service. He is a certified asshole, but I never said it."

"We know the kind. They usually wear their asses on their left forearm in the form of a dark mark," replied Sirius. "Can I pull something out of my robe? I can assure you this is not a weapon."

"Yes, slowly, please. We have been running on adrenalin since forever, it seems."

Sirius pulled out the writ and handled it to the officer, seal first. After examining the seal and reading the writ, the officer offered them a ride in his jeep and another that had moved by.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Where are decisions and informations collected?"

The Command and Coordination Centre, the C3."

"That is where we need to be."

"Okay."

Five minutes later, after leaving skid marks all over the base to reach the underground entrance to the C3, the officer stopped at the gate, and said "Omega-One." The soldiers pushed the gate open as fast as possible, and the jeeps took to a sharp incline that ended at a steel door. On a speaker, the Omega-One code was repeated and the three-foot thick door slid open quickly, to let both jeeps in and then slam close with a resounding cling.

"Swallow saliva. The area is over-pressurized to keep any contaminant out," said the officer as the jeep resumed their nauseating dive down below the base. Another door appeared, another exchange of the Omega-One password, another thick steel door, and another slamming of steel on steel brought the two jeeps in a car pool that had just about every conceivable thing that could roll off-road in it.

"Swallow again. That area is at two atmosphere. We gained .5 at the lock, and another now."

"Two atmosphere?"

"Twice normal atmospheric pressure. No toxin can get in. It is designed to withstand a direct nuke hit, nerve gas, and bacteriological attacks. What you see on the surface is an elaborate lure. Even the Harriers on tarmac are wooden imitations. The real ones are one thousand feet below and get raised for take-off with rapid lifts that pass through the same lock system. The tubes, as we call them, wash the plane with powerful jets of water to remove any contaminant upon return from a mission, and are checked for radiation residues by geiger counters. Now, your dog tags."

"See Sirius, the mundane really care about you: they have a dog tag with your name on it, Padfoot!"

"Wolf, may I remind you that you will be wearing a collar with a dog tag as well? What a dishonor for an honorable were, be he wolf."

"Will you two grow up?", Alice said, as the security officer distributed the dog tags.

"You must wear the collar and the dog tag together, at all times within the confines of the base. It tracks your movement, and you can not pass from one security sector to another without the proper clearance. What is your security clearance?" asked the officer.

"Omega-One."

The officer bleached, pulled four red dog tags, replacing the blue ones he was planning to use, and registered the visitors.

"You are number one, Mrs Longbottom; you are number two, Mr. Longbottom; you are number three, Mr. Lupin; and you are number four, Mr. Black."

"Do these numbers have special meanings?"

"Yes. You are the first to receive Omega-One clearance, anywhere in the United Kingdom and the Dominions of her Majesty."

"I wonder what number Harry will get..."

"Lord Emrys, one Harry James Potter, is Omega-One-Zero. He musters more power than the Queen with that tag. Follow me, please. We must proceed diligently."

The security agent took the mage to the C3 and brought them to the rotunda table that tracked the search and, for that matter, any military movement within two thousand five hundred miles to the British Islands.

"What are civilians doing here, Major?"

"Omega-One, Major-General. Lady, gentlemen, I leave you in the hands of Major-General Bradley." With that the security officer saluted, and did an about face to return to his duties.

"We heard you were tracking a dragon. We need to assess it. From the fragments of things we have gathered, it might be linked to our target, one Lord Emrys, Harry James Potter, Omega-One-Zero."

The Major-General turned gray.

"We lost it... in Sherwood Forest, sir."

"How can you lose a dragon? It is not a marble!" asked Sirius.

"We wish we knew. It was there last night, but gone this morning. However..."

"However?"

"There was a strange occurrence: a timber wolf appeared in the dragon nest. We have not had a wolf, of any kind, in liberty since 1850, sir."

Meet me at the next full moon, and see if you have no wolves left on the island! thought Remus.

"Are there things you can say about that wolf?"

"It is huge, it is dark grey, and moves like a cloud. Our ground trackers have seen him, but they see maybe one paw print every five hundred yards. It walks on fallen tree trunks, on rocks, and beds of leaves, but never on dirt or anywhere it could leave a print. Tracking it is a nightmare. It leaves broken branches, back-tracks and takes in a different direction. We have never seen an animal act like that, well, except humans."

The four mages looked at each other. Sirius took a picture showing four animals sitting together: a rat on a rock, a wolf, a dog, and a deer with impressive antlers.

"Does this picture contain anything that resembles what you have for information?"

The Major-General studied the picture carefully.

"Let me get the picture of the wolf one of my men got."

He went to his desk and took a twenty-five by twenty-five picture that had been electronically enhanced for clarity and brought it for comparison. The grey coloring matched, except for the presence of a Z-shaped scar over the right eye.

"And do you have a picture of the shark and dragon?"

"Yes. Hold on."

The dragon’s picture was taken by a hovering craft with telescopic lens; the shark had been taken from a security footage of the dam, and was grainy, but had been improved.

"Notice all three show the Z mark, exactly where they would be for a perfect anatomical match," said Remus. "Also remember the Queen’s report: Dumbledore described such a mark on Harry. We even discussed with her of its nature. The conclusion is unavoidable, lady and gentlemen. The shark, the dragon, the wolf, and Harry James Potter, Lord Emrys, are one and the same. Harry is a metamorphagus of such magnitude he can recreate extinct species, magical species, and probably a lot more. Tracking him, and capturing him, will be next to impossible unless he wants to be found and captured."

"How old is Sir Potter?"

"In human form? A year and three months, barely."

"Is this level of power normal within your people?"

"Oh no! In fact, Harry probably would whip his ancestor Merlin’s ass with both hands tied. Merlin could take the shape of a wolf, but only that shape. How many can Harry take remains to be assessed. Three forms is unheard of; two of which are known to be magical is even more unheard of; and we have no idea if a Megalodon was not magical. There is no reason to believe that it could not be. Magic predates life itself, it is what drives life’s existence," replied a Remus in teacher mode.

"We need to go to Sherwood forest to see how we can help the search!" exclaimed Sirius.

"We have training Harriers. Two-seaters. Lieutenant, get four training Harriers ready for emergency take-off."

"Sir, we have no suits for them!"

"Stay at ten thousand feet, damn it! The forest is not trying to run away!"

"Yes sir!"

"Follow the guy, he will get you strapped and delivered."

The aviator took the four mages to a huge underground hangar, and then to a row of double-seater Harrier jets. He then delivered them to preparation crews. "No suit, no Gs, no high-flying. You are doing fragile package delivery."

Five minutes later, the four mages had helmets with ear plugs, and were tied to the rear seat of the cockpit. Over the radio, they received instructions.

"Do not touch anything. The ejection seat has been disabled because you would not be high enough for the parachute to open."

Do not worry. We can port."

"Oh. Okay. Next, we will be flying thirty minutes to Sherwood forest, at about a quarter of our maximum speed. When we land, I will release the bubble, and you can climb out. I suggest you, err... port down after getting on the wing. Jumping can break a leg."

"Okay."

---

Things went as planned. The Harriers landed in a field, about four miles from the nest, and dropped their human cargo.

"Packages delivered," informed the squadron leader, before turning back to his base, this time at full speed.

The mages got picked up by a platoon and incorporated in it.

"The wolf is two miles to our right. Our radio watch saw it look up as you flied overhead, but no other reaction. It is so not wolf-like!"

"Okay, lead us on its tracks, slightly behind. I do not want it to feel threatened," replied Remus, using his wolf instincts to guide the pursuit. "Do you have a clear paw print?"

"Yes,we found it twenty minutes ago at a stream’s edge. The wolf took to the stream bottom, which was made of pebbles, in an effort to hide its trail. It took us all that time to find him again! It is like it is playing with us, testing our ability to track him, a sort of game."

"It probably is. It is also a one-year old human boy enjoying himself immensely by outsmarting adults. The moment it stops playing, start praying for your survival."

"Err..."

"He is an apex predator. He is playing with his food. Do not forget it! Ever!"

A few minutes later, they reached the edge of the stream, and the forepaw print.

"Sirius?" asked Frank.

Sirius changed to his Grimm form and sniffed the print, before returning to his human form.

"It is Harry all right."

"What just happened?"

"Animagus form-shifting, a primitive type of shape-shifting at which Harry seems to be a master. Let us move upstream. We have a pup to catch up with!" said Sirius, dismissively.

The group made it through the dense under-bush, following the hacked path made by the scouts. They caught up with them at the edge of a rock outcrop.

"What is the hold-up?" asked the platoon leader.

"Up or down?" asked the scout leader. I am short of several men while we wait for those that went downstream catch up."

The platoon leader looked at Sirius.

"No need for Sirius’ abilities. The track is so fresh I can follow it," said Remus as he sniffed around. "Neither up or down, but across. He jumped a good fifty yards to that outcrop. We need to go down and up the other side to pick the trail up."

The scout looked at Remus with unmasked scorn.

"After seeing what I did, I will follow them to hell and back. Let us get moving," said the platoon commander.

It took the better part of half an hour for the platoon to make its way down to the ravine, cross it, and climb up the other side.

"See? Claw marks gouged the rock as the wolf made its landing," said Remus.

The wide eyes of the now regrouped scout team told the others they had begun revising their opinion of the ‘civilians’.

"Okay. Now left, following that edge."

The group made their way along said edge, as it slowly moved down toward the river in the distance, following Remus’ nose.

"Uh, oh!" said Remus at some point.

"Is something wrong? You did not lose him, did you?"

"No, but he is turning around us... and crouching. Look at that tuff of hair caught in the sage. It is underbelly hair."

"So?"

"We have become prey, gentlemen. Stay grouped! At all costs! He is now using the wind to hide his smell and find us more easily! He is no longer playing with his food, he is hunting it! Wands out, guys, pre-charge an overpowered stun spell, we will not have time to focus when he decides to do the drop on us!"

Remus and the other mages took their wands out and loaded them with a stun spell that had the tip of the wands glow blue.

"Let us move. Keep your eyes and ears open.

The group resumed their motion more carefully, trying hard to see what lay around them.

"That little bugger is way too smart for our own good. Look ahead! The bushes are thick, forcing us into single line. Right above where we must pass is an overhang. And the wind is coming from behind us, so he can smell us, but we can not smell him. We will not be able to broadside him, and only one of us will be able to fire a spell with any chance of a clear hit. The bushes will diffuse the others! We are walking in a trap of his own making. And look at that, a series of clear paw prints! He is mocking us! Telling us we are easy to fool!"

The mages and the muggles looked at the way too inviting path, and the muggle platoon leader had to admit the analysis was too clean for comfort.

"Can we back off?"

"Not really. He can outrun us and go ahead to lay another trap. We passed one not five hundred yards behind. It did not look that dangerous from the side we came, but when we exited, I realized we had cut off any possibility of retreat. I though Harry would not have noticed, but, apparently, he has... We are in-between traps."

As the muggles and mages thought things out, a terrible growl was heard in the bushes ahead, followed by an inhumane cry.

"Do you have any men of yours ahead?"

"No, this is my search sector, and we are smack in the middle of it."

Another cry was heard a bit to the left of the trail, followed by a falling tree, that rolled off to the side of the cliff into the ravine. A white, bony-looking mask rolled off the tree and got flung up to come cascading down to the platoon leader’s feet.

"A death-eater mask. From the smell inside, I would say Rockwood, one of the inner circle members of that gang. Her Majesty will not get his body, and his head will not be recognizable."

"He will eat it?"

"No, he will bury it. When he can come back later. For now, it is no longer a hunt for food, but a hunt to protect his territory. Woe those who attacked him!"

Another cry was heard, as a reddish spell sizzled against the tree near the platoon’s position.

"Get your guns out, guys, and dig yourselves in. We will try to make a move to take the death-eaters from behind, and your slow and noisy movements would hinder us. Remember, the wolf is not to be hurt."

Another crack was heard, and another tree fell in the ravine, taking with it a death-eater that fired spells widely, hitting one of his own ally in the process and cutting the leg and the branch it had been sitting on.

The four mages popped behind the death-eaters’ line, on higher ground. From there they could see spells cast from tree tops at a small clearing, were a wolf was clearly evading the fireworks, before taking huge jumps to bring down its enemies with goring efficiency. They saw bowels dangling from branches, trunks smoking in the cold air. As they watched in horror, the wolf made a fifty foot jump from under a tree and closed its jaws on the exposed underbelly of one of the death-eaters, to then let itself fall back to the ground, having taken out the entire intestinal tract with him. The death-eater tried to hold his innards in place while yelling, and fell to the ground slowly, as the wolf made his way across the open area, gaining speed to jump on to a huge branch, hop to another, and take one mage from behind by clamping its mouth on its neck.

"That is a killing machine," said Alice, awed by the spectacle.

"Remember what I said at the Round Table. Harry has collected the knowledge of all those that have died and willed their lines to him or his own line. And Potter, by and large, has a larger compendium of knowledge than the rest of the magical and mundane world combined. What you see is this at work. And as he is fighting for his life, each time one of those he kills is the last of their lines, he gathers their knowledge and power. He is probably reaping the knowledge willed to Voldemort by his followers."

"I suggest we prove we are on his side."

"How, Alice?"

"Let us go death-eater hunting. From what I see, there are sixty or so trying to get him."

"I wish we could reason with him, but he is in berserker mode, and reasoning will come after he has exterminated all his enemies."

"Why do you want to reason with him, Alice?"

"We need to know how they found where he was. Someone betrayed his position, or something."

"We will do what we can, but first, we need to help. Sirius, left flank of the line, Remus, right flank, Alice to my left. Try to cut the trees the death-eaters are using, right under their ass. The higher they fall from, the more likely they will be out cold and maybe Harry will leave them alone..."

The mages silently walked from behind, took aim, and fired almost at the same time. Four tree heads fell to the ground, taking with them the vultures. Meanwhile, Harry continued his gutting, tackling the front line of the death-eaters, close to the clearing they had encircled. The mages fired again and again, cutting a total of thirty-six tree tops that either fell to the ground or into the ravine.

It finally caught the attention of the front line and they began trying to split their attention between their back and their front. The tactic did not serve them in any way, as the already diminishing wand power was now divided. The wolf began cleaning from one side while the mages made their progress toward him from the other side of the clearing.

At some point a horrible cry was heard from a tree top, the last one to clear: "Avada Kavadra!" and the ugly green spell sped toward Harry Potter, who looked at it with a growl.

"Harry! Move!" yelled a frantic Sirius, as three cutting spells converged on the lone death-eater, cutting him to pieces.