20

Chapter 19

Harry woke early the next morning and stretched until his muscles quivered, exhaling heavily as he relaxed. Throwing his blankets back, he dropped his feet off the side of his massive bed, scratching his stomach drowsily. A sharp pain had him yank his legs back up with a yowl, his heels bleeding from several claw and teeth marks.

"Ow! What the fuck, Warthog? You little shit!" Harry hissed furiously, dangling a hand over the edge to tempt the rapidly growing furball out from under his bed. Waiting until she leapt out to take a swipe at him, he grabbed her by the scruff and dangled the unrepentant kitten in front of his face.

"I should feed you to Alpha for that stunt!" He glared into her amber eyes. Warthog merely mewled apathetically and squirmed. "Oh, don't think you're getting out of it that easily! I don't care if it's perfectly normal behaviour for a kitten, you're going to be too big to be allowed to get away with games like that! You, missy, are going to have to have some serious attitude correction, even if I have to magically increase your intelligence so that you understand the lecture I'll give you!"

Tossing her gently onto the bed, he derailed her attempts to attack his retreating form by throwing a pillow on top of her. By the time she had wiggled free, bristling with injured pride, he was in the bathroom with the door shut.

When Harry arrived at Potter Manor, he was mid discussion with his Hounds.

"-be a way to increase her intelligence! Then when I leave her here she can be part of the property's defences. If we found a male and did the same thing, and it passed the intelligence onto their offspring, we can breed some. Aren't they endangered or something anyway? We can write it off as a private conservation effort or whatever. It should be easy enough to forge the permits."

Alex coughed slightly in amusement. "Puma's aren't endangered, Sir. If you wanted to breed them, that's up to you, but I honestly wouldn't bother. The permits wouldn't be an issue, but them eating the other things on your property might be."

Harry frowned. "You're right. Even intelligent ones left to roam free would probably eat my horses. And possibly the elves."

Sergei rubbed his upper lip, covering a smile at the horrified expression on the elf that had just popped in to bring them tea.

"The only way I know of to increase a mundane animal's intelligence is to bond it as your familiar." The Russian interjected, returning the conversation to the original point. Harry had been driving himself hard lately, and in so many different directions that he would sometimes go off on tangents if someone didn't keep track of his original thoughts.

Sighing, Harry sipped his tea. "Well, not every idea can be a good one, I suppose."

"No, but bonding her as a familiar might be." Alex nibbled on a scone, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a serviette to get the miniscule trace of cream left behind.

"Why's that?" Harry sipped his tea, looking out the window and watching his horses in the paddock. One of the mares was pregnant and due to foal any day, or so Brix had informed him.

"Well, she would stop attacking you for one. A familiar can't hurt their bonded. It would allow her to share a little of your magic, so chances are she would develop some new and interesting abilities that would benefit you, and her intelligence would be increased exponentially. She wouldn't be quite as smart as you, but it would probably be close. She'd be on par with the average person without a doubt. You could also see through her eyes, and all sorts of other fun tricks."

"Maybe, but what about when I go to Hogwarts? Bonded or not, it's not like I can show up with a Cougar in tow. Sergei, stop sniggering."

Snorting into his coffee, Sergei wheezed, still stuck on the image of Harry in Transfiguration with a middle aged slut perched on his desk while he tried to turn her into a goblet.

Alex smiled at his friend, before turning back to Harry. "Why not? Hogwarts regulations say you can have a cat, owl, or toad. It doesn't specify breed or size. And she is technically a cat."

Harry stared at his bodyguard, completely bewildered. "And you seriously think that me taking a hyper intelligent cat with a bad attitude that's larger than most of the students is a good idea?"

Shrugging, Alex shifted in his seat, crossing his legs elegantly. "You can't have body guards with you at school. And even if we were to get a little place in Hogsmede so we were closer, you need us to run your business for you while you're away. We won't really be able to help you. But having a massive hyper intelligent cat with a bad attitude able to find you wherever you are that will fight to the death to protect you? That's going to be enough to make most trouble think twice."

Harry groaned and dropped his head back, smiling slightly as Reaper swooped over and perched on the back of the chair and started preening his hair. "You have a point, but I'm still not sure it will be a good idea. At the least, it will set the teachers against me right from the beginning."

Sergei swallowed his biscuit, and threw back the rest of his coffee. "Boss, your security is more important. Besides, if you don't do something about that little menace, she's going to end up eating one of the kids. Or me. I'd rather not have to kill her for attacking me."

Reaper burbled her opinion, Harry tilting his head to listen attentively.

"You really think so?" He asked the bird.

Reaper responded with knocking sounds and a brief warble.

"Well, when you put it like that," Harry sighed.

The two men watched the discussion with interest.

"What did she say?" Alex finally asked, when it seemed like Harry had no intention of translating.

Harry blinked, coming out of his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, she said that Warthog will provide exactly what I need at Hogwarts, and that she will make for excellent protection."

Alex looked indignant. "That's exactly what I said!"

Nodding amiably, Harry sipped the last of his tea. "Yes, but you're unlikely to shit in my hair if I don't listen to you." He smirked faintly as both men cringed and glanced warily at the smugly preening Raven.

Harry had spent a rather enjoyable afternoon training and flying with Draco. The blond boy was surprisingly good company once he dropped the superior attitude. Lucius had clearly put a lot of effort into training his heir, and Harry was pleased that he wouldn't have to do as much tweaking to the boy's personality as he'd feared.

The blond boy was still amusingly naïve about the world, but he was learning quickly under Harry's subtle tutelage. He wasn't a natural leader, but he would make an excellent second at the school; his intelligence, family connections, and natural charisma (when he wasn't being a little snot) all things that Harry fully intended to use to his advantage.

He had just settled himself at his desk to do some paperwork before dinner, when a deep growl rumbled through his mind from the Pack. Opening up the link, he was bombarded with images, scents, and some sort of other sense that had no real human equivalent. He swore mentally; the goblins hadn't mentioned any sensory overlap down the link. He swallowed hard, trying not to hurl at the dizzying connection. Breathing slowly, he ignored Alex and Sergei's frantic questions, and focused on the images, slowly teasing apart the threads that were the connections between individual pack members. He quickly realised that a large part of the problem was that each member of the pack was contacting him individually - the equivalent of puppies all jumping on their owner and barking simultaneously. Groaning at the mental cacophony, he gripped the edge of his desk tightly so he didn't slide off his chair and onto the floor.

Dimly, he realised that Sergei had gone to summon Marcel since Harry couldn't speak through the onslaught, and his men had no idea what was wrong.

"Sir!" Alex was shouting in his ear now, his hands on Harry's shoulders holding him steady. "Sir!"

Groaning, Harry staggered to his feet. "Outside," he rasped, listing heavily into Alex as he tried to take a step.

If Alex was thrown by the order, he didn't let it show. Scooping Harry into his arms bridal style, he strode out of the room, collecting Sergei as he came down the hallway. Stalking quickly down the stairs, he snapped orders to a frantic Brix, and ignored the Heralds as they flapped above his head, following the party out the front doors.

Harry groaned as he felt the pack coming closer, the mental noise increasing as they all tried to communicate at once.

The pack ran up to them, restlessly shoving each other as they growled and tried to get closer to where Harry was slumped on the lawn, leaning limply against Alex's muscled chest.

"Too much!" He groaned to Alpha, trying to shove a sense of the discomfort down the link.

Alpha clearly got the message, because he snarled and whirled on the rest of the pack, driving them back.

The onslaught cut off, all but the link with Alpha. The massive beast lowered his head and gently nuzzled Harry, the connection buzzing with concern.

Smiling lightly, Harry scratched the wrinkled muzzle. "I'm alright now, Alpha. I just couldn't handle you all shouting at me at once. What were you trying to tell me?"

Alpha gave him one last sniff, then sent a clear image down the link.

Harry closed his eyes as he watched the memory of Draco walking down the pathway and exiting the front gate, heading along the road towards Malfoy Manor. He frowned, not understanding, until he saw another man appear and grab him, dragging the struggling child into the woods that edged the road.

Bolting upright and nearly head butting both Alex and Alpha, Harry cursed. He sprang to his feet, throwing out a hand onto Alpha to keep his balance when his head swam.

"Sergei, get Lucius, Draco has been taken. Let him Floo, we don't have time to fuck around. Alex, I assume Marcel is on his way? Good. Prepare a room, we're going to send a message. It appears we're going to introduce Vahan to this world a little earlier than planned."

Both men nodded and hurried off to their tasks, while Harry took a moment to converse with Alpha for any other details the golem may have picked up.

Mere minutes later, Lucius and Sergei joined him on the lawn, Alex arriving a few seconds behind.

"What happened?" Lucius demanded, gripping his cane handle tightly. He was making a valiant effort to remain outwardly unperturbed, but it was a useless effort against someone with Harry's observational skills.

"Draco left the front gate approximately ten minutes ago, and started walking back to Malfoy Manor. He was grabbed by an unknown man and dragged into the woods."

Lucius frowned. "They didn't apparate away?"

Harry shook his head. "No. My guess is that they didn't intend to have him long, or need to take him far from Malfoy Manor. If I'm correct, then we need to move, now."

"Can your Khalidah track them?" Lucius eyed the massive creatures speculatively.

"Easily, but they're too big to fit between the trees in the woods; unless you want to alert them in plenty of time to escape. Talented they are; subtle, not so much. I've already sent the Heralds searching. They should find them quickly and lead us right to them."

Lucius opened his mouth to unleash some no doubt scathing comment, when Portent flew up, cawing and flapping eagerly. She circled above them, then started to fly away, darting back and forth to show the direction.

"Let's go." Harry began jogging after the bird, knowing Lucius and the Hounds were following closely. He set a hard pace, thankful for the training his men had put him through regularly. He'd always been fast, but now he had the stamina to match.

The four companions followed the bird into the woods silently, keeping an eye out for any traps or wandering dangers. It took barely three minutes before Portent swooped lower, flitting from bush to bush to show they were close.

Slowing to a silent walk, Harry gestured to alert the men they were close. He crouched, prowling forward to peer through the leaves into a small clearing.

The man stood over a terrified and bound Draco, waving his arms spastically as he ranted. He was average height, and his light brown hair was wild and uncared for, currently decorated liberally with leaf litter and twigs. Draco must have put up quite a fight, Harry noted with approval. The man was unremarkable except for the shabby and rumbled look he sported. It was obvious from the jerky movements and wild gesticulation that he wasn't entirely compos. The ranting wasn't helping either.

"I don't want to hurt you, do you understand? But your father, he and the rest of those Death Eater scum killed my family! My wife and son… My boy was the same age as you are now. He was such a happy little boy, never hurt a fly he didn't. And then You-Know-Who fell, and your father was arrested. And I thought, I thought to myself, he'll get it now! He'll pay! But he didn't, do you understand? He claimed to be under the Imperious Curse! But he wasn't. Oh no, no he wasn't. That monster killed my boy. And now I have to make him understand. He has to know what his victims felt. What the people left behind felt. Do you understand?"

Draco was whimpering softly, tears leaking down his slightly bruised cheeks. He'd obviously been hit a few times in order to subdue him during the struggle, but beyond a few scrapes and bruises he appeared unharmed.

The man kneeled next to the pale boy, stroking his hair from his face in a parody of affection.

"He was about your age, my boy was. Looked nothing like you, of course, but he was the sweetest child. We didn't have much, but with him, we had the world. My boy, my boy," the man was weeping softly, still stroking Draco's hair. "He suffered, my boy did, do you understand? But don't worry, little Malfoy, I'm not a monster like your father. I'll kill you first, then mess you up a bit. You won't feel it, I promise. But your father, he'll think you suffered when he finds your body at the gate of Malfoy Manor. I have to do this. I have to make him understand. I'm sorry, little Malfoy, that you have to die for it to happen."

Harry had heard enough, and stood, casually strolling into the clearing as if just out for an afternoon constitutional.

The man stopped and blinked in surprise.

Harry supposed that was a reasonable reaction since it wasn't every day an Armani suit clad nine year old interrupted your murderous interlude in the middle of the woods.

"You're making a very large mistake," he announced idly, leaning a shoulder against a handy tree and crossing his ankles. He folded his arms, idly examining his nails as he waited for Lucius and the Hounds to take position hidden around the clearing.

"Who are you?" The man glared suspiciously.

Harry pursed his lips, faintly irritated. "You don't need to know that right now."

The man eyed him curiously, ignoring the wide eyed Draco at his feet.

"That's a bit rude. You should always introduce yourself when meeting new people. Where are your parents?"

Sighing heavily, Harry rolled his eyes. "You're boring." Snatching his wand from the custom leather cuff Shot had made for him, he cast an overpowered stupify at the man. His stunner punched straight through the weak shield his target threw up, hitting him dead on and knocking him flying.

The Hounds and Lucius emerged, the former scowling slightly.

"Boss," Sergei whined, earning a strange look from the blond at his side.

Harry pouted, crossing his arms sulkily. "I have a headache, and he was boring. I want to play with him." He cocked his head at Lucius, who was now checking Draco over with barely hidden concern. "That ok with you?"

Lucius glanced up from where he was picking leaves out of his son's hair. "Certainly. May I join the party?"

Smiling wolfishly, Harry chuckled. "Of course!" A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes. "You too, Draco?"

Lucius looked as if he would like to object, but he kept his peace, allowing his son to make the choice. It may have been the most intelligent thing he'd ever done.

Draco hesitated, still shaking slightly from his fright. Eyeing the crumpled man that was now being bound by Alex, he turned his reddened eyes to the calmly waiting boy.

"I'd like to come too, please."

Harry raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. He hadn't thought Draco ballsy enough for something like this yet.

"Sure thing." He turned to Lucius, bowing very slightly. "I apologise for this entire situation. Please be assured that such incidents will not be repeated. My healer should have arrived at the Manor by now, and I would like to offer you his services."

Lucius nodded back stiffly, resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "We would appreciate that, thank you."

Harry stretched his hand towards the Malfoys, taking their hands and placing them on his wrist where the concealed leather cuff rested. Activating the portkey, the three were whisked away, leaving the Hounds and their guest to follow behind.

An hour later, Draco had been given a clean bill of health and had his minor injuries healed. A fortifying cup of tea was provided, and then the men and boys were making their way down into the secure dungeon room Alex had used to house their guest.

There was no doorway, merely an odd looking wardstone set in the wall that one had to place their hand against. You would then be allowed through the doorway, similar to what Harry had been informed the entrance to Platform 9 3/4 was like. It had been set to supress the magic of anyone not keyed to the Manors wards, a fact that Harry made sure to inform the Malfoys of. The only way in was to be brought by a keyed person, the same for getting out. As an extra precaution, the block on the room was intent based, to prevent any escapes by prisoners jumping on a keyed person as they left. They could only be taken out if the authorised person willingly and intentionally took you with them.

Harry turned to look at Draco. The boy was quiet and pale still, but seemed to be mostly recovered from his abduction.

"You don't have to do this, Draco." He offered the boy a reassuring look. "This is going to be messy, since we'll be doing it the muggle way."

Lucius shifted slightly, but Draco remained resolute.

Shrugging, Harry gripped Draco and tapped the charm on the wall that allowed them into the cell, Sergei doing the same for Lucius. Alex and Marcel followed on their own.

Draco's would-be murderer was tied to a chair in the centre of the room, facing the wall through which they appeared. The rest of the wall was covered with assorted implements ranging from pliers to whips and branding irons.

Harry cast an amused look at Alex when he saw the impressive array of items on display. The Hound smiled back blandly, completely unapologetic.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man struggled against his bindings when he saw Harry, his eyes rolling wildly as the rest of the observers arranged themselves around the room.

Draco, Harry noticed, positioned himself to Harry's right in the corner where he could see clearly every action Harry made. He decided that he liked having the boy in that position. Lucius cast a quick look at his son and stood next to him, rather than in the back corner as he had originally intended.

"You may call me Sir, for now." Harry finally answered after a long pause.

Sergei flicked his wand discretely, placing gag spells on the Malfoys. Harry was already wearing his standard obscuration charm, and he kept his scar covered with a combination of makeup and a glamour as a matter of course these days. It had become habitual to put them on first thing in the morning now, and never before had he been so pleased by his foresight.

The man scoffed. "Sir? Feeling a bit pretentious, are we? Where are your parents? Do they know what you've done? You'll be in lots of trouble, young man, when they find out." The man tried to look stern, but the effect was completely ruined by the tattered clothing and tight ropes wrapping around his body.

"My parents are none of your concern. What is your concern is that you have pissed off the wrong person today."

The man sneered. "Who, Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head, before turning to peruse the wall of toys Alex had put out for him.

"Oh, you've certainly pissed off Mr Malfoy as well, but that isn't who I was referring to."

He turned back and observed the look of confusion on the man's face. Holding up a hunting knife, he examined it thoughtfully, twisting it back and forth, letting the light play on the blade. Finally shaking his head, he put it back in its place, and moved on down the wall.

"Who, then?" The man watched the dark haired boy warily, finally beginning to realise the danger he was in.

Smiling angelically, Harry glanced over his shoulder. "We'll get to that." Turning swiftly, he brought his arm up, and fired a round through the man's shoulder. He giggled as the man jerked and screamed, blood pouring from the wound. He held up the handgun, allowing it to be clearly seen by the wizards in the room.

"Did you like that? This is a muggle handgun. A Smith & Wesson SD40 VE if you want to be exact." He kept his gaze on the writhing man, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the pitiful whimpers and sobs. "A gun really is a fascinating device. It fires a bullet, which is basically a blistering hot lump of metal at very high speeds. Fast enough to tear through flesh with ease, as you have so thoughtfully demonstrated for us. At this range, it will do a lot more damage, particularly if I hit you somewhere more delicate. A kneecap, for example." He paused long enough to fire another round, shattering the joint completely. Waiting patiently for the screams to subside into whimpers, Harry replaced the weapon on the wall. He glanced around, noting the amusement of the Hounds, the boredom of his Healer, Draco's sickened yet curious expression, and Lucius's green tinged complexion.

He chuckled to himself, ignoring the flinch of the bound man before him. Who would have thought that a man infamous for his torture while serving the Dark Lord would be squeamish over a little muggle style play time? Though, he realised, there was a significant difference between casting a spell at someone and actually using your own hands to do the deed.

Gesturing negligently to the Hounds, Harry grabbed a couple of branding irons off the wall and shoved them into the convenient brazier.

Leaning against the wall, he waited for his men to finish adjusting the man's restraints. He was screaming in pain as they wrenched his injured shoulder around, strapping him to a transfigured x frame on a swivel, and a leather gag was shoved between his teeth and under his chin. It prevented him from biting his tongue or thrashing his head around, but did nothing to muffle the sound. Spread eagled, the man sobbed helplessly as every stitch of clothing was banished from his body.

Harry motioned for the frame to be set horizontally.

Picking up a packet of toothpicks, he pulled one free, spinning it between his fingers. Stepping closer to the man's feet, he grimaced at the unkempt state of his nails.

"Gross. You really should take better care of yourself you know. Honestly, what would your son think if he saw you this afternoon? Dirty, reeking, rambling to an innocent child that you planned to kill in cold blood? A child who had never done you any harm, and in all likelihood didn't even know who you were?" He tsk'd disapprovingly. "I didn't know your son, but I'm sure that he would be terrified of you. He would think you to be the very monster you accuse Mr Malfoy of being. Doesn't that just break your heart?" He mocked. "I imagine that if he is able to watch over you from the next life, as so many believe, that he saw everything you did today. Do you like knowing that your son might have watched you brutalize a child as innocent as he was?"

The man's sobs grew louder, and Harry snorted slightly in amusement. Honestly, this one was no challenge. It was a bit boring actually.

Humming a tune he'd heard on the radio recently, Harry began to insert the toothpicks under the man's filthy toenails, taking care to only put them in enough to hold their place as the man's feet jerked desperately. He only bothered with one foot, since he'd shot out the other knee, and unbalanced sensation was much more distressing to the nervous system anyway.

The Hounds tilted the frame upright, and Harry smiled faintly when the added weight on the destroyed shoulder made the man scream again. Grabbing Sergei, Harry murmured quietly into his ear, causing the stoic Russian to laugh slightly before doing what was asked.

Flicking his wand, a thick board of wood was conjured a small way in front of the frame, and the foot with the toothpicks was freed from the bindings. Sergei tucked his wand back into his arm holster, and resumed his position against the back wall.

The man looked at Harry in fear and confusion, cringing when Harry picked up the handgun again.

Harry pressed the muzzle against the man's elbow opposite his ruined shoulder.

"Kick the board."

The man stared at Harry in fear. "What?"

"You heard me. Kick the fucking board, before I put a bullet in your elbow. Every time I have to tell you again, I'm going to shoot you somewhere else. I have a Healer standing behind you, so don't think you'll bleed out before I'm done with you. We'll just heal you up and start again. Make it easier on yourself and be a good boy." Looking the man dead in the eye, he pressed the muzzle of the gun harder into the tender flesh of his inner elbow. "Kick. The fucking. Board."

Sobbing, the man did as instructed, drawing his freed foot back and kicking the board hard, driving the toothpicks under his nails and further, not a sliver of wood left visible past the ends of his ragged toenails.

Harry smiled at the scream of pain, and leaned close to his ear, crooning softly and patting his hair.

"That's it. Good boy. I know it hurts, but you did so well. I'm so proud of you."

"Fuck you!" The man shouted, practically foaming at the mouth in his fury.

Laughing in delight, Harry backed off and turned to the watching Malfoys.

"I do so like it when they have a bit of fight in them, don't you?"

Lucius looked at the boy with faint splatters of blood on his hands and beaming face, and promptly decided that this child was even more terrifying than the Dark Lord had been at his worst. The Dark Lord had been completely mad and curse happy, but he would never have lowered himself to actually getting his hands dirty, let alone enjoy it as this boy clearly did. Swallowing heavily, he offered a sickly smile.

"Quite."

Draco was pale and shaking, but had set his jaw determinedly. Harry had saved him, and was now exacting retribution on his attacker. He didn't care why he had done it, only that he had. With that single act, he'd won the boy's unshakable loyalty, especially since he hadn't missed how even his father was afraid of upsetting the other child.

"Can I play too?" He spoke out, proud that his voice only caught slightly.

Harry looked at him in delight.

"Sure! You deserve a go at him! Tell me, are you familiar with bastinado?"

Harry patiently coached Draco through how to properly cane a person's feet, and smiled proudly as each blow fell, eliciting a tortured yell from the man. Harry supposed that having the impact on one foot already hurting from the toothpicks and the other transmitting the impacts right up into a shattered knee probably added to the man's distress.

After a few minutes of letting Draco work out with the cane, Harry directed him over to the branding irons. Resuming his patient lecturing tone, he continued Draco's education.

"Now, with burns, particularly ones as severe as branding, anywhere on the skin will hurt. However, there are certain areas of the body that will hurt more as they heal, especially if they have to heal the muggle way, or can't get to a Healer promptly. Any ideas where those areas might be?"

Draco lowered his head, frowning at the floor as he thought.

"The feet?"

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked with a faint smile.

"Because then they couldn't walk to get help?"

"Excellent. Go for it!" The little crime lord gestured, and watched as Draco carefully branded the arch of the man's feet. The smell of cooked meat filled the room, and Harry realised he was getting a little peckish. Burned flesh really did smell like roast lamb. "Where else, do you think?"

"Hands?" Draco was clearly unsure, but trying to think the problem through.

"Palms or back?"

Draco paused, chewing his lip. "Palms," he finally stated firmly. "So they can't grip a weapon or broom or floo powder or whatever."

Harry beamed. "You're doing well! You might also try the back of the knees, groin, under arms, and other sensitive places."

Screams filled the air, and the smell of cooking meat intensified, while Harry eyed Lucius. The older man was pale and had closed his eyes against the image of his son pressing the red hot metal against tender flesh. Cocking his head curiously, Harry walked over to him.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked quietly, keeping one eye on the blond boy.

Lucius glanced down at Harry, swallowing heavily to clear his throat.

"Quite well thank you, Sir."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the title, but didn't contradict the older blond.

"You look like you're about to hurl. I'm surprised. I'd been lead to believe you had inflicted much worse in your time."

Lucius nodded jerkily.

"Yes, but not like," he flicked his fingers slightly, indicating the scene playing out before them. "Not like this."

"Ah," Harry nodded in acceptance. "It can be a bit of a shock to the system, I suppose. This is honestly just a little love tap really. Muggles have some truly horrific tortures throughout history; the atrocities of the Witch Trials are just the tip of the iceberg." He observed the older man closely. "Or is it because it's Draco?"

Lucius's twitch was enough to give him away.

"I see. If it makes you feel any better, at least you know he's got the balls to do what needs to be done. You've raised him well."

Returning to the other boy to continue the lesson, Harry never saw the pained expression cross Lucius's face as he realised that he really had been training his son for this his entire life - though it had been with the thought of serving a resurrected Dark Lord. Not once had he stopped to realise what he was setting his pride and joy up to become; and now it had already been realised.

Several hours later, the man was a broken shell of what he had once been. Draco, it turned out, was quite the artist, taking a scalpel and carving a winding pattern all over the man's naked body. Harry looked it over as he rubbed a paste of salt and lemon juice into the wounds - it really was extraordinarily beautiful. He made a mental note to see if the boy was as talented with a pen, and if so he might consider getting the boy to design a tattoo for him.

Harry decided that they had played enough, and it was time to get down to business. They'd already had to partially heal the man twice, and he was looking rather worse for the experience. In hindsight, peeling the skin in strips from his groin and inner thighs might have been a bit much for this session. He motioned for the frame to be transfigured back into a chair, and had one conjured for himself in front of it.

Sitting down, he crossed his legs casually while calmly wiping the blood and paste from his hands.

"Now, do you understand why all this has happened to you?"

The man sobbed, unable to lift his head. He did manage a weak shake though, his sweaty hair swinging gently.

Harry sighed. "You attacked someone currently under my employer's protection, and an innocent child at that. My employer is not a nice man, Mr… actually, I never did get your name."

The last few hours had taught the man to answer promptly at least. "Brett Jones. My name is Brett Jones." His voice was hoarse from screaming, but he knew better now than to remain silent.

"Mr Jones. My employer is not a nice man, and he takes his obligations very seriously. Therefore, when you target someone under his protection, it falls to me to educate you on the error of your ways." Harry wiped the last of the blood from his hands, and threw the soiled cloth into the brazier causing a swirl of sparks to flare up. "Look at me, Mr Jones." Waiting until the man had raised his head and met his eyes, Harry's voice grew infinitely colder. "This is a pleasant as I'm going to get, and I'm never going to get this pleasant again. So you run back to whatever little hole you crawled out of, and you tell anyone who thinks to cause trouble that this is my neighbourhood, and you do not shit on my doorstep. Do you understand?"

The man dropped his head again, lacking the strength to hold it up any longer.

Harry narrowed his eyes and picked up a large hunting knife, stepping closer to the broken man. Draco stepped up behind him and grabbed his hair, roughly yanking his head back.

"I don't think you're listening to me." Harry crooned, before roughly grabbing the man's ear and slicing it off with a single swift stroke. Holding the severed ear to his lips, he looked the mewling man in the eye and shouted. "Can you hear me now?"

Draco giggled, and Harry flashed him a brief smirk, before returning his attention to his target.

"Now, are you paying attention, Mr Jones? Good. We are going to let you go. And you are going to spread the word that Vahan is in town, and what happens to people who piss him off by touching his things. Are we clear?"

Jones nodded his head a vigorously as he could, ignoring the pain in his scalp from where Draco still gripped his hair.

"Good." Harry turned toward the door, before pausing and tossing a final remark over his shoulder. "Oh, and Mr Jones? Be sure to heal the muggle way, won't you? I'd hate for Draco's masterpiece to be damaged by a careless Healer."