Capítulo 50: Chapter 18: Inspections, Accusations and Rescues!
[Tavish POV]
Running my eyes over the gathered inspection team, it didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out that they had a couple extra tagalongs.
The team itself that was to issue the license consisted of an older gentleman by the name of Tomas Billingsly, a witch by the name of Martha Sprunk, and Charly Weasley.
The wizarding world must be truly small top run into one of the Weasley's so early, but chances are that they found a dragon keeper that was on this side of the world to do the inspection, as dragons can be a whole separate handful in a sanctuary as large as this.
The hangers on consisted of Albus Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Severus Snape, Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and Lucius Malfoy.
I was just about ready to banish them from my doorstep before Mr. Billingsly took me aside and explained the situation.
"I apologize for the change of plan's Mr. Byrne, but we have a real chance here of convincing the powers that be, that cooperating on this one topic is in everyone's best interest." He begged, and I raised an eyebrow.
"You're the only sanctuary that is capable of handling five X and above creatures. Most of these creatures have so little information on them that you are the one certified source. And we'd like to expand that by eventually opening more creature sanctuaries that can be dedicated to studying these more dangerous creatures." He finished, and I glanced back at the people talking quietly on my lawn.
"I'm still unsure of how some of Dumbledore's party factors into being here. Or the senior undersecretary for that matter." I counter, watching Macha exit the house and begin greeting the guests.
"Professor Snape is here as a member of the potion maker's association. No research has been done in recent memory on the effects of basilisk parts. As for Hagrid, I believe Charly recommended him due to his extensive knowledge of creatures. He'd probably have my job if he wasn't expelled from Hogwarts." He began listing off.
"As for Ms. Umbridge, I strongly suspect she is seriously overstepping her position for this since the Minister is here." He stated, as we both watch Macha interact with the vile woman.
Macha was truly a godsend, as we danced around our supposed relationship. She was extremely helpful in taking things slow and helping Eleanor and myself interact with our new world.
I raise an eyebrow when she brushes and catches something off of Umbridge's cardigan, but she just winks and mouths "Later" before returning to her conversation.
"Alright, I'll allow it. But I need everyone here to sign a waiver. I'm going to be the one handling these creatures, and they need to understand that they are taking their lives into their own hands if they do something outside of what is directed. The creatures are used to me, and I don't need that senior undersecretary trying to establish her fiefdom. She'll just end up a snack for the less decerning creatures." I relent, causing him to snort.
"Understood. I'll pass the message along." He replied, making his way over to the group and they were ushered into a waiting area.
I follow them into the house as well and divert towards the armory.
Walking up to one of the armor displays, I quickly divest the mannequin of the armor before strapping it on myself.
It was an experimental half-plate I had developed when experimenting with the creation of Magi-tech, and it certainly would be easier to explain magic armor in place of the many augments I possessed.
Strapping on the chest plate, belt, and boots, the plate started shifting, and connecting in an interweave that provided spinal support, along with a aerodynamic exo frame around the body.
Most of the critters I interacted with on the daily liked to nibble on me a little bit, so hopefully that would illustrate the danger whilst I'm handling them.
Raising my hand, a bundle of contracts appears in a flash of demonic sigils.
[Contract]
An agreement crafted by a higher being that binds two entities in a mutually binding contract. This contract binds the user's magic and/or soul to enforce the agreed upon terms.
A minor ability granted by the Primeval class that I gained after creating the first warlocks in the Edgerunner's world.
It was useful in keeping control of the superpowered individuals I had unleashed on the world.
And while these contracts were a lot less detailed than that used to control a bunch of street kid's, they were no less binding.
The door behind me opened, and Macha walked through with a scowl marring her beautiful features.
"That is a truly horrid woman! How on earth did she manage to find herself such a prominent position I'll never know, but she should not have gotten there." She huffed, taking the time to straighten up her hair, as I pulled on my gauntlets.
"Personally, I think she had some dirt on the minister, but I haven't particularly cared enough to look into it." I reply, moving onto a rack of helmets, and grabbing one that I knew would block a basilisk's stare properly.
"Regardless, she had a bit of a tagalong on that eyesore of a cardigan." Matcha commented, depositing a beetle onto a nearby desk.
The insect was covered in magical sigils that only allowed it to twitch weakly.
Picking up the beetle, I can barely make out markings imitating a pair of glasses.
"Macha, I could kiss you." I state, an evil grin making its way onto my features.
"I plan on holding you to that, but I don't appreciate an audience my dear." She replied, waving her hand over the door, causing a barrier to form.
Snapping my fingers, the bug morphs into a blonde-haired bespectacled woman, clutching a crocodile skin handbag.
Rita Skeeter
Class – Witch
Lvl – 246
Thoughts – surprise, fear, intrigue
"Lord Byrne! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!" The reporter greeted, seemingly unperturbed by the situation she found herself in.
"We probably need to make a note to add anti-animagus wards Macha. I'm not fond of the idea of animagus, legal or illegal in this case, wandering about as they please." I comment to Macha, who affixed the woman with a glare, making Rita flinch.
"Indeed. I'm going to step out and see to our guests. Would you kindly take care of our intruder?" She replied, stepping through the barrier.
"We'll rejoin you in just a second." I reply airily, as Rita audibly gulps.
I give Macha a moment to shut the door before I unleash my presence on the hapless reporter.
[The Only Thing They Fear Is You]
Rita scrabbles away until she hits a wall, as I stalk towards her.
"I really have a problem with people who lack even the most basic of decorum when trying to visit my house. Why don't people fucking call or send a goddamn letter anymore?" A demonic growl escapes my throat.
"P-please! I-I'm sorry! W-what do you want for me!" She begged, tears streaming down her face as she realized the depth of her fuckup, and I threw a contract on the floor in front of her.
"Sign it!" I snarl, red argent crackling throughout the room as she hurriedly signs the contract I just created.
[Soul contract complete!]
"Wonderful! Let me explain what you just signed!" switching on a dime, to my usual cheery self.
"You came here expecting to write a little bit of whatever about the family magics of the Byrne family." I start before, the contract flew into my hand.
"But I happen to specialize in killing demons, and do you know the best way to keep a demon in line?" I ask, causing her to shake her head.
"You make them sign over their soul . . ." I reply darkly, and her pail face turns white as the implications set in.
"Oh, worry not, you'll not lack in work under me, but when that poisoned quill goes to work, it will be at my dictation." I growl before the barrier drops on the door, and I open it.
"Now be good and follow." I command, and Rita stands still, shock written across her features.
An ethereal chain, makes itself known and wraps around her neck and forces her to march toward the door before vanishing as the magic takes hold.
Grabbing the contracts I created, I tuck them under my arm as Rita obediently follows.
The Primeval powerset was a very odd hodge podge of demonic and divine, and the exchange of souls was something I needed to keep a handle on for dealing with hell.
Rita, was an irritant that I'd have to deal with eventually, so her showing up on my doorstep accelerated my schedule significantly.
I stopped outside the waiting room and I turned to the reporter, who shrank under my gaze.
"Unfortunately, I have neither the time or gummy bears to deal with the likes of you today, Ms. Skeeter so we will have a discussion tomorrow . . ." I state, gesturing toward the exit, prompting her to bolt like a bat outta hell.
I reached out with my psionics, and tracked her until she vanished beyond the boarder of the property, before taking a deep breath and pushing open the doors to the waiting area.
"Welcome to the Lodge folks! As you may or may not have guessed, I'm Lord Tavish Byrne. The Byrne's have run this sanctuary for many generations and contains all manner of beasts for harvesting and breeding, and we are proud to claim no breaches or overlaps into the muggle world since our conception." I start off passing out the contracts and some pens for the gathered visitors.
"That being said, before our tour can continue, I need everyone to sign a waiver before you can enter the facility. We take care of creatures that are five X and above, and it is imperative that you listen to my instructions when near these wizard killers." I continue, as the gathered people read the contents of the contract.
"There are portions that you can interact with our "safe" creatures, and you will be allowed to do so, but I refuse to assume liability if someone decides to do something stupid in the . . . ." I tried to finish before I was interrupted by a ridiculous fake cough.
"Hem, Hem, Hem." I heard from the familiar toad faced woman.
"Madam Umbridge, are you sick? I can't have you passing unknown diseases into the very delicate ecosystem here." I comment blankly, and she flushes in anger.
"No Mr. Byrne, I was just wondering why you were wearing armor? Shouldn't everyone have some?" She asked, and I rolled my eyes.
"Because you lot are not getting in with the creatures themselves. Unless you've suddenly acquired the knowledge of handling dangerous creatures, you won't be approaching any of the beasts unless given permission to do so. The only ones who may require armor, are the inspection team, as their reports may require closer examination. However, I only foresee Mr. Weasley having to enter the Dragon habitat, and we addressed that separately beforehand." I finish, and Charley nods.
"We just need to check for stress shedding, and make sure they aren't cramped. No one likes a dragon when they are cranky." Charly comments, and I nod in assertion.
"Indeed. We will also take a visit to see some of the brand-new creatures that we've bred. One of the species has made raising five X beasts significantly easier by removing direct mage involvement.
"An intriguing concept, if you didn't state that it was a new creature, It almost sounds like your using house elves." Martha spoke up for the first time, signing the contract.
"No. These creatures emit a pheromone that causes the beasts to not see them as threat, or prey." I reply, as I collect the signed papers.
"All right, that's everyone. Now if you will follow me outside, we can meet our first creature. Don't be nervous about his size, he is quite friendly." I comment as the papers vanish into thin air.
Walking outside, I whistle, and some of the clouds overhead grow darker as a rumble of thunder breaks the quiet.
"Not many of these left anymore, but this is my familiar Ouro, the Storm Couatl!" I announce proudly as Ouro, lunged out of the storm clouds overhead, and made a beeline towards us.
"Blimey! Wha' a beaut Byrne! Where did you find him?!" Hagrid questioned, speaking up for the first time, as Ouro landed in front of us.
"I found his egg after a particularly fierce storm, and he decided to hang around after he hatched." I replied, as Ouro towered above, gently buffeting us with his feathered wings.
"I know Couatl's are purported to celestial beings, but I can't shake the feeling that Ouro couldn't help but be the Apex predator of whatever environment he'd settle in." Tomas commented, adjusting his glasses.
~Oh what a pretty baby! Can momma pet your feathers?!~ Martha said in a weird accent, and the other people in the group jolted in shock as Ouro immediately brought his head level with the beast tamer as she enthusiastically pets the massive creature.
"Parseltongue . . . ." Fudge whispered, taking a step back, and I quickly understood the weird accent.
My Allspeak was translating automatically, so it just sounded a bit odd to my ears.
"Oh chill out for Christ sake minister! Are you going to freak out if I start screaming in French?! Its highly useful for beast tamers to speak a multitude of languages. I'm quite glad that the inspection team brought someone that could speak "snake" with the creatures we have here." I gripe, and he shrinks at the chastisement.
~"Who's such a beautiful boy?"~ Martha cooed in parseltongue, as Ouro lapped up the attention.
"Ouro is extremely helpful in managing the basilisk nest since he's quite a bit bigger than the little bastards. The fact that the wrath of the sky follows him, pretty much cements him at the top of their little hierarchy." I inform, causing Tomas to give me a look brimming with curiosity.
"I didn't realize that basilisk's had such a hierarchy." He stated, and I shrugged.
"Their has probably never been a recorded instance in history where their was more than two in one location at the same time." I reply, before I start leading them towards the habitats.
[Time Skip]
[Hell]
I strolled across the plains of hell, arm in arm with Macha as I thought back to the rest of the visit.
The Beast tamer's authorized my license with no further issue, and unfortunately, nothing too wild happened.
Umbridge had a rather close call with a Dragon after stupidly wandering too close to a nest, and I regretfully bailed her out.
Dragons with indigestion were no fun . . .
On a side note, I quite liked meeting Hagrid.
He was painfully oblivious to his size, and was able to get hands on of a lot of the creatures that I allowed the group to interact with.
After they departed, Macha expressed a desire for an outing of just the two of us and it made a certain amount of sense.
So I decided on a trip to Immora, as I hadn't quite explored the depths of that city.
Unfortunately, both of us quickly got bored and ventured to the planes surrounding the city.
Tapping Steel Blossom against the ground, I grip the cane tightly as an Imp lunges out at us, only for Macha to lash out with a very ornate club.
Hurley of Scorn (God-Tier)
A weapon owned by the Celtic goddess of war, this warclub carries with it the scorn of thousands of souls left behind by the aftermath of battles fought, and sorrow that follows them. A Sgian Dubh is hidden in the handle.
Snorting at the smug grin the goddess was sporting, I unsheathe the blade in the cane and decapitate a baron of hell, cocking a challenging eyebrow at the woman.
What followed could only be described as a competition, as I raced the war goddess for the most kills.
A Macabre dance followed as we killed across hell, culling demons by the hundreds, escalating as our destruction escalated.
Macha caused a swarm of ravens to raze through a gore nest, while I went to work with my Thunder hammer, smashing in skulls as the competition slowly evolved.
"Tavish, why a hammer of all things? I believe its slowing you down my dear.~" she said in a singsong voice, a batch of ravens forming together into a sword which she promptly uses to run through an archvile.
"Look with a hammer, every problem becomes a nail, and I think that happens to be an excellent means of dealing with the issues that crop up." I reply, obliterating a Mancubus with a clap of thunder.
"Ah but you forget my dear . . . the goddess of war is one of my many titles." She finishes, and the whites of her eyes turn black, and a wave of foul energy suffuses the battlefield.
Undead warriors lunge out of the ground in waves tearing into the demons.
One with long hair rose up out of the ground and let out an unearthly shriek, drawing the attention of even more demons, causing the desolate plains top quickly fill to bursting as hoards charge out of the wood work.
Sighing in disappointment, Steel Blossom shifted into a staff, the conduit of space and time serving as its focus gem.
[Staff of Space and Time] (God-tier)
A magical focus created by Tavish Byrne to more accurately channel his spells. It possesses a wand form, because he got sick of people asking for his "wand".
Pointing the staff out in front, circular gallifreyan forms and the surrounding temperature soars.
[Miniature Sun]
A spell that summons the condensed might of a sun.
Instantly incinerating all the demons, and undead alike, ash swirled around us as Macha and I stood on the now silent battlefield.
Dispelling the spell, I turn to a giggling Macha.
"Don't tell me that's a sore point Tavish. I'm just saying you may want to expand your repertoire of weapons. I can tell you have some sort of ability that allows you to wield whatever you lay hands on, but that's not the same as knowing something in its entirety." She said smugly, and I roll my eyes before thinking.
It may be fun to disable weapon mastery, and build up my proficiencies individually.
I mean, if it doesn't work out, I can always fall back on my fists.
"Fine . . . but I still need to test out some more of these spells . . . I think I can create a black hole, but I haven't got the chance to test it out." I reply, and she gives me a flat look.
" . . . maybe you should work on basic spellcraft before finding yet more ways to terrorize the wizards." Macha answered, and I pouted.
"A little terror is good for the wand wavers. It'll help them grow big and strong!" I state cheerfully, as Macha puts a hand on her hip.
"Be that as it may, practice your more normal spells first. Youi have enough ways to strike terror into the hearts of mages." She requested and I rolled my eyes.
"Fine . . ." I state reluctantly, and I throw a stunning spell at an imp that poked his head out of the ash, miraculously surviving the attack.
[Time Skip]
I stood in a suit outside of a non-magical primary school, titled "St. Grogory's Primary School".
It was one of the few primary schools I could find in Surrey, and happened to be the last one on my list where the illustrious Ms. Potter might be attending.
You would think that the wizarding world would be a tad bit more concerned about its hero's, particularly the sole heiress of the Potter estate, but here we are searching for a protagonist who's address reads "the cupboard under the stairs."
Let's just hope the address is just the extent of the abuse the young girl may have suffered.
Leaning against my cane with a slight limp, I make my way up the steps before making my way inside.
I decided to pose as an interviewer from Cambridge who was interested in an essay that Ms. Potter had submitted in a contest.
As for the limp, I was former SAS that had served in the second world war, thus my appearance was quite a bit older and greyer that I was accustom to.
Not quite an occupation I have held as of yet, but I can fake it till I make it.
Taking off my bowler, I spot the secretary at the front desk and she glances up at me before continuing to type out her document.
"Can I help you sir?" She drawled, her fingers clicking away on her type writer.
"Yes, I have an appointment with your headmistress regarding one of your students." I answer firmly, and she pauses before giving me a closer look.
"Are they in some sort of trouble? She asked suspiciously, and I shake my head.
"Quite the opposite. They submitted a rather interesting essay. We would like to interview Ms. Potter . . ." I started, and the secretary's expression darkened.
"I'm sorry but you'd be wasting your time with that one. She hasn't shown up to school in months. I don't know where she goes but even the truancy officers can't find her. Up to no good I expect." She scoffs, and I smile placatingly.
"Oh dear, really? I didn't get that impression from the paper she sent. What kind of trouble does she get into?" I ask, a small swarm of nanomachines creeping across the floor and shuffling through the school records.
"A bunch of weird stuff. Caught her running around up on the roof once, and another time she dyed her teacher's hair blue. Don't know how she did that last one, but she was the one blamed for the incident." The gossiping secretary revealed, the nanomachines confirming her words.
"I see, I may have to visit her guardians to see if they can offer any more insight." I reply, causing her to snort.
"Good luck. From what I hear, both of them accepted guardianship after her jobless drunks of parents died in a car crash." She adds, causing me to halt.
I could just leave it at that . . .
. . . but I don't particularly want to.
"Officer James Potter and his wife died in her majesties service fighting a homegrown terrorist that had hunted them to their home on the 31st of October, 1981. Where on earth did you get the fact that they were jobless drunks?" I state, fixing my gaze on the secretary, who suddenly looked very unsure of herself.
"Rose Potter's guardian's, Vernon and Petunia Dursley." She replied, and I turn on my heel.
"Quite disgraceful. I may have to remind the two to have a modicum of respect for the dead." I finish, leaving through the front doors.
My nanomachines return, providing the address I had long suspected.
Number 4, Privet Drive.
I knew where to go of course. But I had to leave the trail for later. No doubt Dumbledore will try to discredit any story involving Ms. Potter, so I needed an ironclad case for any actions I might take.
Something about that old man sets me on edge, and I'll be damned if he gets me to fall for that "greater good" bullshit that he likes to peddle.
Unfortunately, wizards are rather good at dealing with magic, so I can't just light the man on fire and be done with it.
No, this will take some finesse.
New Quest Added!
[Meddling Old Goat]
Something is not right in the wizarding world, and you suspect a certain old man has something to do with it.
Objective 1: Discover the circumstances of the girl who lived.
Objective 2: Reveal carefully concealed plans that would destabilize Dumbledore's power base.
Objective 3: ?
Objective 4: ?
Objective 5: ?
Objective 6:?
. . .
Rewards: ?
And Iris knows I love a good quest.
Arriving at Number 4 Privet Drive, I glance around at my surroundings before subtly reaching out with my mind to the residence.
Alright, how many people are here . . .
One . . .
Two . . .
Three . . .
. . . .and a parrot?
School was out, so I could see the young girl hiding at the library, or in the forest somewhere.
Expanding my awareness beyond the house, I try to locate the girl-who-lived, but all I got was regular people going about their day.
Recentering my mind, my nose twitches as I pick up the smell of blood, and something I can't quite identify.
[Time Stop]
The world freezes around me, as I walk closer to where the supposed scent was coming from.
Walking up to the boot of the Dursley's car, my finger shifts into a sonic screwdriver and pops the lock on the trunk.
Lifting the lid, the smell of blood and chemicals hit my nostrils, as I reveal a trunk filled with an empty bloody sack, some sort of disinfectant sloshing about, and a bag full of money.
[Tavish . . .]
Iris's gentle reminder, made me realize I had left a grip indent in the car, which I undid with a wave of my hand.
Shutting the boot, I proceed through the frozen world into the house.
"Nanomachines, I need a scan of the entire house. Filter for all objects with traces of blood." I command, and unleashed multiple swarms that immediately started highlighting area's.
The fire poker . . .
The iron . . .
The rolling pin . . .
A few of the chairs . . .
The entire house would light up like a fucking Christmas tree if you made it visible to the naked eye.
But the highest concentration was under the stairs.
Opening the many locks on the cupboard, I had to reel in revulsion as the smell of rot, cloyed at my nostrils.
The single ratty blanket and mattress were stained red, making the cupboard look more akin to a slaughterhouse that someone tried to sleep in.
Standing up, I blankly walk outside, and sit on the hood of the car as I try to process what I had just seen.
I knew the world was different . . .
But for it to be this twisted and fucked . . . .
I wanted to turn around and drag those . . . vermin . . . kicking and screaming into the depths of hell.
I was barely refraining as is, trying to quell the volcano-like rage that was simmering inside.
But I needed to find out if Rose was alive.
. . . I needed a fireplace.
Walking down the street, I pinpoint a house with a little old lady with way too many cats.
Arabella Figg
Class – Squib
Lvl – 24
Thoughts – None
Trapping the woman in a stasis field, I release the flow of time, allowing the world to come to life around us.
Reaching into my inventory, I pull out a pouch of floo powder, and take a pinch.
Stepping over to the fireplace, I crouch down and toss the powder in.
"Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Amelia Bones's Office." I declare, and shove my head in the flames.
Better to get someone else involved, before I decided to deal with the family myself.
A sudden spinning sensation engulfs my head, before I'm suddenly peering into the Office of a very stern looking woman.
She had close cropped, grey hair and a monocle, which she used to peer over her desk at me.
"Mr. Byrne. A rather unexpected visit. Is there something I can help you with?" She asked, and I nod.
"I need your eyes on something rather sensitive Madam Bones. I accidently chanced upon the Potter girl's residence, or rather, her former residence. I'm calling from Arabella Figg's house, and this is something you need to see." I answer urgently, and she freezes while moving another sheaf of paper.
"And why does this necessitate me and not an auror contingent?" She asked, fixing me with an intense look.
"I strongly suspect she might be dead or close to it, and I'd think you'd prefer to head off that particular nightmare." I reply, and she swore.
"Morgana's tit's Byrne. Alright, I'm on my way." She replied standing up.
Pulling out of the fire place, I step back and the stern witch makes her way through in a burst of green fire.
"What happened to her?" she asked, immediately noticing Ms. Figg who I had frozen in time.
"Under law, magical orphans, and muggleborn mages have the head of Hogwarts as a magical guardian. This would make Dumbledore the girl's magical guardian. I strongly suspect that he was paying Ms. Figg to keep tabs on the girl. I did not wish to alert anyone to my presence." I inform, and she nods.
"Fine now show me your supposed findings." She said in a clipped manner, and I nod.
"I'll have to perform a bit of family magic . . ." I offer and she understood the implication.
"I, Amelia Bones, do hereby swear on my magic not to reveal the Byrne family magics unless he uses them to cause harm to myself or others, so mote it be." She stated and I take note of the wording.
Whatever, I invited her here, so no going back now.
[Time Stop]
The world freezes once more, excluding the bewildered woman, as I head towards the house.
"We need to move quick, I cannot maintain it for long." I state gruffly, popping the trunk once more, and Madam Bones recoils slightly."
"Evidence of a murder most certainly, but the money leads me to believe something else is at work. How did you come to the conclusion this was the Potter girl's residence?" She asked, quickly moving past the frozen time.
"Local school records. She attends St. Grogory's Primary School with her cousin Dudley. They have extraordinarily long lengths of absences on file for her, which I suspect coincide with various injuries she may have acquired over the years." I reply, and she looks at me sharply.
"Acquired? From her family?" She prompts, and I nod.
"I suspect so, but I haven't interacted with the Dursleys directly yet. Don't quite trust myself not to break a few necks. I have one last thing to show you." I answer, leading her inside.
"Cast the blood detection spell." I prompt, and she looks at me strongly, before drawing her wand and waving it around the house, causing multiple area's to light up.
"Good lord . . ." I heard her mutter, and she pulled out a sheet of parchment, and a quill before casting a few more spells on the paper that caused it to reveal more information.
"Most of this blood is from a girl younger than Hogwarts age . . ." she stated, running a hand through her hair, as the spell read its findings back to her.
"I have a way to track her down, but I didn't want to leave all of this unattended before I went searching." I supply, and Madam Bones looks at me.
"You think she might be alive?" she asked, peeking into the cupboard under the stairs and coughing at the smell.
"I doubt it, but I'll hold out hope until I find out what happened." I answer as we step back outside.
"Very well, I will get a team here and make the arrests, please let me know if you find anything?" She asked, and I nod.
"Of course Madam." I reply, before casting another spell.
[Echo's of Time]
Pull forth images and sounds of the past and control the speed at which they playback.
Unfreezing time, I rewind a ghostly image of Vernon's car and start following it on a chase after the missing girl.
[Time Skip]
Vernon was a very habitual man.
So when his car diverted towards the dockyards, I was quite willing to put money down that he was up to some shady shit.
I was sitting on top of a building across from a warehouse next to a yard full of shipping containers.
Heat signatures were moving all about the area, and it was clear I was going to have to be very hands on with finding my answers.
Dropping down to the pavement, and straightening out my suit collar, I walk towards the building and open the door.
Several men were sitting around a table playing cards, but froze as soon as they spotted me.
"Good evening gentlemen, I'm on the lookout for a small child that was dropped off here. You folks wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" I ask politely, only for the rattle of guns being drawn greets me.
"You know what, fuck this." I snarl, drawing a gun out of my jacket.
[Anti-matter Deagle] (Epic)
A Desert Eagle designed to fire condensed bits of anti-matter. Tavish decided he needed something more "normal sized" firearm that would still fulfill his need to erase anything in "that" particular direction.
I fired the gun several times, causing several of their heads to simply vanish, as the men looked on in horror.
My mind reaches out to the nearest one and rips information from his skull, leaving him braindead in the process.
Human Trafficker's.
The Dursley's sold their niece to goddamn human traffickers?!
I'm sorry but what the fuck?
Who does that?!
Ignoring the fact that they are awful excuses of human beings, you'd have to fucking go out of your way to find traffickers to sell her to.
It was easier to just dump her at an orphanage, and leave it at that rather than be this much of a cunt.
If they somehow got away scot-free, I'm going to have to kill a lot of people.
Not wasting anymore time, I simply lobotomize the remaining men as I search for what I'm looking for.
A few doors along the far wall more men run in to the sound of gunshots, and immediately open fire upon spotting my presence.
Kicking up the knocked over table, and heave it like a massive frisbee, I bisect two of the men with the force of the throw.
I was proud that I had restrained my rage this long, but now I had only goal in mind.
To wreak their shit!
[Indomitable Rage]
[Apex Daddy's Home]
The warehouse shook as I slammed my foot into the ground.
[Shatter]
The shockwave knocked the trafficker's flying as I gave into the undercurrent of rage that I had suppressed since leaving number 4.
Lunging through the doors the men came through, I grab the first person I encounter and empty the magazine into his spine, obliterating it and leaving him a gory mess on the floor.
Whatever they were shouting became muffled noise, as I grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall, and beat another man to death, his skull shattering into paste before I used the nozzle to choke another to death off the flame retardant.
It was only after I finished stuffing the man's lungs full of the powder, did I spot the trafficker with the hostage at the end of the hall.
A small boy no more than ten, was being held in front of the trafficker with a gun pressed against his head.
The Man holding him was screaming something, before I made a flicking motion with my finger.
[Omni-Psionics]
His head went flying past, as if struck by an invisible force, causing his body to go limp.
My rage finally subsided when the sounds of the crying child, probably from the shock of the sudden death.
Slowly approaching the boy, I knelt down so I was eye level with the boy.
"Hello, what is your name?" I gently whisper into his mind, causing him to freeze and cause the crying to subside just a little bit.
"G-Geoff." He supplied over the sniffles.
"Geoff, can you help me find the other people that were brought here? I think that we should get them home." I ask, speaking aloud finally.
A little trick I learned when talking to crying children, was introduce something slightly out of the ordinary, and they'll be too busy trying to figure out what's different that they won't realize that they've stopped crying.
"Y-yeah. But one of them is in a really bad way, she was having a hard time breathing and she was coughing up blood." He supplied, and I stood up.
"Alright then Geoff. Lead the way and we'll see if I can't make her right again." I coax, and he nods and starts running down the hall.
I reached for my phone before I remembered that wizards don't use phones and I swore.
Grabbing it anyway, I phone into the local Skitarii squad stationed in London.
-"Your Order's?"- I heard as the simple answer.
"I need a cleanup team on-sight. Cordon off the area and be ready to receive police and the wand wavers. Found a rather large human trafficking ring, and their going to want to duke it out for responsibility. Also reach out to the Auror's public line and say Byrne found the end of the trail." I reply, walking after the boy.
-"Understood."- I heard back before the line went dead.
[Time Skip]
[POV Detective Barnes]
Watching another captive being moved out of the stack of shipping containers, I sigh at the sheer depravity humanity was willing to sink to.
He'd seen a lot during his time as a detective, but a human trafficking operation this large right here in London was a first.
Not the fact that the perpetrators were moving so many people, but the fact that not a single one of the suspects was found.
The shipping yard was immaculately clean, to the point that it stumped the forensics they had brought along to look for clues.
However, there was still evidence of a fight that had occurred at some point.
Broken chairs, a table shaped indent in the wall, and a plethora of bullet holes supported this theory.
But the lack of bodies truly stumped most of the people assigned to this case.
The people rescued from the facility told reports of a hooded figure that wielded gun and brute force alike as he tore through the scum here.
But all of their stories ended with their eyes getting heavy and slowly falling asleep.
The Police chief had already forwarded instructions to overlook this matter, and simply focus on the treatment of the captives.
Somebody from higher up may be pressuring the chief, but I'm not sure I can let it go.
I need to find out what happened here, because who knows what happened to the people who were running this operation.
But first things first . . .
I need to reach out and see if these people had local families, and return them if able.
Someone, somewhere, was missing them, and I'd be damned if I couldn't bring them home.
[Tavish POV]
Stepping through a glowing portal with Rose in my arms, I met Madam Bones outside an abandoned department store.
I grimace slightly as my augments help keep Ms. Potter Alive.
[Secondary Heart]
A Clone of Tavish's Draconic Heart that's been infused with Necrodermis, supplements his vitality, causing it to skyrocket his bodies circulatory system along with all its associated functions.
Perk Activated
[Cardiac Overdrive] (1/100)
By utilizing both of his hearts, Tavish's vitality overflows, surpassing its limit, and flowing over to nearby allies. Has a side effect of audible drumming noises.
Why was I not just healing the poor girl?
So the healer's could officially record, the list of injuries for the court case, and Madam Bones needs legal grounds for it not to be immediately blocked by Dumbledore.
I still didn't quite know what to make of the man, but I was certainly going to hold him at arm's length after this incident.
We were quickly rushed into a private ward and she was quickly removed from my arms as the healers went to work on the girl, and I turned to Madam Bones.
"Against all odds, Ms. Potter managed to survive yet again." I grunt, wincing at the unfamiliarity of two hearts pumping in my chest.
Not an augment I usually have active, but can be beneficial.
"Indeed, and you seemed to have dumped a massive load of work on my shoulders Mr. Byrne." She replied, watching the girl finally relax.
"What happens now?" I question, rubbing my chest gingerly. My hearts were finally evening out into a smooth rhythm, creating a steady beat.
"She will go into witness protection, and possibly a semi-permanent home until she graduates." She stated, staring calculatingly at the young heiress.
"My Wife and I would be willing to take her in. Eleanor is about her age anyway, so she'd have a friend." I volunteer, and she shakes her head.
"It's a bit more complicated than that. She was allowed to be placed at a muggle house to avoid the power struggles in the various factions of the wizengamot." Amelia replied, rubbing her forehead and I shrug.
"I'm not apart of any faction. And I plan on maintaining relative neutrality for the foreseeable future." I counter, and she pierces me with a stare.
"And how do we explain that the man who found her is now adopting her?" She stated, waiting for my response.
"You don't. You just emphasize that you received an anonymous tip and requested my help due to my tracking abilities." I offer and she barks a laugh.
"You do realize that I'm an officer of the law Byrne." She states raising an eyebrow at my antics.
"Hey, I'm a very private citizen. And I did reach out instead of taking care of those bastards myself." I coax, and she chuckles again.
"Fine. You can be responsible for watching over her for now. At least I know you can scare him enough to serve as a deterrent." She stated, seriousness setting in once more, and I nod solemnly.
A commotion was heard from the hallway and I could make out a familiar grandfatherly voice.
"Pardon me, I heard Ms. Potter was brought in recently. Could you point me in her direction?" I heard as I stepped out into the hall.
"I-I'm sorry headmaster. Madam Bones was fairly strict on who all could visit her." The flustered young healer replied, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled down at the healer.
"I'm sure Madam Bones means well, but I'm her magical guardian. And I need to check on my ward Ms. Wiggens." The headmaster urged, and I rolled my eyes.
There's no kinda kill like overkill I guess.
"Headmaster!" I clip out, drawing his attention from the healer, allowing her to scurry away.
"Ah! Mr. Byrne. Forgive me, but I'm rather preoccupied with a separate task at the moment, so If you'll excuse me . . ." He tried to dismiss me only for a large portal to form behind me.
Throwing my hands forward, the portal lurches forward swallowing both myself and Dumbledore.
Our surroundings shifted to red dunes and rocky terrain, a shimmering dome forms above us and encasing the two of us in a fifty-foot circle.
Dumbledore was not idle during this, whipping his wand out and dropping to a dueling stance at a speed unseen in a man typically his age.
Dodging out of the way of a red spell, I clench my fist and thrust it at the head master.
[Fist]
A spell that mimics the simple act of punching.
An ethereal fist slams into the headmaster's shield, causing it to shatter, but caused my spell to dissipate as well, prompting me to cock an eyebrow.
Ah fuck . . .
The Elder Wand.
One of the three artifacts of death, and the most powerful wand in this universe.
Supposedly makes its owner neigh unbeatable in a duel.
"Before you continue to curse me, how about checking where you are first?" I comment, pointing up at the sky.
This caused the headmaster to keep his eyes on me, but his wand twitched as he cast another spell. Only for its result to bring confusion.
Cautiously looking up at the star filled sky, realization slowly dawned on him as he spotted a familiar little marble up above.
"Welcome to Mars headmaster. We're the first two humans on this planet, and we are about to hold the first come to Jesus meeting that this planet has ever seen."
Pointing up at the barrier above, I continue my rant; "See that neato little barrier above us? I created that, and filled it with enough oxygen for just the two of us. If you so much as cause me harm, or irritate my sensibilities enough, I won't hesitate to leave you to the unforgiving reality of going for a spacewalk without a space suit." I threaten, and I see his grip on his wand tighten.
"Why have you brought me here?" He demanded, all traces of his grandfatherly figure gone.
"You have no idea? You came running as soon as Ms. Figg noticed something was wrong." I name drop, and he lets out a tired sigh.
"Arabella was always a little slow on the uptake . . ." He started, before I interrupted.
"So it takes eight years for her to realize that her family near beat her to death?!" I roared scathingly, and he paled.
"How about I go down the list, and you can let me know if you recognize them." I state, a hard light screen appearing in front of me.
"September 13th, 1983. Two fractured ribs, a concussion, and lacerations across her back." I spit out, watching the blood drain from his face further.
"T-they wouldn't do that. Petunia is her aunt after all . . ." he protests, as I continue.
"December 9th, 1983. Multiple arm fractures, a broken nose, black eyes, and a fractured skull . . ." I continue listing off the long list of atrocities spanning her time spent with her family.
Every single entry caused Dumbledore to wilt even more before he spoke again; "Please stop Mr. Byrne . . ."
"Why? I'm only five years in. This shouldn't come as a surprise headmaster. Haven't you been getting your reports?" I rip into him, only receiving silence in return.
"Quite frankly headmaster, I don't think you should be let near children ever again with this level of blatant negligence. But that is not for me to decide . . ." I elaborate, fixing him under my gaze.
"But what I can control, is if you ever go near Ms. Potter again, I will make this little adventure seem like a field trip, as I will personally drag you to hell to experience tortures beyond the realm of human comprehension." I threaten, my voice taking on a demonic tinge, before I open a portal underneath the headmaster, and dump him back at Hogwarts.
Well . . . fifty feet above the lake anyway.
[You all right Tavish?]
I sigh in frustration, and run my hand through my hair before responding.
No, I'm not. I want to kill the little shit, but there are too many witnesses with an eye on my activities. I wanted to kill a lot of shit today, but again, same problem.
[Well, most of the world you visited thus far were a lot more "violent" in comparison.]
I guess . . .
Falling back onto the red sands, I stare up at the earth in the distance as I quietly decompress.
[I do have an idea that would cheer you up.]
Oh yeah?
[You've got quite the stash of Gacha tokens just laying around . . .]
Going completely still, I sit up rapidly, and dump a handful out of my inventory.
[Dwarf] (Race) (Common)
[World Token: Fallout] (Rare)
[Zombie Cat] (Common)
[Volcanoid's Blueprint Pack x 5] (Rare)
[Helldiver's Blueprint Pack x 5] (Rare)
[Space Rig] (Epic)
[Perk: Magic Maker] (Epic)
[20-pound bag of concrete] (Common)
[A dead rat] (Junk)
[Class: Sage] (Common)
[5,000-pounds of petrified mammoth shit] (Junk)
[Armored Core Blueprint Pack x 5] (Rare)
A mix of both good and bad . . .
Ah well, I'll sort through that later.
The Blueprints pique my interest but I have a protagonist to resettle.
And a family to explain the situation to . . .
That always makes for fun conversation starters.
[Omake: Looting, Shooting, and tripping lemon drops . . .]
[Tavish POV]
Hoisting my sack over my shoulder, I drag it through Dumbledore's now barren study.
I was still pissed at the fucker from earlier so I decided to engage in one of my least violent stress releasing hobbies.
Stealing shit.
Dumble's was out at a meeting of some sort, so I had free reign to his office for a hot minute.
Glancing over the few remaining artifacts in the room, my eyes land on the large bowl full of lemon drops.
[Bowl of Replenishment] (Epic)
An artifact that refills itself with whatever fills it every twenty-four hours. The item within must be consumable in nature.
Dumping all the lemon drops on the floor, I run my eyes over the engravings around the edge, before a flash of fire appears off to my left.
My head snaps to the side as I lock eyes with the large phoenix that was watching me with a wary eye.
He screeched once, and it took me a couple of seconds to process his complaint.
"Ah, fuck, sorry." I apologize, setting the loot sack down, and fishing around until I came out with a very large, ornate stand.
Fumbling around for the tray that catches the ash when he molts, I glance back at the bowl of replenishment before something clicks.
Setting up Fawkes's perch, I set the bowl under the stand under the watchful eye of the phoenix, before I reach into my inventory and pull out a large baggie and dump it into the bowl.
Fawkes flies over and pokes the odd mix of flowers stems and leaves and looks at me inquisitively.
"Don't worry buddy. All I'm going to say is you'll probably enjoy your next burning day." I cheerfully inform, as he ruffles his feathers in response.
[Time Skip]
[Dumbledore POV]
Walking back into my office, a cloying skunk smell suffused the room, and a very fat, and cheerful phoenix was laying on the floor.
Fawkes looked up at me sleepily, before lazily rolling over.
This was the fourth time I've found him like this since the robbery a month ago.
The time between Fawkes's burning days had drastically shortened from once a year, to once a month or less.
Each time, I came back to my office with the room filled with smoke, and Fawkes was eating something of some sort.
Judging by the packets scattered around the catatonic bird, I think he robbed a muggle convenience store for packets of crisps.
The source of the damnable smoke was the plant in the bowl that Fawkes now guarded voraciously.
I tried to get professor sprout to identify the herb, but she simply grinned and reprimanded me, claiming that she didn't partake while on the job.
I really wish she was more concise with that statement, but I had bigger problems.
The company that made my bowl of replenishment wouldn't be able to send me another for several years, as many of the materials that made it were rarities, but it was still easier to order it than having to fight a phoenix for the bowl.
Sighing, I massage my forehead as I look over my still barren study.
I need some damn lemon drops . . .
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
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