Chapter: 25

A/n: Thanks to those of you who reviewed

Remember when I said there were going to be ten chapters left? Like on Chapter Twenty? I lied. They’ll be more. How much more? It’s hard to say, I’ll let you know for sure when the time gets closer. As for how long Harry will spend with the assassins (chapter wise) maybe about two or three. Not much. Plus I’ll add a bit what’s happening in the wizarding world.

Also... I've had countless of people ask.. yes, all these chapter titles are from Evanescence... I wrote a disclaimer for that in chapter six I think.

Chapter Twenty Five: Here in the Shadows

“Regulus?”

It wasn’t the Regulus he’d seen in pictures, and it certainly wasn’t whom Harry would imagine if he’d ever picture Regulus as a grown man. His mother and most the Black’s always claimed how much Harrison had looked like Regulus. Sirius, Regulus’ own brother, had said that Harrison looked like a more…beautiful, softer version of Regulus. And seeing Regulus, or, this man Harry assumed would be Regulus, Harry couldn’t really agree…

The man was cold. His face was fuller than any aristocratic Black Harry knew. Although the man was handsome, he looked… rough, cold, and cruel. His eyes were a dark green, almost black in color, like Bellatrix’s. Not bright green like they used to be. Harry supposed Regulus did look like a Black, but he didn’t look like Harrison, more like a grim Sirius. And what made the picture even more eerie...

There was no Seer mark on Regulus’ cheek.

And Harry knew his cousin was a Seer. Perhaps not a full fledged Seer, but he had practiced Seer magic…there should have been at least a silver or gold mark on his cheek.

The man’s lips gave a lifeless grin. “Yes, cousin, I am Regulus, often called Master Black to the new recruits.” He stepped forward, closer to Harry. His eyes drank in his form, studying him. “You’re a little small…smaller than I thought you’d be. But you do look more like a Black than any Malfoy.”

“So I’ve been told,” Harry frowned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the overused phrase. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were dead. Sirius and my-,” he paused, breathing deeply. “Narcissa said you were dead. By the Assassin Guild, no less.”

Regulus grinned coldly. “I am dead, in a way, if you will.” His voice was silky and deep, almost like Voldemort’s. The man lifted his top lip and then Harry saw the sharp incisors in the man’s mouth.

Vampire. Harry tensed up, knowing already that most the Assassin Guild was made up of vampires. It had to be expected that he would encounter them here. He’d been prepared for it, even, but he hadn’t been prepared to see Regulus as one when the man was supposed to be dead.

Regulus chuckled darkly, stepping out of the light and deeper into the shadows. “The Guild allowed me time alone with you. They aren’t very big on special treatment when it comes to students, but when it involves family; I can’t seem to agree with that rule.” Harry tensed when he felt Regulus standing next to him. He hadn’t even heard any steps or breathing, or even a rustle of clothing. “Come now, let’s go for a walk. We have much to catch up with.”

Harry blindly made his way through the dark after picking up the abandoned dagger. Even if he was known for his grace, it was nothing compared to Regulus. The man was stealth, silent. The corridor they came up upon was cold and made of stone. “This is where the new recruits stay,” dark eyes flashed in his direction. “You’ll be staying down here, sleeping somewhere cold…and alone…” Regulus spoke sinisterly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, not daunted by the attempt to scare him. “And it’s amazing, really, I have magic, I will be able to sleep warm.”

“Ah,” Regulus cocked his head. “I’m afraid magic is forbidden in the sleeping chambers, especially the first stage of training. You’ll learn to live cold.” Regulus led Harry away from the cold underground dungeons and up the stairs to a warmer part of the castle. “This first stage, we usually weed out the weak. We will test your skill in defense and martial arts. And more importantly,” Regulus reached over to tap Harry’s head. The finger was cold and hard. “We’ll test your mentality; how strong you are, how dedicated…”

Incisors flashed in a smile again. It was a cold smile and Harry couldn’t feel one emotion coming off from Regulus. “The first stage is the longest and the most difficult. After the first stage, you’ll be an assassin; you’ll be one of our members.”

“Our members?” Harry whispered, finally taking a good look at Regulus. In the warmer part of the castle, more candles were lit, allowing Harry to see the elaborate and stiff robes of his cousin. His eyes widened. “You’re part of the Guild.” His robes were black with a high blue collar. On his chest, there were badges of his rank.

For assassins there were three groups of rankings. The lowest were just assassins, warriors and something Harry would even be proud of if he completed. In fact, he didn’t want to be anything higher than a normal assassin. Second in ranking, were members of the Guild, the council, if you will. They were in charge of the assassins’ training. And lastly, there was the Head and his Hand. As their names entitled, the Head was the ruler of the Assassin Guild and his Hand, or right hand man, was second.

Judging from the markings of Regulus’ robes, Harry gathered his cousin was part of the Guild. “I am,” Regulus gave a sharp nod, sweeping around the corner and up another set of stone steps. They didn’t move magically like Hogwarts and they were a long way up. “I train the new recruits.”

“Will you be training me?” Each member of the Guild was assigned an apprentice, a student.

“No,” Regulus gave a smile without humor. “Let me tell you a quick story, Harrison, before we part ways.” Regulus caressed the wooden banister, staring up ahead with a void like expression on his face. “When I was younger, around your age, I had Seer powers, just like you. I wasn’t full fledged as you are, mind, but I still had a few fuzzy visions here and there.” The man murmured. “I always saw a young boy in my visions and eventually, I learned he was you.”

Harry remained silent, knowing it was inconvenient to interrupt. “I had no idea why I would always envision you. Overtime, I was smart enough to realize you were the future son of Narcissa and Lucius. I know a lot about you, about how you grew up… you were a lot like me.” Harry looked over at Regulus as the man’s eyes glanced at him. “No matter how much you tried, it seemed as if your father would never actually see you. My own father favored Sirius over me, just because Sirius was the chosen Heir, the oldest. Even when my older brother went into Gryffindor, it was all my parents could talk about.

“They never saw me.”

Harry looked down, finally coming on the top of the stairs. Although Regulus was recounting something painful, his voice was void and a mater of fact. It disturbed him… he knew assassins were known for their cold interiors and exteriors, but he was surprised to find Regulus so…cold. After all, he’d been a Seer.

“At the time, I drove myself insane to try to make them look at me. I did things just to please them; I did everything so they would see me instead of Sirius.” Regulus motioned Harry to another flight of staircases. “You’ve probably already heard most of this. Or perhaps you haven’t.”

“Sirius told me, actually.” Harry replied. “He feels guilty over your death. He believes he was the one to drive you to the Assassin Guild, to get you killed.”

Regulus remained silent for a long while. Harry studied his face. The man had a stubble goatee on his face, hiding the scars Harry could faintly see. “Really?” Regulus sounded interested. A bored interested. “When I was young, Sirius didn’t give a damn.” Matter of fact.

“We all grow older sometime,” Harry whispered hoarsely. “Sirius is just taking a little longer than others.”

The man gave a quiet chuckle. “The reason why I tell you this, Harrison, is because I know how much we’re alike. I never understood why I had visions of you until now. You’re here, with me. So alike me, yet so different.” Regulus stopped, turning to stand in front of Harry. “I gave Narcissa my assassin dagger, trusting her that she would know what to do with it. Luckily, she gave it to you. You were destined to come here, Harrison… being here, you’ll affect many people around you. That is why I have to ask you this just this once…”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his head barely reaching the man’s shoulder. “I’ll give you a chance to turn back around.” Regulus said in all seriousness. “Your stay here won’t be easy, I’ll tell you that much, so decide now if you want to go back.”

“I’d like to stay here, Master Black.” The man studied him silently before giving him a predatory smile. He whirled around, continuing forward. Harry followed, keeping his chin up. It was peculiar to know that Regulus had visions of him as a child. It was even more unusual that Harrison was destined to be here. Then why did he feel so… anxious? Why was he second guessing himself? Granted, a part of him wanted to be here, to get away from everything and to become stronger.

“You’re a full fledged Seer,” Regulus pointed out.

Harry smirked. “And it’ll stay that way.”

The man gave a cold smile, reaching out to pat Harry on the back a little hesitantly. “I’m counting on that.”

“Look at this, Regulus Black is actually smiling? With a recruit?” A voice jeered from the shadows. Harry calmly veered his stare to the shadows, watching as two men stepped out into the light. Like Regulus, the one who had spoken had the same ranking on his robes, and a heavy sneer on his face. The one next to him, on the other hand, had far more ranking on his chest while his high collar was gold. Harry couldn’t help but to stare at him.

The man was tall and thin, like most stereotypical vampires. His dark blonde hair was short and side swept, covering most of his right side of his face, including his eye. The eye that was uncovered was a bright yellow, so cold and piercing, Harry had to look away.

He was struggling with this new environment. Back home, he was recognized as powerful and high up in society, but here, here, he was a low ranking recruit, a nothing to these men. Harrison knew that he had to keep his head down during his stay here. Although he had more than enough magic to defend himself, these men were quicker and far more creative. And if Harry made an enemy out of them, his whole life would be spent in paranoia.

When he went back home he could point his nose in the air in arrogance and order people around… and until that time, Harry vowed he would make himself stronger. Because he knew that the war was going to be a long and hard path, the light may have its slumps now, with the Headmaster and Longbottom out of the picture,but they would rise above it and tower over the dark wizards… becoming a threat.

“Harrison, I’d like you to meet Master Sepster,” Regulus nodded his head to the one who had spoken up. “And the Hand, Master Keiran.” Harry allowed his eyes to study the Hand, the second in command. The man was a complete wall of stone. Nothing but power showed through. The yellow eye stared back at him, sizing him up. “And Sepster, Master Keiran, I’d like you to meet Harrison Malfoy, my cousin and the new recruit.”

Sepster, a dark haired man stepped closer, grinning in sick amusement. “This is Master Keiran’s new pupil?” Harrison narrowed his eyes. “I’m afraid that you won’t be winning this year, Master, with all due respect, of course.”

“Leave us; I’d like a word with my student.” Keiran stepped forward, eye still on Harrison.

Regulus hesitated, pursing his lips. Dark green eyes glanced at Harry and then bowed quickly at the waist, turning his heel to leave. Harry was slightly disappointed. There were still many things he wanted to know about Regulus.

And then… it was just Keiran and him. Harry kept his back straight, falling into his pureblood role. His face was motionless and nonchalant as he felt Keiran circle him. “This is what I have to work with?” the man whispered in disappointment. His hand reached out with quick reflexes and pushed at Harry’s back. The Malfoy child stumbled forward, doing all he could to keep on his feet.

“You’re weak,”

“You’re small…”

Harry grounded his teeth as he stiffened again, this time, keeping himself sturdy. “I can see that you’re arrogant,” Keiran whispered, coming around to face him. Harry met the stare straight on, looking closer at the man. For a second in command of the Assassin Guild, the man looked young. Perhaps early twenties. But of course, that didn’t mean anything. The man was a vampire and could be centuries of years old.

The right side of his face was mostly covered by his dirty blonde hair, but on the edges, Harry could see the scars near his nose, near his right eye. He knew, without a doubt, that the man’s right eye was perhaps destroyed or disfigured. It had to be. There was no reason why the man would cover it if it weren’t.

“I can see that you have too many emotions,” a hand shot out, snatched his arm, and yanked him forward. Harry stumbled into Keiran, being held up by his arm. “A full fledged Seer as well…” Keiran lifted his lip. “Interesting…”

“Oh it is,” Harry whispered back, feeling himself rise up to the onslaught of insults. “You have no idea what I can do.”

Keiran tisked, shaking his head and tightening his hold on Harry’s slim wrist, threatening him with a tight hold. “Then why are you here? If you are so great, how are you supposed to improve yourself with that frame of mind? Hm?” Harry stared in the yellow eye, feeling no ounce of emotion coming from the vampire. Something curled in Harry’s stomach as he kept eye contact. Keiran had a strong stare, an intimidating stare.

Eventually, he dropped his eyes to the ground. “Because I know I need to improve.”

The vampire huffed, letting his arm go harshly. “Then lose that arrogance, child.” Child. Child. Again, it was that… that insult.

Harry grimaced but remained quiet. “I am your Master for now and forever. You’ll either die before you can be considered an assassin, or you’ll die as a proud assassin- but I will still be your Master.” The man walked deeper into the shadows, leaving Harry in the torch light. “You’ll address me as only ‘Master’; when you’ve earned my respect you may call me Mater Keiran. And if I’m pleased with you, I will address you by your given name.”

Harry faced forward, deciding not to search the darkness like an idiot when he wouldn’t even be able to see the man. “In these next few weeks, or hours, if you survive long enough, we’ll get to know each other extremely well.”

Harry smirked.

“Is something amusing?”

“No Master,” Harry intoned.

“Oh, but judging from that foolish smile on your face, I would think that I have said something that is amusing to you.” There was a hard edge to the vampire’s voice but Harry couldn’t be intimidated. Not when he’d been around the Dark Lord for the better part of his life.

“I just find it humorous that you think we’ll get to know each other.”

“And why is that?”

“Simply because we won’t,” Harry cocked his head to the side. “You’ll be getting to know my weaknesses and strengths and I’ll be getting to know you’re limits and you’re knowledge. It’s strictly professional, Master, not at all personal.” And where had he heard that before? Ah yes, he’d said it to Voldemort when he first met the man.

Keiran stepped from the shadows, his yellow gaze burning. “If you’d like to think that, child, then go right on ahead. But I’ll be finding everything out about you, whether you like it or not.” Harry scoffed mentally. There would be no way in hell he’d be telling this vampire anything about himself. “Come; let me show you to your rooms.”

The man swept off, becoming nothing but a black wisp in the shadows. Harry all but jogged after him. Vampires. Harry briefly wondered how Seer affected vampires. Seer affected every magical creature, including vampires. But he had to remind himself that these weren’t normal vampires. These were assassins, trained to feel no emotion, but a drive to kill and succeed. It was kind of like Remus compared to Fenrir and his pack. Only… the vampires would represent an even calmer and tamed Lupin.

Harry frowned as he was led away from the cold chambers. “Regulus,” he cleared his throat. “Master Black told me I’d be sleeping further downstairs in the dungeons.”

He could feel Keiran’s eyes on him even if he couldn’t see them. “And is Master Black your Master?” Harry remained quiet. “As much as I’d like to see you suffer, I’d rather not have a protege with stiff joints the next morning due to a cold night sleep.” A door flew open next to Harry and torches lit up automatically. “Go on. I’ll wake you bright and earlier, sunshine.” Keiran mocked, all but pushing Harry in the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

A lock sounded, locking him inside. Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering if his magic could open the lock, but he’d rather not test Keiran’s patience right now. Not when he just got here, at least.

Harry looked at the small bed. The room wasn’t very…extravagant. But he shouldn’t be comparing to his room in the Malfoy manor. The walls were stone and the floor was pebbled with bricks and rocks. It was slightly cold, but the fireplace at the end of the room gave off a warm glow.

Slipping out of his shoes, he sat on the edge of the bed, blinking at the flames. He allowed his face to drop, and his shoulders to slump. This was difficult. And he hadn’t even started training yet.

He ran a palm across his face, closing his eyes briefly and breathing heavily through his nose. He had yet to mourn his mother, he had yet to think of Voldemort or his family… hell, the werewolves had been last on his mind as he hurried off to the funeral. They hadn’t been happy, or rather, Greyback hadn’t been happy, but he agreed to continue their agreement once he got back. If he got back. Until then, they would undesirably follow Voldemort.

Harry took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Voldemort had come for him. He hadn’t expected that to happen. He’d thought that once the Dark Lord gained Longbottom, the man wouldn’t think to leave his newly acquainted pet. But he had and it was almost if he…cared. Harry shook his head on that, not understanding the man. Voldemort was… it was almost if he were finally learning. The Dark Lord was wise beyond his years, but not wise with humanity. Was Harry actually getting through to him?

He would have to wait until he got back. It was no use thinking over the werewolves and Voldemort when he was…Merlin knows where.

His ‘plan’ for revenge hadn’t gone as planned. Well, perhaps for Longbottom and Dumbledore, but his plan to destroy Voldemort was abandoned once he saw the blood on his hands from Dumbledore and the death of his mother. No matter how much he’d like to pull away from Voldemort and ignore the man, he could never commit infidelity or betray him. He had wanted to kill the Dark Lord and let the man come back on his own through one of his many Horcruxes. But he didn’t go through with it, he couldn’t.

When he had been on the roof, after his mother died, the Dark Lord had showed up, almost as if he sensed that Harry needed someone. And he had. Voldemort was there for him. The man was lenient and he listened. He never argued, or spoke when Harry wanted someone to listen.

“You’re messing with my head,” Harry declared tiredly.

Through those events, Harry realized that Voldemort could never truly ‘say’ sorry, instead, he’d show through actions.

Harry stood up; looking down at his formal robes he’d worn to the funeral. Originally, he wanted to become an assassin in the summer, after his revenge. But he had to move everything forward after his mother died. His emotions were haywire and he’d been weak. Coming here, to the assassins, he believed they could help him concentrate himself on something other than her death.

But it wasn’t just about Narcissa. He wanted to be here to become better, stronger. He’d always been a curious person. All his life, ever since Narcissa had given him the dagger, he’d been curious about assassins. And the drive to become one had grown when he found out Seer and assassins didn’t mix. And even more so once he learned that Regulus had failed to do the same thing he wanted to achieve.

And all that drive, had finally come. Now was the time to prove to himself that he could surpass all those fears and do something he’d always wanted to do. If he succeeded, he’d be proud of himself and focus on the next task.

Becoming an assassin, he’d be able to fight in every possible way. Already, he could fight with his Seer, mentally and emotionally, and he could also use his raw magic... But he had yet to fight physically and of stealth. Assassins weren’t exactly dominant creatures, they probably would have trouble against a crowd of wizards, but they were shadows, completely powerful in their own right. They weren’t meant for a large battle, full of people, they were meant for slyness and secrecy.

And they did it elegantly.

And Regulus told him he was meant to be here. He Saw it happen. His cousin, who was still a complete mystery to him, envisioned Harry here. There was some purpose of him being here, one that Harry would need to find out later on in his stay.

Staying here, Harry was ready for this unknown.

He was ready to face it head on and exceed to the best of his abilities.

Looking around the small room, Harry threw himself on the bed and tried to force himself to sleep.

--SSC--

Another shoulder knocked him, causing Harry to lurch forward in his seat, gathering himself up. He glared over his shoulder at the large body that had bumped into his. All morning, it had been this way. He’d received envious looks, murderous looks… he didn’t understand. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

After Keiran had picked him up, literally, by the robes, and thrown him into a cold shower, fully clothed, Harry was thrown a pair of robes. Keiran said they were ‘beginner’ or ‘apprentice’ robes. They were nothing but a black pair of robes with a gold tassel around the waist and black slacks. And then his ‘Master’ had motioned with his hand the way to the cafeteria. When Harry had entered the dark and small room, he had grabbed his oatmeal and sat down at a rugged table by himself. He wasn’t looking to make friends, but he would have liked to know why the other pupils there were hostile towards him.

There were about twenty students in the small room that housed the kitchen. Each of them had the same black robes as himself, but everyone had a different color tassel across their waist. Harry himself, had a bright gold. He wasn’t stupid. He had seen Keiran’s gold around his collar and knew the tassels corresponded with the Master.

“They’re just jealous that you’re getting trained by the Hand.”

Harry looked up from his bland oatmeal. “Excuse me?” he eyed the boy standing across from him. He was around Harrison’s age, if not a little older. But in the dark room, it was hard to tell. He didn’t understand why the castle was so dark all the time, perhaps to add an element of mystery. The candle in front of him allowed him to see the boy’s lazy smirk.

The boy invited himself to sit down, moving the hair from his bright blue eyes by shaking his head. “Master Keiran, of course… He hasn’t taken on an apprentice for a long while. But the students he takes on, usually end up as victorious assassins, most of them becoming part of the Guild.”

“Ah,” Harry eyed the dark blue tassel across the boy’s waist. “And who is your Master?”

The boy smiled. “Master Black, of course. He told me to make associates with you.” Harry felt a brief pang of envy. “The name is Alex, by the way.” He held out a hand and Harry stared at it, blinking. “I’m new here, just like you.”

“You’re too friendly to become an assassin,” Harry took the hand, squeezing it. The boy winced slightly.

“And you’re too small to become an assassin.” Alex shot back, squeezing his hand back. “Master Black ordered for me and you to get along. Quite frankly, you could use someone to watch your back with how many enemies you already have. After all, they’re asking why you, of all people, would get the Hand as a Master. You’re nothing special, no offense.”

Harry gave a sarcastic smile, looking back down at his oatmeal. The boy, Alex, was far taller than him and more muscular. Harry wouldn’t doubt that the other students here would be suspicious and jealous. Quite frankly, Harry was envious at Alex to have Regulus, his own cousin, as a Master. He didn’t know why he had the Hand as a Master, but Regulus seemed to know. And from the way things looked, it would be awhile before they could come in contact with one another.

“So,” Alex cupped his own bowl in his hands. “Do you know the basics about the place?” Harry remained silent, looking over Alex’s shoulder at the vampires who had entered. In particular, he watched Keiran enter, looking proud and indestructible. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Keiran and the other members of the Guild calmly sat at their own table, a distance away from the students. His master’s eye swept across the room at him before looking away nonchalantly. Harry pursed his lips, wondering what was in their mugs. No doubt blood. After all, even cold hearted assassin vampires had to replenish with blood as nutrients and supplements.

“No,” he whispered.

Alex took his answer as a cue to continue talking. “Not many people make it as assassins. They usually are killed by the Guild for being weak or not the right fit for an assassin, or they are killed by the other students here.” Alex grinned, almost if he were excited over this prospect. “All of us students are humans.” The boy leaned closer and Harry sneered at the proximity. “Did you know that if you become a member of the Guild, they turn you into a vampire?”

Harry considered this. “No, I didn’t know that.” He knew most of them were vampires, he hadn’t known that they turned each member.

“And the assassins are human,” Alex shrugged looking down at his bowl of lump. “I think that’s unfair.”

“Why?” Harry queried. “Assassins are lower then the Guild. Of course they wouldn’t get the privilege of becoming a vampire.” Harry wouldn’t want to become one, he couldn’t, not with his Seer. That, and the fact that vampires couldn’t cast magic once they were turned. But they didn’t need magic. They were incredibly fast and strong, it would be difficult to fight off a vampire, even with magic. Alex remained silent and Harry’s lips twisted in a smile. “You want to become a vampire then? And you don’t think you’ll make it to the Guild?”

Alex shrugged, not commenting on Harry perspective of him. “There are also weekly matches between a few students who want to challenge one another. I heard that the Masters like to get one over on each other so they challenge each other’s student in a match.” Harry grinned at that. It was hard to believe that cold and unemotional vampires taunted one another with who had the better apprentice. “Sometimes, students die in the match.”

Harry frowned when he felt Alex’s emotions spike with pleasure and sadistic glee. The boy was a loose nut; Harry could clearly see there was more behind this boy than his innocent smile and ‘kindness’.

The boy leaned back, taking a spoon and shoveling his oatmeal in his mouth. “What are you anyway? Some sort of royal Veela?” Harry scoffed, giving the boy a scathing look as the blue eyes traced him and his mark.

“Veela are fair, I have dark coloring. I’m a Seer.” He raised his eyebrows. “You probably don’t know what they are, and I don’t feel inclined to explain it to you.”

Alex chewed the oatmeal. “Seer, obviously… they ‘see’ visions. You don’t need to explain it to me.” Harry gave a thin smile, pleased. Let the little boy think that’s all Seer did. He would have to bet that most of these ‘students’ in here didn’t know what a Seer was or what they did. Actually, he knew that no one knew the true extents of power the Seer held.

“Are all these students wizards?” he glanced around the room, not seeing many powerful auras.

“Most of them,” Alex agreed. “But some are Squibs. The Guild doesn’t allow magic here anyway, not at first, at least.” A heavy body sat itself down next to Harrison. Alex tensed up after giving a quick glance at the one whom had made his presence known. Harry watched Alex burry his face in his bowl, not at all speaking or making any sudden movements.

Feeling the stare on the side of his face, Harry lazily moved his eyes to meet hard brown. The body sitting next to him was heavy, possible almost as tall and burly as Hagrid would have been in his younger teens. “Hello,” the boy smiled, showing a missing tooth in the front of his mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrow, uninterestedly. “Pleasure,” with that, he turned away from the boy, ignoring him entirely. His Seer told him this boy was ‘trouble’, a cruel soul. And Harry wouldn’t lick the floor the boy walked on like the rest of the students probably did. Judging from the way most of the kitchen grew quiet; Harry knew they had been talking about him, which caused for this small giant to come over here. To test him.

“You look a little young,” the boy continued.

“Probably just as old as you are,” Harry commented back. He looked over at the few members of the Guild, noticing that Keiran was becoming aware of the situation. The bastard, he was probably looking forward to off Harry as soon as he could. Harry directed his stare at the over large boy next to him. “Looks can always be deceiving,” he whispered.

The boy smiled, showing his disfigured teeth. “Looks… it looks like a pretty boy like you shouldn’t be here. Things can get a little lonely here and the only use pretty little boys have around here is to entertain us, bigger, and better men.” Harry narrowed his eyes at the leer.

Both of them acted at the same time.

Harry could see it coming as the boy reached over and grabbed his crotch. He didn’t get a very long feel, for Harry acted just as quickly. His fingers closed around the candle, tearing it off the table and pressing the flame and hot wax into the boy’s hand.

With a pleased laugh, Harry watched as the boy gave a pained moan. He deliberately spread the candle around, making sure to smear it up the boy’s wrist as well. It wouldn’t do much damage, but the boy’s hand would be incapable to use for a short while without magic to heal it.

Little giant, what Harry would call the kid from now on, bared his teeth in a hiss and struck out with his other hand. It barely missed as Harry ducked. Alex jumped up, backing away from the table as little giant all but roared and erupted from his seat. His hand was ugly red and shiny with wax slowly dipping down the swollen appendage.

With a blind rage, the boy attacked an amused Harry. The students all stayed sitting, not at all interested in stepping in and helping out, nor where they standing and cheering like Harry had thought they would. They watched the two with their eyes, murmuring amongst each other. Harry ducked once again, relying on his reflexes to protect him.

“By the way you’re acting; I’m guessing you get rejections a lot.” Harry taunted; ducking underneath another fist.

“You little bastard,” little giant salivated. “You’ll bloody pay for that!” All but dancing around the boy, Harry guessed that little giant had been here for perhaps a few weeks if not a few days. This wasn’t assassin material and Harry had a feeling little giant wouldn’t make it as an assassin.

Before he could duck again, a hand came out and stopped the fist straight on. Harry blinked, seeing Keiran standing partially in front of him, holding the little giant’s fist as if it hadn’t come at him with any force. Without so much as a struggle, Keiran twisted the boy’s hand, snapping it effortlessly. Little giant fell to the floor, all but whimpering in pain.

“Ayden,” Keiran barked softly, looking over Harry’s head at the Guild members. “Show your apprentice the correct way to act. Groping men in public is a far cry from proper, have a little more tact.” A vampire, Harry assumed to be Ayden, got up and bowed lowly at the wait.

“Yes, Master, of course.”

Keiran then turned his gaze downward on Harry. “Come,” without waiting for a reply, the vampire swept from the room, every gaze on his back. Harry threw one last look at the broken arm of little giant and followed. The gazes on his back weren’t as respecting and intimidated as Keiran’s were, no, Harry could feel the hostile loathing.

“We’ll need to give you physical, after which, I will begin training you.”