He With The Jewel Eyes // A Grey Harry Potter - Time Travel AU

Omake/Extra (Harry's Past Life)

Another slash of a knife, another cut in the soft flesh of a man, another spurt of blood, dying the pavement below crimson as the dying body fell, eyes unfocused and breathing erratic. The sharp smell of iron enveloped the air, and the man took a step backwards, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his sullied knife clean.

It was only a second later that something unintelligible was muttered, and power surged, the handkerchief suddenly becoming completely white again, no trace of blood to be found.

The man placed his knife back in its holster after the shocking display of Wandless Magic, a feat that would render many immobile in awe. He did not seem to care much about his stunt, though, as he stared at the corpse beneath his feet with an emotionless face, as if wondering what he should do with it.

His thoughts seemed to be over, as he slipped his wand into his hand, and aimed it to the lifeless bag of flesh and bones with a quick adjustment of his arm, his quick movements indicating he had done this many times before.

His lips parted slightly, and a whisper of an incantation escaped them, a sound so light it was carried away with the winter wind without even reaching the man's own ears, dissolving less than a millisecond after its emergence.

"Incendio."

A reddish light was emitted from the tip of the wand, meeting the corpse's jacket and setting it aflame as a result. It started as a small fire, only enough to light a cigar, and yet a minute later, it had covered the jacket fully, crackling majestically.

The man watched as the corpse was burned away slowly, the stench of cooked flesh dismissed by his nose, eyes glued tightly on the source of light and heat in front of him, warming his body. His eyes glowed a brilliant green, with its centre mirroring the fire, truly a beautiful combination of colours.

An exhale left his body, chilling immediately and turning visible, and accompanied by the melodic crackling of the fire, the man who was stabbing someone minutes ago looked almost peaceful.

The timeless moment was lost when the sound of a broken branch came from nearby, and the man's head snapped towards it, eyes narrowing and body tensing.

His wand hand clenched the stick tightly, and he disappeared in a warp of space, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

A man appeared from the shadows, footsteps light, and a hat covering most of his face in a shadow. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and his clothes looked years old.

He started at the still-hot ashes in front of him, defensively silent, then took a puff of his cigarette, exhaling smoke with a sigh.

"So, he has done it again, that boy." His tone wasn't happy nor said, but a slight exasperation mixed in could be heard if one listened closely enough.

The man stood there for a minute or so, before tilting his head upwards, his eyes trailing from constellation to constellation painted on the black sky above.

"What a burden he has on his shoulders," he said out loud, and as nobody was around, it seemed he was talking to himself. He shook his head in thought. "What mistakes we have made, for such a young boy to turn to this."

He stayed like that for some time, before closing his eyes. With a final tired sigh, he turned around and walked away, a slight sway to his steps.

Left behind was a piece of parchment that had fallen from his pocket, words scribbled with ink on top of the old and ripped paper.

'Take care of him for me.

Signed , Sirius Black'

The man hadn't even noticed the absence of the parchment when it fell on the ashes and curled upon itself, slowly charring and blackening.

He hadn't been able to. Not before, not now, especially since the boy didn't trust anyone anymore.

Harry Potter was a shell of his former self now, and the man could not do anything to stop it.

The night continued silently as the wind swept up the ashes and carried them away gently, removing the final pieces of evidence of the recent manslaughter except for the blood.

The blood would stay there until the rain started and washed it away, wiping the sullied pavement clean of its history once again.

Yet one more man had been ended by the hands of a young green-eyed boy, but the world went on without knowing.