DevSagittariusBlack
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Merc with a Mouth; Ch 01: The Boy-Who-Lost
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 12:58:00 +0000 UTCHello and Welcome to another one of my fictitious attempt in spinning a tale with JKR's characters. This is a work of fiction and has no resemblance to living or dead. The Characters are from JKR's Harry Potter Franchise and I am just using it to make another story that is probably better than canon.
Pairing: Not decided. Smut is present with multiple partners.
Fandom: Harry Potter only.
This will be my primary fanfic (Like Innovator), and I really hope you will like it.
Do tell me how it is and if you want more. Character sketches will be uploaded soon.
Also, many thanks and congratulations to our seven holders of the Guildmaster tier: Camo, I am Lord Dems, StormFox, RyanMK666, Lyrical , PenguGoesVroom and Hydrus Black!đđĽ°
I really hope you will love and support Merc with a Mouth the same way you have supported INNOVATOR.
Now, without any further ado, let me welcome you to 'Merc with a Mouth'.
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The Merc with a Mouth
-Dev Sagittarius Black
~~Chapter 01: The Boy-Who-Lost~~
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The rays of sunlight flew through the window at the far end of the room as the sun rose and drenched the entire area in a soft golden glow which warmed the occupants that slept peacefully on the bed. Their naked bodies intertwined with each other as their clothes were strewn all over the room, sheets thrown over them while their tangled limbs rubbed against each otherâs skin.
The digital alarm clock at the far end of the room chimed a soft tune to wake-up the inhabitants of the room. A small groan came from the woman as she seemed to be the first one who woke up and groggily reached forward to turn off the alarm. She was about to sit up on the bed when she felt the presence of a strong chest with the hardest muscles she had ever known beneath her face.
Memories of last night came hounding her brain and she smiled when she remembered the events of the last night which had led to her current situation. It was quite a memorable night with lots and lots of twists and turns but the ending had been quite enjoyable and thatâs all that mattered as far as she was concerned.
Elena looked up and saw the man who was sleeping peacefully. His thick jaw line, messy black hairs and an unblemished face. Oh there were scars, but not on his face. The scars littered his strong torso and long legs and if she was honest with herself, they seemed to make him even more sexy as the scars gave him a more manlier look and an almost animalistic thrill.
But most of all, she could feel his most enticing feature rub enthusiastically against her abused nether lips as it stood proudly. She couldnât help but moan as she clenched her legs to trap the delightfully large organ between her thick thighs. Slowly she raised half of herself on his chest and rubbed herself against his hard cock while her index finger traversed the ridge between his chest muscles.
âHaving fun, sweet cheeks?â
She looked up at this amused face as his piercing blue eyes looked in her own chocolate browns. Even the intensity of his gaze did things to her that she had never thought one could do with just one look. She raised herself more and leaned forward to capture his lips in a sweet and long kiss as their tongues fought against each other while she rocked back and forth to maximize the pleasure she felt.
Large hands moved from her back and fell on her bubble butt, the part which had endeared her the nickname âsweet cheeksâ. He squeezed it hard and she moaned in delight before her world shifted as he reversed their position and her back hit the bed with a soft âthumpâ. She groaned a bit pitfully when he moved away from her and started clothing himself.
âSorry, sweet cheeks,â he muttered as he buttoned his plain white shirt and pushed it in his black pants. âI got to do my work now, your husband would be back anytime soon anyways.â
Elena made a face at the reminder that the fat lard would be back and she would have to forgive another one of his transgressions against her. Well, at least this time she got some sweet fun of her own and a damn good one at that all thanks to her idiot husband who decided that it was better to drink and get lucky with a whore down the pub instead of his own wife.
âWill I see you again?â
âYou might, but I doubt that you would like to see me again.â He shrugged at her look of confusion. âI hope you're not a devoted housewife.â And with that he took a look in the body-size mirror on her bedroom wall and cleaned himself up before he took his black jacket and briefcase as he came near her and bent down to look at her face closely.
âEven if we donât meet, I want you to always remember one thing.â
âAnd whatâs it?â She smirked at him as she played with the collar of his shirt.
âThat your husband is a grade A asshole who got what he deserved and you need to take more care of yourself, probably date a guy who knows how to treat an exotic woman like yourself.â She giggled at that as he leaned in to kiss her. When she opened her eyes next, her lover was gone and she already missed the sweet ache that originated from her nether lips.
The man moved out of the house and closed the door behind him. He looked at the building once more before he shook his head and gunned the rented car that he took from the nearby garage. It was time to leave the city and contact his current employer to tell him that his work was done.
Actually, his work had finished last night. But then he had come across the manâs wife who was sitting in the bar a moment ago and was definitely pissed. Well, there was no way in hell that he couldâve missed the opportunity to flex his talents on a grade A MILF like her. So instead of reporting straight to the office, he had decided to take a small detour and seduce the woman before taking her to bed.
Tomorrowâs newspaper will tell everyone that the business tycoon Gerald D. Smith was dead.
There would be police and forensic scientists and there would be a hell lot of commotion. But no one would be able to trace it back to Geraldâs guard Adam. Why? Because there was no one named Adam in the businessmanâs entourage. It was just a common enough name that he had used to get close to the man and finish him off last night.
By now, âAdamâ was sure that the body would be as stiff as his morning wood and as rotten as Geraldâs own mind when the fat lard was alive.
On the way to his office, âAdamâ made a face when he looked in the rear view mirror and saw the skin mask that stuck to him like a second skin. He gently thumbed the mask behind his ear, the point where it was the weakest and could be removed from, and peeled the skin mask off before he swiftly threw it out of the window.
â
Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive were a perfectly normal and happy couple who lived their honest lives and loved each other as well as their little baby Dudders who was busy sucking at his motherâs udders. The littleâa matter of perspective reallyâbaby was enjoying the happy smiles around him as he sucked on the delicious and nutritious drink that he was drinking.
âAtta boy, Dudley!â Vernon Dursley, the patriarch of the Dudley household, barked in appreciation of his sonâs appetite. It seemed that the little tyke had taken after his father in his department and had been blessed with a healthy appetite, something that was filling the walrus mustached man with pride.
âVernon, I think heâs going to drink me dry.â The matriarch, a horse-like woman with the name of Petunia, gushed out with pride.
âOf course! He has a manâs appetite like his dad,â Vernon announced proudfully.
Petunia, on the other hand, was a bit worried that her beautiful son would take after his fatherâs eating habits, but she made up her mind with the small fact that he was her son as well, which means he might take a liking to exercises as well. Which means her son would grow up to be the most handsome man ever, not that he wasnât the most beautiful baby right now.
The two Dursleys were enjoying their family time while they watched the thriller television show that they watched everyday after dinner. Petunia was rocking the large bundle in her arms while Vernon smoked his tobacco from his pipe as he relaxed and tried to forget the weird day that he had to go through.
Bunch of idiots screaming âHURRAH! HEâS DEAD!â and celebrating. Flocks of owls flying all over the nation disrupting the lives of normal people. To him all of this felt like a huge prank by some gang of sorts. Hell, he had seen old men and women with the weirdest dresses and condoms on their noses screaming happily. One of themâprobably a drunkardâeven had the gall to come to him and say something like âYou-Know-Who is dead! Even a muggle like you should be happy and celebrate Pottersâ victory!â
Potter. That name had stuck with him throughout the day. There werenât many with that surname, and he knew it was a surname because he already knew someone with that surname, a certain utterly idiotic and childish man full of pranks and the insane ability to disregard human lives with ease.
Unfortunately, that man was his in-law. James Charlus Potter, husband to his wifeâs sister Lily Evans. They had gone to have dinner with the two weirdos once. Just once! And Vernon had decided that anything with the word âMagicâ was an abomination and the worst thing possible, worse even than the dirty sewage which infested huge amounts of pests and diseases.
Thankfully, his wife had never brought her sister or Potterâs name in their house. Last he knew the Potters had a son named Harry about the same time as they had been blessed with Dudders. Vernon had no doubt that their son would be equally freakish and a weirdo as well no doubt.
Those were his thoughts when all of a sudden the street lights outside his house went off. The entire street was drenched in darkness and Vernon couldnât make out anything that was going outside. Well, to be fair he didnât care either because it was just the street lights, the lights inside his home were perfectly fine. And he wasnât an idiot to ruin his good mood over faulty street lights.
âI think itâs time for us to go to bed, my dear,â Petunia said as she stood up from her seat, still cradling their son as she went about to switch off the lights and the TV.
âBut Pet, itâs not-â
âShhhâŚâ Petunia stopped her husband as she pointed towards the sleeping form of their son. âHeâs finally asleep, and I think we should sleep as well because I will have to wake up at night to feed him once more and you have got work tomorrow.â
Vernon grumbled a bit about his work and the need to sleep at night but he didnât bother switching on the TV. Instead he got off his favorite armchair that sported two large depressions where he had placed himself and went towards their bedroom. Petunia had already placed Dudley in his cradle and he went there to kiss his son good night.
The last thing Vernon heard before he switched off the lights and went to sleep was a loud âvroomâ sound of an old motorcycle that stopped somewhere nearby. Well it didnât matter to him anyways, the public was being idiotic today. He wouldnât put past those weirdos from earlier to have an impromptu motorbike race down the dark street. Although he did wish for some of them to suffer an accident because of the darkness, that way itâd teach them not to harass good and normal citizens who are on their way to work.
â
(Timeskip: Four years)
The Dursley household at number four, Privet Drive was as perfect as a house could be. All the paintings and pictures were cleaned, no dust on the shelves, the corners shined as if they were built recently and the small garden outside the home was as immaculate as everything. It was the perfect impersonation of a doll house where nothing could ever go wrong.
And yet, there was something that was inherently cruel about the perfect house of number four.
The pictures portrayed a happy family of three members; Vernon and Petunia Dursley along with their five year old son Dudley. There were many pictures of the trio as they enjoyed various festivities and lived the best of their lives. But there was someone who was missing in those photos. Someone who had been dropped at the Dursley household about four years ago.
A young boy lived with them; he was the same age as their son Dudley, but wasnât someone they had wanted in their household. And they did almost everything to show that he wasnât welcomed and was in fact an unnecessary burden in their lives. An extra mouth to feed and a body to cloth so-to-speak.
His name? Harry Potter. He was also the most famous boy of the magical world of Great Britain as he had defeated Lord Voldemort at a budding and bubbling age of one. Something that had given him the infamous moniker âBoy-Who-Livedâ. Unfortunately, due to the results of a grand plan of a certain veteran old Headmaster, Harry had been saddled with the one family that hated him more than anything in the entire world: his relatives, the Dursleys.
The years hadnât been good for the boy as he had been neglected by his family for as long as he could remember of his young life. No one wanted to do anything with him, the only people he knew called him names like âFreakâ, âBoyâ, âWeirdoâ and some other derogatory terms that his primary school teacher had said wasnât meant for a young mouth like his.
His uncle didnât like him. His aunt didnât like him. His cousin hated his existence and did everything he could to make his school and home life quite hellish. But that was what it had been for the last three years. Ever since he started remembering things, he knew that the people around him hated him. Why? He didnât know. Only that they didnât like him or his presence in their house.
It was only recently when he had chanced upon a hushed conversation between his aunt and uncle that he learned that they didnât hate him. Yes, the hate was definitely there as the duo never missed a chance to prove that. But they feared him more. They were afraid of him, or something that he had. There was something he had that scared his uncle and aunt?
But if they were scared, shouldnât they be afraid of him instead of beating and starving him? This confused him and he didnât know whom to ask. The second rule that he had learned was âDonât ask questionsâ. First one was âCrying doesnât help as tears of Dudley got him what he wanted and tears of Harry got him what a freak like him deservedâ.
âBoy! Where the hell are you, you bloody freak?!â Vernon thundered as the lock clicked open from outside and the door of the cupboard under the stairs was wretched open revealing Vernonâs angry face with red and purple veins criss-crossing his bulbous face.
âI-I didnât do anything, uncle!â Harry screamed, afraid of the glare that his uncle gave. âIt was Dudley, he was the one who chased me!â
âSHUT UP!â Vernon thundered and raised his hand to beat Harry before he halted as he saw the boy cowering in front of him. âIt seems that just like a filthy pest, youâve outlived and got resistant to the thing that should destroy the evilness inside you. You need a more persuasive and potent pesticide instead.â
Harry watched with growing horror as the man grabbed him and dragged him out of the cupboard before he picked a golf club from the many others in the nearby stand and raised it over his head to beat him.
Petunia watched as her husband pulled out the golf club with suppressed glee. They had been called by the school that afternoon when the principal had reported that somehow her nephew was on the schoolâs terrace. That wasnât a big deal, anyone could go to the terrace, right? Yes of course they can but only if the terrace isnât locked from the inside.
The principal had freaked out at that and had even asked an explanation from the boy where he had told everyone that her little Dudders had chased him around the school grounds with his friends and he had just wanted to get away from them when he saw the schoolâs terrace and suddenly he stood atop it.
The explanation didnât answer how the freak had reached the terrace, instead the teacher had decided to believe the liar and punish her son. That was totally unacceptable! Neither she nor Vernon would let the freak lie his way out of his freakishness and get her innocent son in trouble because of that!
âI told you time and again, boy, NO FREAKISHNESS! I had hoped youâd have learned it by now but it seems youâre as stubborn as that stupid father of yours.â Vernon growled at Harry who continued to cry, slowly his eyes started to droop because of the continuous trauma and asphyxia due to shallow breaths. âBOY! Donât you dare fall asleep on the floor! Listen to me you stupid son of a whore!â
The patriarch of the Dursley household decided that he would beat his nephew later, because he needed to ingrain the lesson first. After all, beating the crap out of his sleeping nephew is of no use unless the boy actually feels the consequences of his troublesome activities.
Therefore, he bent down to grab Harry by his hair, but just as he was about to do it there was a sudden golden glow around his nephew which rapidly increased outwards and before he could do anything, hit him straight on his face, sending the large man flying through the living room door behind him as he crashed on the center table which was made of glass.
Petunia screamed in horror as she watched her husband being thrown away by the weirdly golden glow that surrounded the boy for a second. âVERNON!!â She rushed after her husband and gasped in shock when she saw the large burn that stretched diagonally on his face from forehead to his jaw.
Vernon groaned in pain as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, feeling the heat come from his face and looked at his right hand that had been burnt quite badly. Immediately he remembered what had just happened and his rage flew through the skies.
âPOTTER!!â Vernon screamed as he rolled on his stomach, completely ignoring the glass that was smashed beneath him and barreled towards the fallen boy who was still lying in the hallway. Dursley kicked the boy once before an idea struck his anger hazed mind.
âPetunia!â he barked out. âGive me my car keys!â
Petunia didnât want to be on the receiving end of her husbandâs infamous temper, therefore she immediately rushed out and brought the car keys and offered it to him.
âVer-Vernon? Are you sure you want to go out like this?â She asked him but the male Dursley didnât even hear her as he picked the unconscious boy with his hand and moved out of the house. Petunia rushed outside and looked around to check if there were any neighbors who were watching them. She sighed in relief when she ensured that everyone was inside and the only man who was near them was the postman who was probably on his way back home.
She heard the car start and looked as her husband reversed their car before rushing out to god knows where. Petunia didnât know what it was that her husband had planned for the freak, she only wished that he himself returned home safely and didnât fall prey to any of the freakâs weirdness.
âBe safe, Vernon,â she muttered, âBoth me and Dudley are waiting for you.â And with that she returned inside, closing the door after rechecking that none of the neighbors had seen them.
â
After traveling in the North direction for more than twenty miles, the Vauxhall Chevette, being driven by an angry Vernon came to a halt near the riverbank of Thames which was flowing through the capital. He looked behind at the sleeping form of his nephew who had yet to be woken up.
âThis bloody little shit-stain had hurt meâŚME!â Vernon looked at his face in the mirror and once more his glare hardened when he saw the burnt mark stretching diagonally across his face. âItâs time to teach you your place, Potter.â
The large walrus of a man got out of his car and looked around from his vantage point, he smirked when he noticed that there wasnât anyone around him. It was a good thing that about one-fifth of Surrey was densely populated with trees. Which ensured that usually no one would move out of their homes after dusk. Especially not into a place with dense greenery.
Once he had ensured that there was no one who could see him, or even learn that he had been in such a remote place, the man opened his nephewâs door and dragged the sleeping kid by his collar before carrying him to an even more remote place far away from his car and the road.
The male Dursley started to pant due to exertion after walking through the woods for fifteen minutes, he looked around himself once more, only to find an abandoned construction building nearby. Probably one of the many projects that their town was recently going through.
âThis will teach you the importance of a roof on your head and the meals that youâve been granted for free.â Vernon glared at his nephew as he lowered the small kid near the roots of a huge tree. He contemplated on waking the kid up to show that he was being left alone but then he decided that itâd be an even better surprise if he woke up on his own.
âIâll collect you from this place after a week, by then I am sure youâd have either learned your lesson or youâd be dead and no one would know of your wasteful existence.â Vernon sneered before he turned to move back to his car.
Unfortunately, just as he was about to move, he saw a flash of light on one of the topmost floors of the abandoned building before a loud and clear gunshot rang through the area followed by a piercing scream of a man.
âWhat theââ Vernonâs eyes widened in shock when he looked up in the direction of the building and saw somethingâprobably the wounded manâfall off the topmost floor. There was another person who stood where the man had fallen from.
What surprised the fat Dursley even more was the fact that the man who stood atop the building pointed his gun down at the falling man and shot him thrice more before he started to laugh.
âThis is just getting more and more scaryâ Vernon gulped and he looked down at his nephew who had started to stir. He knew that if his nephew woke up and told the psychopathic killer what had happened to him, it was possible that he would join the dead man whose body lay near the riverbank.
Therefore, without another thought Vernon started to rush back to his car that was parked a small distance away. He wanted to get out of this place as soon as he could, therefore he ran as fast as possible, completely ignoring the fact that his nephew was slowly waking up and a killer was present on the building nearby, laughing his ass off at something that only he knew.
This was not the time to be a detective and ask the killer what he found funny in killing that poor man. Absolutely not.
.
The nightâs air was cold, and there was nothing the blonde man could see except for the Vauxhall Chevette parked in the distance. He was sure that it was probably another young couple who were in their throes of passionate love making. Something that he wouldnât usually mind, but really? Couldnât the guy just spend a few pounds and take his girl to a good hotel at least?
âA deserted river bank in the woods? Really, mate?.. Even old Kim had better taste than thatâŚâ Atlas shook his head. The younger generation was becoming more idiotic by the passing days, wasnât it?
Well, it wasnât like he wanted to go and give the guy a lecture right now, and he certainly didnât want to waste anymore time in this abandoned building either. His mission had been finished. Now there was just one task leftâ Take the proof that the man was dead, and then dispose of the body.
There was a distant rumbling and the man saw that the car which had been parked had been gunned and immediately took a hasty retreat. Probably because the girl wouldâve been scared shitless because of the gunshots.
âHa! Serves you right for trying to find a cheap place to fuck, cocky nutsack.â Atlas grinned, âI hope you werenât able to finish either.â
And with that the man turned around to leave the building and reach the still lying body of his target, a guy named John Gage. CEO of Gage Constructions limited, and owner of the construction building which he was killed in.
The guy had been doing great in life. Successful business, good in-flow of cash, parties and sat with big names in Britain. Hell, as far as Atlas knew, John had been invited by the Royal family of Spain a few days ago regarding a business venture.
Unfortunately doing great didnât mean you didnât have enemies. Quite the opposite in fact. The more you do great, the more enemies you create. And no one knew when one of your enemies would spend a few thousand pounds to hire a professional mercenary, which would be the end of your âdoing greatâ life.
Ah well this time he had some fun at least.
Atlas smiled when he remembered how he had chased Gageâs car, then killed his bodyguards and that nagging assistant before he brought Gage here and killed the man in his own construction site.
âAh what a poetic justice,â Atlas smirked, âMaybe I should restart writing my poems, who knows which job might get me my retirement money?â
The mercenary jumped down the few stairs and moved out of the building. He went towards the fallen body of his victim where he scanned the manâs condition.
Four gun wounds, a black eye, scratch marks on his balding head and blood from his mouth. Yep, that was it. Atlas knew that the man probably had broken ribs, ruptured organs and was probably bleeding internally as well. But they werenât visible, were they?
âAlright, GageâŚSay cheese!â
After a few photos, the mercenary pulled out a long dagger from his thigh and with a swift movement he removed the old CEOâs head from his shoulders.
âThere, all done.â Atlas smiled as he picked the head before he made a face as if the thing grossed him out. He then pulled out a plastic bag and placed the head in it as a proof for his benefactor.
âI hate this last part,â The blonde shook his head and picked up the headless body of John before dumping him off in the river. The body slowly sank and Atlas closed his eyes for a few minutes, just for the sake of it. Old habits die hard.
âYou know after a few hours, the body will start floating.â
Yeah he knew that, but by that time, heâd be long gone and there would be nothing that would trace the murder back toâ Atlas opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the voice.
A small boy in oversized clothes and broken spectacles with bright emerald eyes and a mop of messy black hair sat under a large oak tree. But it was a bit weird to see a small boy here in the woods at this time, wasnât it?
What if the boy wasnât actually here?
Atlas turned back to the river and closed his eyes. He mentally counted till ten and then turned to look at the boy under the tree again.
Yep still there.
âErrâŚâ
â...â
â...â
âAre you thinking of asking me something?â the boy asked. âOr do you plan to kill me like you killed that man?â
Atlas blinked at the abrupt turn of events, how was this kid so calm when he just saw someone being killed? Wait. Wrong question. Right one would be, why is a kid even present here in the woods?! And since when had he been here?!
âWho are you?â
Surprisingly enough, the boy hesitated at that. As if telling his name was the last thing he wanted to do. Something which didnât sit well with Atlas who left Johnâs sunken body and instead decided to interrogate the child. He needed to know if he should kill the boy or bribe him and then get lost.
âWho are you?â
â...you wonât beat me, right?â The boy whispered slowly.
âWhy would Iâah.â The mercenary sighed, so thatâs how things had been for the boy. He was probably an orphan who lived off the streets and was scared. Maybe thatâs why he felt it more comfortable here in the woods? No human interactions and completely silent.
âNo, I wonât beat you, kiddo.â Atlas smiled at the boy, âNow, what is your name?â
âThatâs new.â The green eyed kid muttered, âI like it.â
âWhat? That I called you kiddo?â Atlas chuckled.
âNo, I liked that you answered me without getting angry. Usually my uncle would insult me and my aunt would just ignore me if I asked them something.â The boy shrugged, âThatâs why I decided to learn things on my own instead of asking them.â
Atlas didnât say anything. Instead his mind changed tracks, and now he removed the weird kid from a roadside beggar to a âDaddy-issuesâ orphan. Yes, orphan, because he distinctly noted that the boy told him about his uncle and aunt, not mom and dad.
âDon't worry, I donât think like your uncle and aunt do,â He messed with the boyâs messy hair, âIn fact I am quite sure that they donât think at all.â
âBut how would they be able to live if they donât think?â
â...That was a joke, kiddo.â Atlas laughed a bit awkwardly. âAnyways, can you tell me how long you have been here and what you have seen?â
âI woke up a few minutes ago.â Harry frowned in concentration. âI saw you come down that building, click some photos and then remove that guyâs head. Then youââ
âAlright-alright, I get it! I get it!â Atlas raised his hands. âYouâve seen enough. Well, do you know my name?â
âI donât. Mrs. Johnson says we should introduce ourselves first before we ask otherâs names.â The boy nodded. âYou forgot that. Itâs good manners.â
âIâYeah, I guess I did.â Atlas rubbed the back of his head and smiled again, unfortunately it didnât have an effect on the boy who decided to stare blankly at him. As if the kid was either reading his mind or peering into his soul.
âDo you know what happens now?â
âLike I told you earlier, the body will start floating again soon,â The boy pointed towards where Atlas had disposed of Johnâs body. âI think someone will notice it and call the cops who will investigate the body a bit. I donât know what happens after that though, I donât think they will allow me to watch it.â
âNo, they wonât.â Atlas mumbled involuntarily. The boy was too innocent. He was an orphan and was also being abused at his home. Since the boy âwokeâ up a few minutes ago, and the clothesâeven though oversized and oldâdidnât smell like roadside kids, it seemed that he had been left here by his foster family recently.
âDo you live nearby?â Atlas asked the kid. âMaybe I could help you reach your home? Your uncle might beâŚerrâŚa bit worried I guess?â
âHe wonât be worried.â He shook his head. âHe was probably the one who dropped me here when I was sleeping. So he already knows I am here.â
âIâŚsee.â
Now it was more awkward. There were two roads for him. The easy one would be to simply kill the kid and drop him in the river as well. No clue, no witness, and he was sure the kidâs family wouldn't mind either.
But the kid was way too innocent. And for some reason, he reminded Atlas of his own childhood when he had been given to an orphanage since birth. Then to a foster care where he ran away from and lived on the streets. He could see quite a resemblance in his past self and the boy who sat in front of him.
And for that very reason, Atlas was hesitating in pulling the trigger against the boy. Especially when the boy looked at him with such big, bright green puppy dog eyes.
The second option was to bribe the boy with some food and cash, and then tell him to forget what happened here. The boy seemed intelligent enough to understand, but that didnât mean he was trustable enough to follow the deal.
Which meant it was a risky end, something that he wasnât willing to take.
âI hate the fact that I have chosen to disregard my masks these days, maybe I should keep using them, this wouldnât have been a problem then.â Atlas rubbed his eyes as he looked at the boy.
âWhat to do.â He really needed a strong drink after this. And probably a good shag with one of his âfriendsâ. âHmmm⌠Samantha did say she was missing me, maybe I should call her after this.â
âWhat are you thinking about?â The kid spoke again, his voice seemed hollow and yet curious at the same time.
âNothing special, I just donât know what to do,â Atlas sighed. âI had hoped that no one saw me doing all of that, especially not a kid like you.â
âWhy? You donât like doing things when people watch?â The boy asked again. âMy teacher says that those who like to hide things are probably doing something bad. Were you doing something bad?â
âNot all things hidden from the public is bad, you know,â Atlas smirked before he realized that the kid was too young to get the innuendo. âAnd no, I wasnât doing anything bad. Not really. I was just doing my job, something I had been paid for.â
âThatâs understandable. My uncle works too, but his place of work is an office.â The boy nodded. âIs this the place where you work? Itâs quite open and I donât think thereâs anyone else here.â
âI like to work alone, kiddo.â
âThen who pays you?â
âI get clients who pay me to do my work, I just need to show them proof that the work has been done to collect payment.â
âIs that why you clicked photos and then collected the head?â
âI...yeah. You know youâre quite smart for aââ Atlas rubbed his head. âHow old are you, again?â
âI am five years old,â The boy nodded, âAnd I had to be smarter or else I wouldnât learn things on my own. I think itâs good because then I donât get scolded by my uncle, but sometimes itâs bad because I get better marks than Dudley, which my uncle and auntie donât like.â
âI see.â
There was a pregnant pause and Atlas contemplated a few things. Quite a few scenarios crossed his mind at that moment. He weighed the pros and cons of the two roads that had diverged in front of him regarding the kid.
Finally after analyzing everything, he came to a conclusion. He knew he would definitely regret this later, but then at least he wonât have any regrets regarding the kid. Plus, he could always kill the kid later.
But for nowâŚ
âYou know itâs not safe to stay here, kiddo.â Atlas smiled at the boy, trying to seem as harmless as possible. âWould you like to come with me to my home? I might not be able to give you much right now, but I am sure we will be able to get your things by shopping from the local market. You can refuse it if youââ
âDo you promise to answer my questions like you have been answering till now?â
ââwant to, butâWait, what?â
âWill you answer my questions like you have been answering till now?â The boy asked again, and for the first time Atlas could actually see the boyâs eyes glinting with some sort of bright energy. Maybe the boy was happy?
âYeah sure, why not?â Atlas smiled at the boy who reciprocated it a bit, âI will answer your questions, we will go shopping tomorrow and then you can tell me about your school and this âMrs. Johnsonâ as well as your uncle and aunt, I mean, if you want to.â Atlas added hastily but the boy just shrugged as he got up from the ground.
âI will answer your questions too. Thatâs how itâs done, right?â The boy dusted his oversized pants and held out his hand for Atlas to hold.
âI am Harry,â the boy gave a crooked grin, âHarry Potter.â
âAtlas, no last name.â The mercenary chuckled once more as the two started walking hand in hand towards the road where he had parked his bike. His mind was alerting him again and again that this decision would be the death of him later.
After all he was a mercenary, for godâs sake! He had been an orphan and the foster home didnât work. He had been living on the streets before becoming a happy-go-lucky merc! He didnât know the first thing about parenting! How was he going to take care of a five year old kid? What would he tell the kid?
How would he even keep the kid at his home since his work usually included traveling overseas every other month?
This was a bad idea. A bad idea! A bad idea!!!
âOh, by the way,â Harry poked him as the duo walked away from the construction building, river Thames with the body of John Gage and the old English Oak tree where Harry had been dropped off to.
âHmm?â
âThank you.â
Atlas looked down at Harry. He wasnât looking at him, no, the boy was looking down at the path they were walking through. But that was probably because he was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he thanked a complete stranger who decided to take him in, instead of leaving him like his foster family did.
Yes, it might be a bad idea, probably one of his worst ones. But who knew, maybeâŚjust maybe this might be the start of something new? Something that would turn out to be an absolutely fantastic thing in the future?
Who knew? Thatâs rightâno one. Not yet at least.
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Ending Note: So....that was the first chapter of my latest fic. HOW WAS IT?!
I hope you have got a general idea as to what will happen, if not then here's the synopsis:
Synopsis: This is an A.U. where Voldemort only made three horcruxes (Diary, Locket, Harry) instead of seven. Which means that he is way more intelligent and not a lunatic fool who deliberately does the same mistakes over and over again. After all, a smart hero needs a smart villain and a smarter writer to pull all of that smart-assness in it.
Harryâs behavior: A flirty and laid back person who doesnât care about social norms. He is also a pervert and freely makes innuendos. Inherently heâs a good guy and will do good most of the time. Heâs also moody, which means he wonât always spare the idiots and he wonât always kill the idiots, though his reasoning would be sound to himself it might not be the same for others. Lastly, heâd be a shameless pervert with a convoluted sense of self and questionable morality.
Beware: This story has smut content in it. {NSFW content ahead}
I'd love some comments on this new start, once again thank-you for supporting me.
Stay tuned and stay chill for more updates!
With a wink and high-five,
Dev Black
Comments
Dev Sagittarius Black
đđ thank you! Next chapter coming soon.
Afterdark230
I like it, it has so many possibilities! Keep it coming
Dev Sagittarius Black
Soon soon!! I don't plan on boring you and everyone else with long details of Harry's growing years. The timeskips will be rapid so that we can get on with the main story asap!
I am lord dems
I wonder will atlas learn about magic and who Harry actually is by an associate because of Harry coming with him or will it be in 6 years on Harry's birthday. Good story so far loving it dev
