Albus Dumbledore sees that the house that was once Number Four, Privet Drive is truly blown up, much like the Potter's house had been in Godric's Hollow less than three years before, on that Halloween night when Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter.
All that is left of Number Four is charred rubble. The Blood Wards are essentially useless now that Harry's family is dead, and Dumbledore is trying to change them into some sort of protection for Harry, to keep him safe until they get him back.
The sky is cloudy and there's a storm on the horizon, which fits the mood rather well.
Albus knows they must get the boy back. It's been at least fifteen hours since he got the frantic fire call from Arabella Figg about the Dursley residence exploding. It's been about as long since Severus dueled the man who still most likely has Harry.
Harry is missing, and most likely in grave danger. Not only from potential Death Eaters, but from the assassin with the metal arm who presumably still has Harry in his clutches.
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't sent him here." Beside Dumbledore, Minerva is fuming, with the rather fitting ferocity of a mother lion protecting her cubs, about how she knew that Harry should have never been left with the Dursley family, and how they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. "Merlin knows what that man is doing to him. If he so much as lays a hand on Harry, I'll-"
Albus tunes her out and focuses on the wards.
Changing the wards is not particularly tricky for Dumbledore, but there's no guarantee that the new protection wards will be able to help Harry wherever he is. The problem lies in the fact that they would be much more effective if Harry were here and Dumbledore could cast them on him directly.
He should have thought to cast something like this when he left Harry on the Dursleys' doorstep, but it's not as if he was in danger with his relatives.
Hopefully the new wards will protect Harry until they find him again. Albus really hopes the assassin isn't planning on killing Harry. The boy is necessary for defeating Voldemort. Despite what most of the wizarding world chooses to believe, Voldemort will most likely return.
Severus is stalking towards them, holding some sort of muggle device. He had been sent out to the site of the car where he had fought the assassin- thankfully, the car evidently hasn't been moved by the muggle authorities yet.
"What is it?" Minerva asks, looking at the device. It is a gray box with a glass screen that lights up, showing a map.
"A... GPS." Albus answers, still unfamiliar with the term. Some of the things muggles invent are truly amazing.
In their second questioning of the kidnappers, they had managed to gain a bit of useful information. The two muggles- who are once again petrified- revealed that this 'GPS' device will tell them the location of the soldier who took Harry, by tracking something in the soldier's metal arm. It is one of those... electric devices, though, and muggle technology often doesn't work well with magic.
Severus looks at it as the screen flickers slightly, and the Potions Master reads out an address that almost certainly isn't connected to the Floo Network. Furthermore, they can't apparate there without knowing what the place looks like.
Dumbledore decides to try to pull some strings and get someone at the ministry to connect the building -which is apparently some sort of ski lodge, whatever that is- to the Floo Network briefly.
The Soldier stands quietly, awaiting orders from its handlers. The head is quiet, and the agents have turned off the screen, so the only noise is the rain that has started to fall on the roof, and the boy's quiet sobs.
The boy is in the bearded agent's arms, but the agent's grip is rough. The boy had been a target, a package to deliver, but he is now in the hands of the handlers. That mission is complete. It should not have taken so long to complete the mission, but the Soldier had defected.
It does not know if it is still defective, but it will be punished regardless. For defecting enough that HYDRA had to send agents to collect the Soldier and the boy, instead of just returning to the base and delivering the boy like it was supposed to.
The agents have not yet given the Asset a new mission. Perhaps there will not be a new mission until it is returned to the base, and wiped in the Chair.
The boy, the previous mission, Potter, is staring at the Asset. "Mr. A'set, sir?" The Asset doesn't respond.
"...M-mar-onet-tka?" Potter tries the word very hesitantly, saying it as if it is one of the Asset's codenames rather than a code word used to control it. He speaks so quietly, the Soldier doesn't think the agent holding the boy hears the word. The Soldier has enhanced hearing, and even its ears barely pick up the word.
марионетка
The boy has given the code word that means, essentially, I am a superior, obey me. I control you.
The Soldier's eyes snap to the child. Potter had been a target, merely a package to deliver for the mission. The Asset has never had a target turn into a superior, at least not that it can remember. Yet there have been people the Asset first thought were enemies who turned into superiors, such as the men and woman in the room.
Regardless, the reset means past missions are unimportant. All that matters is the new mission, which still has not been assigned.
But the boy had simply heard the agents saying the code word earlier. Potter was certainly not authorized to use the word or gain control over the Asset. Is the child really a superior now?
As the Asset thinks this, something seems to ripple through its mind, a foreign entity trying to reset him again. It stirs something else, something inside the mind, that immediately starts trying to push out.
The boy has given the codeword before the agents in the room. It is not the Asset's place to question its handlers. The young handler had given the word, that is all that matters. The agents still have not given the code word, following the reset.
"A-A'set..." The boy stammers. The Asset's eyes stay on the handler. It must always give its superiors its full attention when they address it.
"Help..." The boy is loud enough this time that the agent holding him hears the word. It is clear that he doesn't really have much hope about getting any assistance. He stares pleadingly at the Soldier's face, only his green eyes briefly flick down to where the Soldier's arms are cuffed behind its back.
"Put a sock in it, you." The bearded agent holding the Soldier's young handler growls. "He won't help you, he obeys us."
Incorrect.
"Puh-ease..." The mini-handler is much quieter. It is an odd thing to add, handlers never say please. Until now.
HELP
It is the first order the Soldier has gotten since being reset. The mini-handler has given the Soldier a mission.
OBEY.
Get the boy, The other voice adds. Keep him safe.
The agent puts a hand over the mini-handler's mouth. Eyes wide with fear, the mini-handler kicks instinctively and catches the agent in the groin with a tiny, waterproof red boot. The agent grunts, grimacing and bending forward slightly, yet not letting go of the boy.
Despite landing a kick, the mini-handler definitely does not have this agent on the ropes. Will he say he did, anyways? That seems familiar, somehow, as if someone who'd gotten beat up said that.
Once he regains his bearings, the agent wraps a hand around the mini-handler's throat. The child squirms more, landing a kick in the man's stomach.
STOP.
The Soldier's fists clench.
Save the handler.
The agent is not allowed to hurt the Soldier's handler. Doing so makes him an enemy, a threat to be neutralized. The man is no longer a superior, as he had been before the reset.
The Asset usually has missions involving assassinations, yet somehow the idea of protecting a scrawny boy and beating up people who try hurting the boy seems almost instinctual, as if he's done it a million times before, but for someone else. His mind conjures an image of the blonde guy.
In one fluid movement, the Asset rips the chain on the cuffs, although the metal rings are still around its wrists, and brings its arms forward, lunging for the agent holding the Asset's mini-handler.
The agents had gotten too relaxed, let their guard down in the Soldier's presence. Their mistake. The agents fumble slightly with their weapons, in shock, giving the Soldier even more of an advantage.
It takes the agents 1.3 seconds to properly aim their weapons at the Asset. By that time, the Asset has its mini-handler in its flesh arm, against its hip.
"What the f-" is all the bearded agent manages to get out before the metal hand is wrapped around his throat and the words are replaced with panicked, strangled sounds.
"Soldier, stand down!" The blonde male agent shouts. The agents all look very scared, and some of the guns are shaking slightly with their bodies. "Marionetka! Marionetka! Soldier, comply!"
Code word: rejected. They are now enemies of the Soldier's handler. They have no power over the Soldier.
The Asset's hand tightens and crushes the bearded agent's windpipe. That threat to the Asset's handler has been neutralized.
The three remaining agents in the room are standing between .8 and 1.7 meters away.
The fourth living agent, still standing outside the window 2 meters away, abruptly fires his gun, shattering the glass pane. The sound of guns and glass breaking makes the mini-handler cry.
The Soldier shields its mini-handler from the glass shards with its body, and another agent takes the opportunity to fire their gun at them. The Soldier successfully covers its handler, but the bullet buries itself in the Soldier's flesh arm.
Adrenaline dulls the Asset's pain. Its own injuries are negligible, and it seems to have prevented the injury of its handler, though there is no time to thoroughly examine the mini-handler now.
The Asset has three pistols and six knives to go against four armed agents, but right now its hands are busy holding its mini-handler and the dead bearded agent. It is a good thing they had not gotten around to frisking him.
The Asset shoves the boy under the bed. The bed does not provide great cover, but it is better than nothing. While it is doing this, two of the other agents fire off shots.
He uses the dead body of the bearded agent as a shield, and red soon splatters on the ground. One of the bullets goes all the way through the man but is stopped by the Soldier's tactical vest.
It is good he hadn't taken off the vest. He already has one bullet wound, another- especially in the chest- would greatly hinder his performance or even kill him.
That would be unacceptable. It would put his young handler in danger, the Soldier notes as he aims his gun in one fluid motion.
Lightning flashes outside, as the storm predicted by the news finally arrives.
The female agent is pulling out a communication device, while the agent outside climbs through the shattered window.
The Asset hurls the lifeless body at two of the agents to provide a distraction while he draws his own gun. The body not only knocks them down, it knocks the communication device out of the female agent's hands before she can call for help. The device is soon crushed under the Asset's boot.
The third and fourth agents try to squeeze off shots that the Asset blocks with its metal arm, though the second bullet almost gets past the Asset's defenses.
The Soldier is an incredibly skilled marksman and can shoot quicker than the agents. Four shots from his own gun, and they all fall with bullets in their foreheads. He did not even need to get any of his knives dirty, although the room is now far from clean.
The Asset crouches down by the edge of the bed. The mini-handler is pressed up against the wall under the bed, curled tightly in the fetal position. He looks even smaller, like when he'd been in the cupboard under the stairs. The handler's body is shaking with muffled sobs, one hand trying to stifle them.
At every clap of thunder, Potter flinches. Perhaps he thinks they are gunshots.
The Soldier's presence is ignored. This is not uncommon- there's no need to acknowledge a weapon unless it is needed, and the threats have been neutralized.
Handlers do not cry, so this is a first, unless he's not remembering some other handler crying. The Asset remembers the boy crying back when he was the target, and how he had wet his pants during the other fight. At least that seems to have been avoided this time.
The Asset waits for further orders, or a prompt for a status report. Nothing is forthcoming from the handler at the moment.
He should take care of the bullet in his arm. After all, he needs to be in peak condition for optimum performance to ensure further mission success.
It takes longer for the Asset to find a medical kit here at the ski lodge than it had at the Dursley residence, but after 4.5 minutes, he eventually finds one behind a counter in the actual kitchen, which is separated from the large, open, combined sitting and dining areas. He keeps an ear out for any sound of more approaching agents.
The Asset returns to the bedroom in case his handler has a need for him, and sits on the floor.
At least the bullet is not too difficult to reach with tweezers. The Asset does not have much experience with field medicine, but he manages to dislodge the bullet with tweezers, scowling even more fiercely than usual at the pain. He has to stop to catch his breath once, now that his adrenaline has ebbed. It is more difficult than removing the porcelain shards from the handler's hands had been last night, when he'd been the target.
Before the Asset fully pulls the bullet out, his handler speaks from under the bed. The Asset stills, giving his handler's words his full attention, despite him being hidden from sight under the bed.
"You beated da bad guys up?" The mini-handler asks cautiously.
Mission Report. Odd that the new handler doesn't explicitly order it.
"The threats have been eliminated." The Asset reports. "They will not harm you."
"They... not hurt me?" The boy asks as if not being hurt is a foreign concept.
"They will not harm you." The Soldier repeats in the exact same monotone, but he is making a promise. Nobody will harm his handler. Not under his watch, certainly.
"Oh." The handler is silent for a bit. "You helped me...?" He sounds awed, as if he didn't expect the Soldier to follow orders. Then again, the Soldier had been unintentionally defecting before the reset.
"Affirmative."
"I think... you really are my Batman, Mr. A'set, sir."
Is Batman supposed to be a new codename? But he had still been called Asset by his handlerso the usual codename still applies.
Why is the handler calling him Mr. and sir? If anything, it should be the Soldier respectfully addressing his handler with the honorifics, certainly not the other way around. But the Soldier never corrects his handlers, so he doesn't comment on the odd form of addressing a weapon.
"Affirmative." The Asset- possible new codename: Batman- answers.
The handler does something odd, when he pokes his head out from under the bed and smiles at the Soldier, although his small nose is slightly scrunched from the smell of blood. It had been odd enough before, but it is stranger now that the Soldier is under his control. Smiles are not something handlers typically wear when looking at him.
The mini-handler has not given any orders since help, which has been carried out successfully. The small boy crawls out from under the bed and frowns.
"Blood." Potter points his finger, first at the blood splattered from the agents' foreheads, but then at the Soldier's blood. "Mr. A'set. Blood. You hurt?"
"Functioning within operable parameters." The Asset replies, still crouched on the floor. His reflexes in his right, flesh arm may be slowed as much as 70%, but he is not completely incapacitated. His prosthesis is not damaged, and it is more powerful than his flesh arm.
The Soldier stills when the boy wraps his arms around his neck. He doesn't move to shake his handler off- he is never allowed to. But this isn't checking his functionality. It's almost like... a hug?
"Hurt." The handler murmurs sadly, as if the Soldier's pain actually matters. The wound does hurt, but all that matters is whether he is functional. "Like wid'da Dursleys."
"Pain manageable."
The boy's arms tighten slightly around the Soldier's neck when lightning flashes and thunder booms 2.1 seconds after the lightning, but the grip is not tight enough to interfere with respiratory functions. Potter lets out a tiny whimper and buries a tiny, still-bandaged hand in the Asset's hair. The Asset doesn't move.
It is strange, having the handler cling to him like this, but slowly, the small body relaxes, a tiny head with messy black hair falling against the Soldier's chest, tiny hands pulling slightly at his hair. The hair-pulling and tightening around the neck do not feel like punishments.
"You were like a robot. Dudley watched 'em on the telly when I was cleaning, but then Aunt Tuna hit me for it. Freaks don't get to watch telly." The boy whispers guiltily, eyes lowered. "But you're my Batman A'set now... I seed him too."
"The... Batman Asset is not a robot." The Asset easily adapts to the new codename and doesn't correct the boy's grammatical mistakes. Apparently, his new handler had had seen his cousin watching Batman, whatever that is, as well. But Batman is a new codename, and the cousin hadn't been watching the Soldier.
"The blood!" The mini-handler gasps again after 17 seconds of neither of them speaking, looking at the blood on the floor as if he'd temporarily forgotten, despite the smell. " I-I'll clean it. Now." He promises hastily, almost panicked.
If anything, shouldn't the handler order the Asset... Batman to clean it up? He would obey unquestioningly, of course, and he knows how to clean messy evidence such as blood, or even guts and organs. Usually his kills are more clean than these had been.
He cannot tell his handler what to do, so he remains silent. The boy shuffles off, head ducked down.
The Asset goes back to cleaning the wound on his arm and bandaging it. Once that's done, he pulls the second bullet out of his tac vest. It plinks as it falls and rolls across the floor.
3.7 minutes later, Potter returns with a bucket, a rag and ammonia, and starts to blot at the blood stains in the carpet. He obviously has practice from living with the Dursley's. Had he been made to clean his own blood after getting injured?
He should not be handling ammonia at such a young age.
"That is not necessary." The Soldier murmurs. It's speaking out of turn, but the boy isn't very forthcoming with anything. Handlers are always explicit with orders, except this one.
"But I gotta clean it, sir."
The Asset says nothing as he turns to his other arm.
The prosthesis, at least, had not been damaged by any bullets. But it had been what had lead to the whole incident, apparently. They had tracked him with a device in his arm that they had not told him about. If it stays in, they will find him again, and soon.
There might already be backup agents on the way, if they worry that they're not getting a response from the dead agents.
He glances at the handler, wondering if the boy will give permission to reveal the tracker.
The small handler seems rather uneasy around the corpses, only cleaning the blood at least 1 m away from them, and staring at their bleeding foreheads, rubbing his own. It had obviously bled as well, whenever he got that odd lightning bolt scar. The Soldier does not know how his handler got the scar, or when, or if his handler remembers it. He is so young, after all, that at least a fourth of his life is totally forgotten to him.
Still, there is no doubt that the boy remembers more of his short life of barely more than four years than the Asset remembers of his significantly longer existence.
While Potter seems to have experience with being around and cleaning blood, he clearly does not have experiences with corpses or brain matter, and seems quite scared of both of them.
"Are they gonna wake up?" Potter asks fearfully, looking at the dead bodies as if they will suddenly be resurrected to slap him for not cleaning quickly enough.
"They are dead. But more will come." The Asset says.
"They're scawry. No more puh'ease." Potter whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.
Keep him away from HYDRA. The defective voice is now back, with a new mission. Keep the handler safe.
This makes the Batman pause. This handler clearly does not want to be aligned with HYDRA, but he was supposed to be HYDRA's property. Delivering him had been the previous mission, but that is irrelevant after the reset.
If the handler wants to stay away from HYDRA, the Soldier will ensure he stays away.
Yet, even though his currently handler is not part of HYDRA, the Soldier still is. HYDRA would not let their asset go, they will be searching for him and the boy.
The mission is to avoid HYDRA. They cannot stay here, then. HYDRA will look for them here.
RELOCATE.
The Soldier nods, and gathers the agents' weapons for his own use later. The only positive part of them showing up is that he now has more guns. It hurts to pick them up with his flesh arm, though, so he straps them onto the various clips on his tactical vest with his prosthesis.
The Asset moves to the dining/sitting area. He grabs the bags of food, which were already mostly packed. He pauses at bag of animal crackers, which is still on the table instead of packed with the other food.
His handler will need food. The boy is looking at the crumbs in the wardrobe as if he is wondering if he can get away with eating them.
The Asset pulls out a couple crackers, before stuffing the bag of them in his backpack.
He glances at the weaponized stick in the side pocket of the backpack, then pulls it out and tosses it aside. He cannot use it anyways, and for all he knows, that might be able to track them as well. Besides, since he will be avoiding HYDRA, there is no need to deliver it to them.
Potter grins widely at the Asset when he hands him a few animal crackers, as . "F'ank you siwr." The boy speaks around the bear cracker he already stuffed in his mouth as he wordlessly holds one up to the Asset. The Asset takes the giraffe-shaped cracker and eats it.
The boy is already dressed in his waterproof boots and coats. The Soldier does not have similar waterproof clothes, and pulling on the stolen hooded sweatshirt could further injure his flesh arm, so he leaves the sweatshirt off. Unfortunately, his metal arm is still visible, and it is very distinguishable.
As he heads towards the door, the mini-handler glances at the Soldier, almost as if he is supposed to be giving orders instead of the boy. The Soldier still has the voice in his head giving orders, telling him to relocate.
The Soldier doesn't know where he's going when he steps outside- it's only drizzling now, the storm only lasted 4.6 minutes- but he hadn't known where he was going when he ended up at the ski lodge, either.
He will not take the van that the agents arrived in. They will be looking for it. He could steal the gas for the car he'd stolen last night, but the television had proven that the theft of that car was reported so he will not be inconspicuous.
Walking it is.
Fifteen minutes into their walk, the boy is stumbling tiredly, but hasn't uttered a single word. Still, the mini-handler's hands let go of the animal crackers, but the Soldier catches them before they hit the ground.
Carry him. The voice says when the boy nods off then and there.
WAIT FOR PERMISSION.
"Permission to pick you up." The Soldier says. The boy gives a noncommittal grunt, head drooping, as he almost falls to the ground. Potter had not gotten much sleep last night.
The Soldier takes the boy practically falling as permission, since they need to move. He scoops his sleeping handler into his metal arm, his right hand clutching the animal crackers for the handler to eat later, and continues walking.
It takes a little over half an hour to Floo from Arabella Figg's house to the to the Ministry of Magic, arrange for the location to temporarily be connected to the Floo Network (without revealing the real reason), and then Floo to the location that the GPS had given them.
The dot showing where the man is had mysteriously disappeared while they were at the ministry. Perhaps there was too much magic in the air for the muggle device, yet it still shows the map, just not the man's location. Right before they floo'd here, it had still been absent.
Severus looks around as he steps out of the fireplace at their location, borrowed wand clasped in his hand. He's ready to fight the man who stole Potter.
Severus will not lose to the muggle this time. If he hadn't underestimated the man, he should have won the first time. After all, the Potions Master is a very competent wizard and skilled duelist. It seems this muggle is more powerful than a human should be, but Severus knows to expect that now.
Dumbledore and McGonagall step out of the fireplace after him.
They arrive in a large, combined sitting and dining area, that seems to be a public place, but it is deserted now, or at least this area is. There is the smell of ammonia in the air.
Dumbledore casts a human-presence-revealing spell, and it reveals that they are the only ones in the building. Great, so the man left already. Severus casts a glance down at the GPS, but still the dot is gone, meaning they have no way to track him.
Severus approaches the side room that the smell is coming from, and it turns out to be one of several bedrooms, presumably for guests.
There are four dead men and a dead woman, all bleeding from their foreheads. At least Potter's body is not among them, but there is no guarantee he is fine. Perhaps his lifeless body is elsewhere. Severus has no idea what the kidnappers had planned for the boy, and he's not sure the wards Dumbledore changed are really doing anything to help the brat.
The only good news is that Severus finds his wand on the floor.