The Return of the Phoenix Lord ( full length rewrite)
Based on the same premise as the story The Return of the Phoenix Lord on Fanfiction.net
He was stumbling tiredly down the street, ready for another sleepless night when he heard the piercing scream that rent apart the still night air. Despite the pain they caused him for so many years, he felt his blood turn cold at the sound and he still somehow found himself sprinting forward, bursting through the door of Number 4 Privet Drive to find a gasping Petunia, white faced, Screaming as she knelt next to the bodies of her son and husband. Supermarket bags had been dropped in the entryway their contents spread across the foyer, obviously she had just returned and found them. She looked up, her eyes wild with pain, opened her mouth, staring at him for second, and let out a rattling gasp, mouthing soundlessly. Eventually she managed to choke out, “This is you! You killed them!”
“No!” he gasped, although he could tell such denials were useless, she had already made up her mind “I didn’t-” but he stopped, because even if it wasn’t him, this was surely his fault. The corpses of his uncle and cousin were unmarked, which was indicative of the killing curse. Was this some play of Voldemorts, to frame him fr murder, make him more vulnerable?
“Get out of my house!! Get out!!!”
“I’m Sorry!” he cried racing to his room to pack, he had to leave now before the Ministry-
It was too late, he could hear the cracks as the Aurors apperated, Storming into the house they yelled for him to reveal himself. Swinging his rucksack over his shoulder, he leapt from the window, cushioning his fall somewhat with a quick charm, and sprinted, dodging the spells of the Aurors behind him and he made his way across the lawn. For a split second, at the edge, he glanced back at the Aurors hanging out the window, a parallel to the Dursley’s three years previously. HE huried away, disappearing into the dark night.
He sat, motionless, in a chair in the headmasters’ office, overwhelmed by the memories of his previous visits. It was ever the same, a large circular room full of odd silver instruments on spindly legged tables, portraits of the old headmasters and mistresses, no longer sleeping, but instead eyeing him with unmistakable curiosity. He was awkwardly perched on the edge of the chair. Tensely poised as though prepared at any moment to take flight. He had been seated like this for quite some time, his eyes continually roving over the contents of the office, desperate for a remembrance of better days, happier days. He took it in as a starving man eats, yet similarly to one who has been starved, he could not allow himself to grow to comfortable in his surroundings lest he become ill, or unintentionally give clues to his identity. Yet after two years apart, he found he hoped, despite his best intentions, that he would be recognized and welcomed back into their ranks, despite the betrayals he had suffered.
The door opened and he stiffened and, turning slightly, spotted Dumbledore, who upon entering was immediately followed by the Minister of Magic , Mcgonagall and Snape. His mouth tightened at the sight of the man, and he found he could not quell the surge of anger that welled inside him. Snape stared directly into his eyes and he could almost feel his frustration when he failed to properly legilimens him. Inwardly he smirked and thought, At least I accomplished some things while I was away. He opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but before he could, he was interrupted by Dumbledore, “So...Brian. If you're willing to answer our questions, please come this way.”
Brian stared dully at him and asked “Do I really have a choice?” In a sarcastic manner
“Why, of course you do. You are free to leave at any time.”
“Now, I don't think-”
Dumbledore firmly interrupted the minister “I do believe that even the ministry does not have the right to hold someone against their will. Unless, of course, you want to prosecute them for a crime.” HIs piercing stare sent a flush of pink across the minister’s cheeks, and he hastily shook his head, silenced. Why did I save his life? Wondered Brian, ruminating on the events of the previous night.
They had recently bestowed him with the nickname “the Death Angel”. Upon reading this in the paper he found himself choking on his tea and spilling it all over both himself and the paper. He withdrew his wand and hastily performed a drying charm on his clothing and the papers in front of him. Leaning forward, he eagerly continued
It is believed that the assassin known as the Death Angel was active again last
night. The so-called Angel of Death has been striking terror in the hearts of
death eaters has struck once more. Last night Avery Sr., Jugson, Mulciber, and
Goyle Sr., all known death eaters, were killed last night of exsanguination relating
to strange wounds on their necks. This has been the trademark of all of the Death
The article continued on to list all of his known targets and offer several wild (yet amusing) theories as to his identity. His personal favorite suggested that he was actually Mundungus Fletcher. What interested him however was the end of the article which read:
Anyone with information pertaining to the identity or location of the Angel of Death should contact the aurors office or contacts Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour directly.
So they were interested in him now? They wanted the truth NOW? After everything they still expected him to trust them? Fuming, he paced, thinking wildly “How do I fix this?”
Presently, he followed Mcgonagall’s robes as they led him through a small door to a chamber which he had failed to previously notice. There, he saw what must have been the inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix. Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, a young witch with purple hair, presumably the new wife of Lupin’s he’d read about in the paper, Kingsley Shacklebolt (who he also recognized from the paper), Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and- of all people- Draco Malfoy. The minister leaned forward, studying Brian with knitted brows.
“Might I ask what your goal is in your pursuit of Death Eaters?”
Brian stared at him incredulously. “What’s my goal!? What do you mean what’s my bloody goal? I would imagine that my goal is fairly obvious!”
The minister shifted uncomfortably and stated, “Now look here, I don’t know who you are but I certainly won’t be addressed in such a manner! I am the leader of your government and I-”
Brian interjected. “Oh, yes! You are the leader! The leader of a failing administration! How dare you stand there and reproach me after all your administration has failed to do! Look what happened to your predecessor!”
It was a sore spot for the ministry. Fudge had been sacked following the public outrage at his continued insistence that Voldemort had not in fact returned. As soon as it became clear that he had failed the entire community he received several death threats for his management of the cries and was forced to flee England. The wizarding world was angry and frightened,and they looked for someone to blame. As is like to happen in any modern society they chose to blame the minority. Blood purity relations were worse than ever, with some members of the community blaming muggle-borns for their current plight and and others attempting to defend the muggle-borns. Instead of fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters the wizarding world was fighting with itself. While people were fighting in the street there was a ministry infiltration that few took notice of or protested, so caught up as they were in their current argument.
This was part of Brian's reason for distancing himself from the ministry. He was tired of their political games, of the parties jockeying for power and putting financial concerns above the good of the world. So why was he here? Surrounded by those he couldn’t possibly trust after all he’d gone through...right? If only he hadn't run into Dumbledore the previous night… well things would probably be going more his way. Instead of succeeding in killing Lucious Malfoy, he was forced to step in when a cronie of Lucious had attempted to attack Dumbledore who had already been on the property when Brian arrived. So he stepped in between Dumbledore and the curse, doubtlessy injuring his reputation as a hardcore assassin, and requireing medical attention in the process. That was how he found himself at Hogwats.
Standing, he began o edge backwards, saying, "is that the lot of it then? because I have an appointment in less than an hour-"
"Now wait just a minute Brian, there was one matter I wish to discuss with you of upmost importance."