Make A Wish By: Rorschach's Blot 9 *Chapter 9*: Can The Bad Guy Fly?

"Yes sir," several voices called out like handfuls of Floo were tossed into fireplaces. "We've got them, sir."

"Good," the Praefectus Pratori sat and faced the two figures in the flames. "I need some information and I am willing to give information."

"You said you had something to share about black?" Hooft Van De Staatstovenaars, Sanne Vermeer asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes I do," the Praefectus Pratori agreed impatiently, "he's in my city and he's been running around doing G.o.d knows what for the last two days and I want to know what he's capable of."

"It might be best for you to tell us what you know so that we can fill in the blanks for you," a shadowed man replied from the French fireplace."

"He was hired by the Swiss Guard to check some wards three days ago," the Praefectus Pratori answered quickly. "And he made a comment about the new section being a different color than the older sections."

"How is that possible," the shadowed man bit out. "To gain that ability, we knew he was insane but this . . . please go on."

"Then he spent two days doing G.o.d knows what," the Praefectus Pratori forced himself to calm. "He popped up again in a bar belonging to one of the heads of the Mafia. He sat down next to the aforementioned head and calmly told him that if the Mafia did not follow a few rules, including not following dark lords and confining their killings to other members of the Mafia then they would all be killed and that Black would start over with the next group."

"How did your 'head' take that?" Sanne Vermeer leaned forward to hear the answer.

"He thanked Black and paid for his drink," the Praefectus Pratori wiped his brow. "He then told his men that attacking Black would be suicide and called a meeting with the other heads."

The two other heads of Magical Law Enforcement took several seconds to process the new information.

"Would you mind telling me what you know about the man?" Their Italian colleague asked, "I don't mean to be rude but I need every second I can get."

"We're terribly sorry," the shadowed Frenchman apologized. "But every time we hear something new about the man it turns out to be more astounding than the last bit of information. Ms. Vermeer, I believe you had the honor of meeting him first."

"Yes I did," the woman agreed. "He came to Amsterdam and stopped a group of death eaters that say they were tracking Harry Potter." She ignored the other two's explanations of surprise, "one of my people later reported that Black had her remove a tracking spell, so it seems likely that Black transferred the spell from Potter to himself. After that he spotted every tail we a.s.signed. Including the ones under invisibility, and according to reports coming from England he also managed to discover a new species of magical animal without the watchers noticing."

"Black came to Paris and also spotted every one of our tails," the Frenchman began. "He also seems to have some sort of undetectable charm or field that alerts him of any intrusion into his room. While he was here he allowed us to look into his medical history and aside from a rather long list of past injuries, we found something odd. Black has apparently subjected himself to some sort of process that makes his blood deadly to anyone but himself and our healers speculate that in addition to making him immune to nearly every toxic substance known to man, that it may have also boosted his natural healing ability. Black has also shown that he has at least some skill in wandless magic."

"Is that all?"

"I hesitate to add it," the Frenchman paused. "But due to some of the knowledge he showed, many are starting to believe that Black may have been here with the resistance during the Second World War."

"Thank you," the Praefectus Pratori gave a rare smile, "I do have to ask why you didn't tell me that Black was coming in my direction though."

"We didn't know," the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "Black gave us the slip by taking a Portkey to Monte Carlo, it took us a minute to track the Portkey and another thirty-five seconds for the locals to get on the scene, but they lost his trail because of the excitement resulting from a very large win." The Frenchman turned away from the fire and began conversing with an unseen person, "I've just been informed by our colleague in Monte Carlo that the win that distracted his followers was from a bet placed by Mr. Black." He licked his lips, "further investigation reveals that the table had been charmed by one of the other players, interviews with the croupier revealed that Mr. Black spent several moments staring at the table before placing his bet. Our colleague also says that this investigation was prompted by the size of the win and that the casino has chosen to honor the best and send it along with a rather substantial reward for fingering the player." The Frenchman turned away from the fire to converse with the unseen person again, "who confessed to being part of a much larger ring of cheaters."

"Thank you," the Praefectus Pratori shook his head, "I suppose it was too much to hope that we could keep an eye on him if he didn't want to be followed."

The other two said their goodbyes and the head of the Praetorian guard wished once again that he had taken the retirement that had been offered the year before.

"Sir," Folochini ran towards his commander, "you're not going to believe this."

"What is it," the Praefectus Pratori closed his eyes and waited for the worst.

"I think I know what Black was doing in the city," Folochini was ready to burst with excitement. "Two days ago Antony Consiglio died, apparently of natural causes. And several of his Lieutenants died on the way to pay their respects in what we thought was an accident."

"You're saying Black killed them?"

"It all came together when I heard about Black's conversation with the head of one of the families," Folochini was shaking in excitement. "Tony Consiglio would have never followed Black's rules, and it's likely his Lieutenants would have followed their boss's lead even after death."

"Sound's reasonable," the Praefectus Pratori nodded. "What do you suppose will happen when Consiglio's son figures this out?"

"So you're saying that you think this man killed my father?" A middle-aged man wearing an expensive set of clothing asked with a raised eyebrow."

"It looks that way yes," another man in another set of an expensive set of clothes agreed, "what do you want us to do?"

"Grab another man," the middle-aged man replied. "Then the three of us are going to this Black fellow's hotel room and then we're going to show the world why they don't mess with the Consiglio family."

"I'll arrange it, Mr. Consiglio," the second man agreed. "When do you want to do this?"

"As soon as possible," Giovanni Consiglio replied quickly.

"Then why don't we just use your driver?" The second man asked with a raised eyebrow, "he's big and knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"Call him, I don't want Black to spend any more time above ground than necessary," Consiglio finished with a cold sneer.

The driver was summoned and in less than an hour, the three of them were standing in front of Harry's hotel room.

"Kick down the door, I wanna surprise this b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Consiglio ordered coldly, "and when the time comes I wanna take this guy out myself."

"You got it, boss," the driver agreed as he brought his ma.s.sive foot crashing into the door.

"Black, I'm going rip out your heart you b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Consiglio cried as he rushed into the room.

Harry looked up from his book at the man who had burst into his room. Dodging the man's first spell, Harry drew his wand and threw a few Reducto's at his mysterious attacker.

How could anyone be that fast, Consiglio cursed to himself as Black seemed to disappear and reappear out of the path of his curses. "Stand still and die you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Diving for cover behind one of the couches in his room, Harry took a bit of time to think. "Accio crazy man."

Consiglio screamed as he felt himself get thrown past his attacker and towards one of the windows that had been cracked in the early stages of the duel. Calling out a stereotypical "NOOOOOOOOO," as he flew through the window he barely had time to realize what a bad idea going after Mr. Black had been before his body hit the street below.

"Boss," the second man called, rushing towards their target.

Turning towards the nearest threat and raising his wand, Harry's quick Reducto reduced the man's wand to splinters but did little to stop the charge and before Harry had a chance to mutter another quick spell he found himself encircled by the man's powerful arms as they attempted to squeeze the life out of his body.

As the edges of his vision began to go black, Harry attempted to break the man's grip and all seemed lost until one of his hand's brushed against the polished bone handle of his new Pugio. Yanking the knife out of its scabbard, Harry plunged it into his attacker's stomach and brutally twisted it when the man's grip lessened enough to grant him the freedom of movement to do so. His head then swiveled to regard the third man, the last man, standing in the door.

The driver stood frozen, too frightened to even scream as the blood-covered figure turned its head to watch him. The two of them stood, staring at each other for untold minutes until the blood-covered figure took its first step forward towards its next victim.

Giving a strangled cry, the driver turned and began running away hoping that speed and distance would be enough to save his life from the monster behind him. Pa.s.sing the elevators in a dead sprint, he flung open the door to the stairwell.

Harry slowly lowered his wand and dagger after the third man had left and took a slow look around the room, absentmindedly casting a few Reparos to fix the broken furniture he sat down on the now undamaged couch and tried to figure out why these things always seemed to happen to him.

If there was one thing that the team a.s.signed to watch Mr. Black was good at, it was surveillance. They had honed their skills through years of playing cat and mouse with the family and they had franticly called for backup when they noticed Giovanni Consiglio walk into Black's hotel along with two of his thugs.

A team of eight wizards arrived just in time to see a screaming man hit the street. Shoulders dropping and fearing the worst, they approached the body to get their first look at the man they had failed to save.

"That's Giovanni Consiglio," one of the surveillance team cried out in shock. "Look at his finger, he's wearing his father's ring."

"Then we might not be too late to help Black," the leader of the strike team replied quickly. "Alpha team up the stairs, Bravo in the elevators."

"Sir," the two teams called out as they entered the hotel at a dead run.

Alpha team bounded up the stairwell, freezing when they discovered another body at the bottom of a flight of stairs.

"Consiglio's driver," another member of the surveillance team that was accompanying them identified the body. "Looks like he was thrown down the staircase."

Pausing only long enough to ensure that the man was dead, they continued up the stairs to link up with the other team.

"On three," the leader of the strike team whispered to his men after they had stacked on the ruined door, "one . . . two . . . THREE."

The team rushed into the room and froze, at the scene that awaited them.

"Is there something that I can help you, gentlemen, with?" Harry asked the latest group of intruders calmly.

"Mr. Black?" The team leader asked slowly, his eyes refusing to move from the b.l.o.o.d.y corpse on the ground to his front.

"Yes?" Harry was having a hard time keeping himself from giggling, "what can I do for you?"

"Do you require any medical a.s.sistance?" The team leader asked nervously, "or any other kind of a.s.sistance?"

"No thank you," Harry shook his head. "But I suppose that you want me to come to the station to talk with you."

"I think that we might want that," the team leader agreed, "is that alright with you?"

"Of course it is," Harry nodded.

"Then would you mind lowering your weapons?" The team leader asked slowly, "they make my men a bit nervous."

"Sorry about that," Harry carefully wiped the blade clean his shirt sleeve then replaced it in its scabbard and his wand in its holster. "With all the excitement it slipped my mind," Harry suppressed another giggle.

"Would you mind stepping outside then?" The team leader motioned towards the door, "so that we can start collecting evidence."

"I don't mind that at all," Harry agreed. "Do you mind if I grab my things first."

"I . . ." the team leader hesitated and then took a close look at the expression on Mr. Black's face, "don't think that will be a problem."

"Thank you," Harry nodded. "Won't take but a minute."

"Angelo, take one man and go report this." The team leader whispered after Black had left the room.

"Yes sir," the man agreed. "Do you know who that is on the ground?"

"Salvatore Carillo," the team leader was again staring at the body. "He was until today regarded as being one of the most dangerous men in Italy, and the main suspect in the murder of my predecessor."

"That's Carillo?" Angelo asked wide-eyed, "Black gutted him like a fish."

"I know that," the team leader fought to keep the impatience out of his voice. "Now go report this."

"Sir," Angelo took one more look at the body before disappearing with a pop. He reappeared outside the headquarters of the Praetorian Guard. Rushing into the building, he nearly ran into his commander.

"Did you get to Black in time Angelo?" The Praefectus Pratori asked the breathless man, "is Black still alive?"

"He's alive sir," Angelo nodded quickly. "And he doesn't have a scratch on 'im."

"So you arrived in time to protect him from Consiglio and his thugs?"

"No Sir," Angelo's shook his head. "We arrived in time to see Consiglio hit the street."

"Tell me everything," the Praefectus Pratori commanded.

"We got there just in time to see a screaming man hit the street," Angelo began. "Black threw Consiglio through a window and we arrived just in time to see the end of it while going up the stairs to Black's room we came upon another body that was identified as being that of Consiglio's driver. And when we got to the room . . . when we got to the room . . ."

"What is it?"

"We found a man with his stomach ripped open, and Black calmly standing over it with a big grin on his face like he had just won a prize." Angelo took a couple of deep breaths, "I wasn't sure why he would be so happy about it until I asked the captain who the dead guy was."

"Who?" The Praefectus Pratori demanded.

"Salvatore Carillo"