Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Omake Ten: Speed, Aggression, Suprise

"Alright people. Look alive." Kingsley tried to hide his trembling. "You new guys, you've trained for this. It's no different. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Keep your feet under you and mind your corners. You know where to go and what to do. Just do it."

"Easy for you to say," Kingsley grumbled. He felt a fist slam into his arm and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Apparently, he hadn't been quiet enough.

"And remember," Sal continued, "when in doubt, Shack is big enough for all of us to hide behind."

"You'll be big enough once I grab you and hold you up," Kingsley shot back. He didn't quite feel up to the pomp and ceremony their different ranks should demand. Fortunately, Sal was Sal and he let out a loud peal of laughter instead of taking offence.

"How're we doing Eddie?"

"I've got it," the man stated from where he was staring at the distant mansion. "We're ready."

"Alright. Five. . .four. . .three. . .two," Kingsley almost launched himself forward as Eddie made a large, dramatic movement, but he caught himself, ". . .one!" Kingsley apparated. His feet met ground and he almost stumbled, but managed to keep his feet under him. There was an explosion and he stormed into the new hole in the side of the building. His feet followed a familiar path and his wand followed a memorized trail as he moved through the building.

At least, that was the plan, until a meaty arm shot out from around a corner and seized Kingsley's wrist. The other man pulled and Kingsley went down. There was a mad scrambled and Kinsley stared up into the grinning face of Tim Knowles, a bear of a man that had just last week beaten a rookie auror into brain damaged.

Judging by the manic grin on his face, he wanted to do it again and he would, shrugging off stunners until finally succumbing.

Well, that was what he thought until Kingsley's hand closed around his throat and forced his entire upper body away.

Tim batted at Kingsley's elbow and pawed at his wrist as he tried to get his fists near Kingsley's head.

Kingsley stared into his opponent's wild eyes and felt the fear flee him as he realized that Tim Knowles was not the most dangerous man here. Kingsley was. As the fear left him it seemed to flow into the other man and Kingsley felt a savage burst of joy as the man's joyful eyes flooded with terror.

He rolled them and kept the other man pinned to the ground by his throat as he began to rain punches down on his face.

It wasn't clean. It wasn't technical. It wasn't legal. It was exhilarating.

"Alright. Alright. That's enough." Kingsley was jolted back to reality and he turned his head towards the source of the voice. Sal had dragged a chair over and was sitting with his legs crossed and his elbow resting on his knee to support his chin. He had taken off his mask and favored Kingsley with a proud smile. "We'll talk about minding corners later." The older man uncrossed his leg and used one armored toe to turn Tim's head. The completely unrecognizable man gurgled and rattled out a froth of blood.

Kingsley stared down at him in horror as he pried his fingers from the man's throat. He felt a hand run over his bald head fondly.

"You're a good kid."

"I don't like this," Kingsley managed as he stared at his fist.

"That's fine," Sal stated. "You know who did like this?" Kingsley shook his head. "He did." Sal ground his toe into Tim's cheek as the man continued to heave great, wet breaths. "After he did it to that rookie, he liked it so much, he wanted to do it again. I'm okay with you being nothing like him."

"Salazar!" Sal's body went rigid and his eyes widened.

"No way," the man said. "God isn't this good to me. I don't deserve it." He turned slowly.

"Brother!" the Death Eater who was pinned to the ground by another SPIE operative yelled.

"Maximus," Sal whispered, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, please tell me mom and dad are somewhere here."

"Nope," Suzie stated from her perch on the man's back.

"One out of three is a start!" Sal cheered.

-End

Author's quickie drunken rambling. Oooh. Serious time. No really, this is one of those scenes that has been banging around in my head since before the scene with Kingsley and Tonks outside Sal's shop. I just couldn't find a good place to put it. I also don't think it would fit in the sequel since I feel that Kingsley and Sal's personalities have been pretty firmly established with Kingsley being the public servant trying to live up to his idea of what a law enforcement officer is despite his past as a government knee breaker and Sal being an unrepentant monster who views his job as more akin to being a garbage collector, which frankly is still a peerless public servant.

The problem is, people love their blue striped American flags, which is defacement in my opinion, but where's the garbage striped one? You may need cops once or twice in your life. You need garbage collectors at least once a week. Let's show them a little love, eh?

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Omake Ten: Again?

Minerva sighed happily as she leaned back against the bar. She was so happy that she hadn't let her previous run-in ruin her vacation. Sure, she had relocated half way across the world from the French Riviera to Brazil, but Albus had never said she had to stay in one location with his money.

If only her students could see her now. They'd be shocked and possibly horrified by Minerva's predilections for the loud, flashy nightlife of clubs. What could she say? Spending entire schoolyears quietly patrolling the halls and grading homework had made her love flashier times.

Two men slammed into the bar beside her and she dismissed them both as too young to be of interest as she sipped her glass.

"See Nev!" a familiar voice exclaimed in English. "This is fun, isn't it?" The man beside her let out an awkward squawk as Minerva's eyes widened. Her head turned slowly and she found herself staring into the horrified eyes of Neville Longbottom. "What's wrong, Nev?" Harry Potter followed his friend's eye line and stared at Minerva. He grabbed Neville's head with both hands and forced the man to turn his gaze back to behind the bar. "Six mind erasers!"

"Three mind erasers!" Minerva added. The nine shots appeared in a professionally short amount of time and Minerva and Harry slammed down more than enough real to cover all the drinks and tip. "So. . .you, what do I have to do to be rid of you?"

"We're already gone, stranger," Harry stated. They all held up their first shot and pounded them back before slamming the empties on the bar top.

"And how do I avoid you for the rest of my holiday?" Minerva demanded.

"Well, we just came from Ibiza and I was planning to hit New Orleans before I dropped off Neville and went to Lyon."

"Ibiza," Minerva mused, refusing to look at the two who would, in a different time and place, be her students.

"It's a hell of a place," Harry said, his eyes fixed on the mirror behind the bar, "and I don't plan to be back there this entire summer."

"I see," Minerva replied. They both stared as a yard of mind eraser was dropped off in front of the last Longbottom. He had already finished all three of his shots and immediately grasped the three-foot-long glass in both hands. With a determined expression, he put back the entire drink.

The crowd around them went wild as a very attractive woman who seemed to be allergic to clothes stumbled forward to plant a kiss on his lips while another glued herself to his back and began nibbling on his neck.

Neville thrust the hand holding his empty glass up into the air and the whole club cheered.

"Is he going to be okay?" Minerva asked.

"Ah, this won't even make him slur his words," Harry said proudly as he double fisted his last shots. Minerva joined him and they slammed all four glasses down on the bar. "See you in September stranger!" he added, his words just starting to smudge around the edges.

"Try to show up sober," Minerva sniped as she swayed in her seat. What devil had ever considered mixing caffeine and alcohol to be a good idea?

"No promises!"

-End

Author quickie drunken rambles. No. Seriously. Alcohol and caffeine is actually very spooky. Let's just say, when 4 Loko had to fix themselves, I did not have any arguments. Mostly cause the people getting smashed on that shit were underaged brats who couldn't handle their alcohol in the best of time, let along when their alcohol was keeping them awake way past when they should have had nap time.

I still remember road tripping from Camp Lejeune to Myrtle Beach and picking up a water melon 4 Loko out of curiosity. Also, as a Delawarean, wow is it weird to pick up a couple drinks while getting gas.

Anyway, in true man fashion, I took one sip, declared it horrible and handed it to the next man. That can went around the minivan in disgust until it hit the one underage guy who loved it.

He also loved Mad Dog 20/20.

And no, I didn't give a minor alcohol. All of these stories are fabrications. Obviously.

NEXT!

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Omake Twelve: What the Fock?

"Mom, Daddy, this is Sirius and Harry," Sophie stated.

"Hello," Sirius said.

"Hi." The heavily scarred man before them eyed Sirius for a moment before turning his ire on Harry.

"And just how did you meet my daughter?" he demanded.

"Daddy!" Amalie squawked. "I told you, we met at Hogwarts during the Tri Wizard Tournament."

"You did," the scowling man stated, "but why did you decide to start dating a student, if you don't mind me asking."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"What kind of man decides to date a student?" the man pressed.

"Uh, Daddy?" Sophie interjected. "Harry is a student too. He's going into his fifth year." The man's jaw dropped.

"What. . .but. . .wait. . .what happened? Why do you look like that?" he sputtered.

"Like what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I think he wants to know why you look like all of my uncles from his days in the service," Amalie said.

"Service?" Harry wondered. "What service?"

"Why do you look like a twenty-year special ops man?" Amalie's father demanded.

"What's a special ops man?" Harry demanded right back. The man's aggression was starting to tweak Harry's attitude from confusion to combative.

"Let's all take a step back," the older blonde woman interrupted as things started to move towards an all our brawl. "I am Charlotte. You can both call me Charlie. This is my husband Benard. You can call him Bennie."

"They most certainly cannot!" Bennie announced.

"Shake hands," the woman ordered and all of their hands sprung up regardless of their wills. After a tense series of hand squeezing contests, the woman nodded her approval.

"Now, my husband is wondering why you look like most of the men he served with in the GIGN," Charlie explained. She noted Harry's continued confusion. "He wants to know why you look a military veteran who served in bad places."

"Oh," Harry said, finally understanding. "The scars. Well, I've had an interesting life."

"And there's the subtle callsign of the special operations," Charlie grumbled. "This is going to be fun."

-End

Author's quickie drunken ramblings. Yeah, just a short one. I felt that I needed to throw up some kind of Meet the Parents shenanigans with this lot. I didn't think it'd fit into the sequel.

So here's Charlie the auror and Bennie the ex-GIGN private military contactor, along with Booger, the ex-military working dog who has one less eye than most and more combat drops than most. Support your military working dogs. They deserve better than people having to fight to keep them from being euthanized when the military considers them no longer viable.

Also, I hope you bastards respect the amount of effort it took to make Bennie into Bennie and not Piere. I mean, Piere is the Bubba of France. You hear Bubba, you think America. You hear Piere, you think France.

And I wrote that just so I could be the only person to ever compare Bubba and Piere.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Omake Thirteen: False Modesty is Arrogance All the Same

"Well isn't that just a charming little reunion," Draco sneered as he took in Potter and his lackeys making quite the scene on the train platform.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry growled, his eyes narrowing. Draco just smiled blandly back, even as the other students scurried away from the man. Just a little reminder for them all about the Mad Man of Hogwarts before they left for summer break.

"You have a great summer Potter." The man gave no response. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Draco. He was staring over his shoulder. Him and all of his friends. Draco frowned and glanced back to see his parents behind him. He turned back to the gaggle of Gryffindors and their plus one. "Potter?"

"Basilisk skin," Potter whispered.

"Basilisk skin?" Draco repeated in confusion. He glanced back at his parents only to see his mom raised a palm to her face and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Sal," she groaned.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"34D," Ron added in an awed tone.

"I will have words with that man," Narcissus stated. She lowered her hand and glanced at the students before a smirk wormed its way across her face. She subtly struck a pose. "It's 34DD, actually."

"Indeed," Lucius added as he slung an arm around the woman's hips and drew her tighter to his side. His face just radiated smugness.

"Basilisk? 34DD?" Draco repeated. His eyes widened. He snatched out his wand and pointed it at his own temple. "Obliviate!"

-End

Author's quickie drunken ramble. Dangers of having a hot mom. Probably more like, realizing that all your associates consider your mom hot.

-Author's end of chapter drunk rambling. April Fools! Where's the prank? This obviously. There was no update, you just imagined it.

So, finally got back to the shooting range. Been a while. Depression sucks like that. Had to get dragged there by my cousin's husband. It was a lot of fun, but holy shit, do I now know why he didn't want to go to the closest range. They have professional range safety officers and his ass woulda been yeeted the fuck out of their facility. At least he never treated a *loaded* weapon unsafely.

As someone who comes from a background where mishandling a weapon leads to violence, it was hard to watch. And yes, no joke, no exaggeration, no memetic reputation, in the Marines, you fuck around with a weapon you will find out.

And hey, just for fun, someone asked me what the main characters' theme songs would be. It was one of those insidious questions that makes you go huh and then you're laying there at three in the morning staring at the ceiling.

Here's what I've got so far.

Harry: Divide by Zero from the Offspring.

Ron: was Soldier from Fleurie is now I've No More Fucks to Give from Thomas Bejamin Wild ESQ

Hermione: claims Look What You Made Me Do from Taylor Swift is actually Psycho from Aviva

Luna: Feeling Good from Michael Buble because she is just out here living her best life

What do you think?

-Jack

P.S. Here's a hint. You should keep an eye out on the anniversary.