MwaM; Ch 19: A Merc, A Minister & A Malfoy

Author's Note: Hello there, this is chapter 19 of Merc with a Mouth. I really hope you will like it.

Important Disclaimer: All the characters in the story have been aged up, and therefore every character is an adult. This is an alternate universe story, which means none of the characters are minors or underaged.

Also, congratulations to our Guildmasters: Camo, I am Lord Dems, StormFox, RyanMK666, PenguGoesVroom, Hydrus Black and Darth Josh! 😇🥰

Now, without any further ado....Let's begin!

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Merc with a Mouth

-Dev Sagittarius Black 

~Chapter 19: A Merc, A Minister, & A Malfoy~

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The old warehouse at Number fourteen smelt like rust, oil, decaying wood and dried blood—a complete mess of tortured idiots and bad hygiene. A lonely bulb flickered overhead, buzzing like a drunk mosquito and bathing a small area in a sickly amber glow. 

The cracked windows were loaded with layers of grime, their broken panes letting in the cold morning air and the occasional insect and rat and bird. The ceiling sagged under years of neglect, thick with cobwebs and the faint rustle of whatever small creatures had claimed it as home.

Wooden crates were strewn around them—some stacked high—stamped with multiple government seals, notices, buyers' slips and rejection parchment along with the traditional ‘Handle with Care’ in red. 

Judging by the scattered bones and blood stains on the floor, that memo hadn’t aged well.

“Got something good, uncle?” 

Wang didn’t even bother to look away from the silver-haired husk of a man whom his honorary nephew had brought into their warehouse last night. The pureblood sucker was suspended upside down from a meat hook, had been stripped naked, and his once pale white flesh bore marks of torture in varying shades of red, brown and blue.

“A lot.” The Asian merc nodded from his seat that was made of another discarded crate. “He was just giving his seventeenth threat before he fainted.” 

“Again?” 

“Yeah.” Wang nodded, languidly picking up a dirty rag beside his leg. “For the fourth time, actually.”

And what was our dear Pussy Lucy threatening with? That same ‘Release me or suffer my wrath’ bullshit?” Harry walked towards the two, sipping from a cup with ‘ThE BesT BrOTHRR!’ written on it alongside a tiny Deadpool mask. “Why is it always that same drivel which they presume would affect us in the first place?”

“Well, no one claimed wizards to have common sense.” Wang shrugged as he cleaned his katana with the rag. “Though he did give out a few things. In between those threats,” He glanced back at Harry. "Do you know something about a Greyback fellow? Apparently he’s some big-shot chump in the werewolf community.” 

“Never heard of him.” Harry denied, “Why though?”

“You killed him last night.” The elder merc glanced at Harry. “Did Rick bring coffee for you? Give me that; I need some energy.” 

“Sorry, old man, it’s just orange juice.” The merc shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “Did he say anything else?”

“Yeah, something about you torturing his son, and then torturing him as well—” 

“Liar! I did no such thing!” Harry denied. “All I did was slap that idiot, Knocker, a few times.” 

“Which got him admitted to the hospital wing?”

“Not my fault that Dicksniff couldn’t even handle a few slaps, is it?” The younger merc finished the brew. “What about it though?”

“Well, long story short, last night’s attack was a plan to torture your client Susan Bones and to kill you for whatever you pulled up with his son and him.” Wang placed the blade down only for Harry to immediately pick it up. “He’s not giving me the names of anyone else who might be involved other than the werewolves, but I suspect that there has to be an inside party for this.” 

“Possible.” Carter nodded, gently examining the runes on the blade. “There’s also a fat chance of that Voldemort idiot being in this as well.”

“Yeah, but this guy's not giving anything else, and his mind shields are still able to deflect my probe when he’s conscious.”

“Let me try?”

“Don’t you have to go to school or something?” Wang frowned at the boy. “I don’t want Moody sniffing down my neck for your negligence.”

“Spinny doesn't have enough of a nose left to poke into my matters.” Harry grinned. “Now shoo.”

“Well, he was poking his leftover nose regarding your history a few days back.” 

“Really?” 

“He probably tried to contact your dad, but since he’s out for a mission, he got me.” The Asian nodded. “I didn’t tell him much, but he knows that Atlas is not your actual dad.”

“How come you couldn’t hide that little titbit?” The younger merc further prodded. “You had just one job, old man.”

“And I did! Moody doesn’t know everything, and he wouldn’t leave me alone until I told him something.” 

“Ah well…” Harry nodded, pointing the sword at Lucius. “We’ll see to it when the time comes. Now, move.”

“Not with Yu Chang, I just cleaned it.” Wang took back his blade as he got up from his seat. “You know, I kinda miss your dad during these. He’s a muggle, and yet he’s able to make his victims blabber like ducks when he wants. I am more suited for fieldwork, not….” He waved at the dangling body of Lucius Malfoy, “...this” 

“Let’s see if I got Dad’s touch for torture.” Harry passed the finished mug to the Asian merc. “It was coffee.” He smiled as he took the recently vacated seat and fired an enervate at the man.

Lucius’s eyes snapped open, a faint flicker of terror returning to his face when he noticed who woke him up. The blonde clearly remembered how Carter had humiliated him the last time they had met in an abandoned place, and he was pretty sure that this time would be worse. 

“Ca-Carter?!”

“Morning, sunshine. Hope you didn’t miss me too much.” Harry grinned as he picked up a kitchen knife. “Time for those long fingers to get a trim, yeah?”

Lucius Malfoy tried to move away—oh yes, he did. He even tried to use his leftover magic so that he could somehow make an escape from his personal hell and the demons who had been using him as a fucking guinea pig for the past eight hours? Nine, perhaps?

Unfortunately, for the blonde pig, the tracker in his Lord ring had been stripped away along with the skin of his left forearm that sported the fancy little snake-and-skull tattoo. The man had been cuffed by magic suppressors as well, which sucked up any magic that he could use to escape the heavily warded building, which prevented anyone from apparating or portkeying out of it.

No sound could be heard outside the abandoned building, and no one would ever guess that within this rotting carcass of a warehouse, the once-proud Lord of House Malfoy was being broken apart piece by piece by two mercenaries, one of whom didn’t just want answers…..they wanted him to remember every scream.

⁂

The news of the werewolf attack spread faster than Seamus' spell gone wrong.

No one actually wanted to believe that Harry Carter and Rubeus Hagrid managed to kill ten of those feral beasts….or seven….or seventeen? Every retelling grew fangs of its own to make it much spicier. 

But the one thing that remained constant through all of it was the fact that Harry and Hagrid had indeed killed werewolves who had managed to invade Hogwarts.

Breakfast that morning was less about bacon and eggs and more about hysteria served steaming hot with a side of speculation.

The Great Hall buzzed worse than Cornish pixies on espresso. Every table—from the raucous Gryffindor to the usually unflappable Slytherins—was alive with theories, retellings, and the kind of whispered gossip that would make The Daily Prophet orgasm.

“Seventeen. I heard it straight from a seventh-year prefect.” A Ravenclaw girl whispered to her friend, who listened to it wide-eyed. “Harry Carter and Hagrid fought seventeen werewolves near the forest. Seventeen bloody wolves!”

“Load of troll dung,” Another Slytherin boy snorted in disbelief when his friend told him that the number of wolves was ten. “It was half of that. My cousin’s in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—They got the report last night itself. Five. And Carter only finished them off after they were half-dead.”

“Maybe Carter is a Dark Wizard,” said another in a low, deliciously scandalised whisper. “You’ve seen his eyes? Too calm. No one smiles like that after killing a werewolf.”

“Please,” groaned a Gryffindor with jam on his chin. “He’s probably just one of those anime heroes — you know, the ‘smile through the trauma’ type.”

That drew a few laughs, but the mirth was thin. The hall still felt off—heavy. Some swore that Carter used dark magic. Others insisted it was ancient runes, or maybe a dragon Harry had somehow summoned. A few first-years whispered about Devil Fruit powers, while one brave soul claimed Harry did it all with a Mighty Morpher.

Not to mention there was the infamous and highly volatile tickle spell theory. Too dangerous for the wolves and too icky for Harry.

“I don’t like it.” A second-year Hufflepuff murmured, clutching her pumpkin juice. “They say one of the wolves even managed to make it inside the castle before Carter stopped it.”

“Inside?” Gasped another.

“Yeah—near the corridor by the transfiguration classroom. Someone saw blood there this morning. Maybe a student was—”

“Don’t.” The speaker was an older boy. “Don’t finish that sentence. They’re probably cleaning up the mess. If it was bad, Dumbledore would’ve said something.”

But Dumbledore hadn’t.

The staff table remained as barren as a graveyard. Instead of filling their stomachs, the professors had decided to give interviews and work with the DMLE by helping the aurors and hitwizards that had been stationed around the castle to investigate how the beasts managed to slink in and why.

The students knew that other than Carter and Hagrid, there were a few who were directly involved in the matter. Susan Bones and Katie Bell had been missing since the morning, and Professors McGonagall and Sprout had entered into the Hall just to call a few who had been friends with the two girls.

Obviously that had brought in a plethora of new whispers.

“I really doubt Carter took down ten werewolves, y’know?” Seamus said through a mouthful of sandwich. “Werewolves ain’t wee pixies ye can swat away! And Carter—nah, he ain’t no bleedin’ superhuman to fight ‘em like tha’, I’ll tell ye that!”

“You said the same thing about McGonagall not being able to turn into a cat, mate.” Dean piped in, “And I still remember your face when she caught you and Ron that first day.”

“Yeah, well,” Seamus pointed his sandwich at him, “That was before I saw her do it, so pardon me for learnin’ me lesson!”

“Still… he did survive, didn’t he?” Nevile joined the conversation as he took a small sip from his goblet. “I don’t think I’d be able to survive werewolves and live to tell the tale. Maybe Carter’s not normal.”

“Aye,” Seamus muttered, chewing again. “Or maybe he’s just got ruddy good luck—fighting off Snape and slappin’ Malfoy like a bitch in heat.”

“Language, Seamus!” Hermione frowned at him. “First years are listening too.”

“Then they’ll learn more than what you’d be able to teach ‘em, Granger,” The Irish boy replied with a crooked grin as he dusted his jumper. “Say, Ron, wha’dya think o’ this whole pish-posh with Carter an’ the werewolves, eh? Surely ye don’t believe some no-name bloke could take down ten o’ the hairy bastards on his own, do ye?”

But Ronald wasn’t even listening as he played with the peas on his plate. The youngest male Weasley’s mind was busy with something else entirely. He still remembered the way he saw his sister getting all mushy with Carter a few days back.

And then there was the scene that he witnessed in the common room when Ginny had been really worried about the newbie’s health after the incident and had rushed out of the common room without even bothering to look at him.

Things were clearly not good, and everyone knew that Harry Carter was a flirt who could charm off the clothes of a statue. He was worried that his sister was going to fall for that reckless cunt, and then the rest of his family would end up blaming him for spoiling their name like that.

He really needed to have a chat with the trenchcoat boy and teach him to stay away from his little sister.

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By the time Harry returned to Hogwarts, the entire ground had been cleaned by the aurors, who had managed to confiscate the six dead bodies of the werewolves who had attacked them. They had also noted down the complete tale of the attack from Susan and Katie, who had been admitted to the hospital wing. 

Unfortunately, Rubeus Hagrid had been unavailable since he was still unconscious and had been placed into a different ward on the first floor of the wing. A few ministry-appointed healers had been allowed to check on him and had asked Madam Pomfrey to tell them if something happened to the half-giant.

The mediwitch had obviously not been thrilled with the prospect of doing so, but she knew that the case was a serious one and had therefore complied without a word.

Harry had returned the moment his fun was interrupted by an eagle patronus that spoke in his benefactor’s tone and asked him to report to the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts as soon as he could.

The moment he stepped through the doors of the Hospital Wing that was thick with the scent of cleaning charms, potions, and antiseptic tonics, he was immediately engulfed in a bone-crushing hug from Megan Jones, quickly followed by Ginny Weasley, who were there for their friend and captain, respectively.

“THANK-YOU! THANK-YOU! THANK-YOU SO MUCH FOR SAVING HER LIFE!!” Megan mumbled into his chest, “She told us everything, and I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there.”

Harry just softly patted her head, “Well, good thing you’d not have to know then, yeah?” 

“True.” Ginny replied from her place beside Hannah, “I really want to kill you for being so reckless, but I’m sure I’ll get my chance later.”

The boy just laughed at her before his eyes fell on the rest of them. He noted that other than the two girls who had rushed to hug him, there were members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Leanne who had surrounded Katie’s bed. 

On Susan’s side sat their friend, Justin, on a stool alongside Tonks, who winked at him from her place near Susan’s bed, but most of all, his attention was pulled by an older woman who was holding the girl’s hand in her own. 

She was a middle-aged witch with a strong, square jaw and auburn hair pulled into a severe bun. A monocle hung from a thin silver chain around her neck, though the faint mark on the bridge of her nose made it clear she wore it often.

There was an aura of authority sharp enough to make even seasoned aurors stand straighter, and within a heartbeat he recognised who the lady was.

Especially since both aunt and niece shared the same passion for over-the-top tits that looked quite big on their petite frames.

“Madam Bones,” he gave a small nod as he was released from the group hug, “A pleasure to meet you.” 

“Please, call me Amelia.” The elder witch gave a small smile as she stood from her seat. “I’ve been waiting to have a few words with the man who saved my niece’s life.” 

“As an aunt or as the Director of the DMLE?”

“Both.” She answered before her attention fell on her niece. "I'll be back in a few minutes, alright, Susie?"

“Please don’t kill him with your questions, auntie.” The younger Bones begged, “He has just returned, and I'm sure he needs rest, and Hannah has also asked me to tell her when Harry returns.”

“Yes, I know, dear.” She smiled, gently caressing the girl’s auburn locks. “I'm also quite sure that Hannah will need a few more minutes with her Auror brother, and isn’t it better that I'm the one getting rid of the formalities than anyone else who’d repeat the same questions?” 

“But auntie—”

“Indulge me, okay?” She gently placed her finger on Susan’s lips. “Let me fuss about you for a few more years.” 

Before the girl could’ve said anything else, Amelia left the girl's side and turned to Tonks. “Tell Poppy that I'm using her office for a few minutes, and don’t let anyone else enter till we’re done.” 

The metamorphmagus gave a salute, and together they watched as the merc and his benefactor went through the doors that led to the matron’s office. She turned to look at the girl, and a small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

“So…my dear, innocent, little, Susie…” Tonks leaned down towards the girl, who blinked at her with big innocent eyes. “Care to tell us more about this mystery knight who’s got you turning red the moment he walks in?”

The redhead could only groan when she noticed the glint in the gorgeously funky Auror’s eyes and instantly knew that the woman was definitely NOT going to drop the matter till she got what she wanted. 

⁂

The first thing Amelia had noticed when she saw Deadpool was the fact that Alastor had been correct about the boy’s uncanny resemblance to James Potter. Everything in the boy’s face could easily be traced to the House of Potter except his vivid green eyes. 

And even though she had seen a photograph of him beforehand, watching the boy live did surprise her, considering how much he resembled the members of one of the most ancient houses of magical Britain.

Hell, the resemblance was so high that if not for the ministerial proof of Harry Potter’s death, she’d have immediately claimed that the boy was actually James Potter’s son.

Even now as the two took their seats across from each other in the matron’s office, she couldn’t help but wonder, what if Carter was actually the Boy-Who-Lived?  

“I know I'm handsome, Madam, but I’m sure that you didn’t call me to an empty room just to stare at me.” Harry grinned as he fell on the sofa beside the woman, who shook her head.

“Just like Alastor and Tonks had told me about you…” She took a deep breath. “First of all, I am really thankful for the way you have saved Susan.” She raised her hand to stop him. “I know it’s your job; still, I don’t think anyone would’ve placed her protection above their own life.” 

“Like you said, Amelia, I had to do it. It’s my job, and I might break a damn lot of rules, but the one we don’t is that we finish the shit we started.”  

“Well, that’s a relief.” She nodded, pulling out a small moleskin pouch from her robes. “Here,” She offered it to him, “Your salary for this month. Five-thousand galleons. I didn’t think of any better way to give it to you than in hand. Also, you’ll soon be receiving a large bounty for killing Fenrir Greyback and his close ones who attacked the castle.”

“How much?” He took the moleskin pouch with a proud smile, his first salary! It was always a special thing for a man to have his first salary.

“I’ll have to check the records for an exact amount, but I'm sure that you’d be able to buy an entire bottle of the Black Barrels with it.” She smiled when his eyes widened a bit. “I think it’s time that you opened a Gringotts bank account here as well, Carter.”

“Nah, I have one in China, and my friendly folks there are way better at handling my money than the grumpy little shits waddling around in that Rivendell of a building you call a bank.” He juggled with the pouch. “So, what else did you want to talk about?”

“A few things, actually.” She leaned back in her seat. “I’ve been told by the girls and Minerva that you killed the two werewolves who had been captured by the professor? May I know why you did so?” 

“I was angry. They had managed to hurt my friends, as well as my pet, whom I’ve yet to check on, by the way.” He shrugged. “No one lives after doing that.” 

“You do realise that your little tantrum has cost us our potential information, don’t you?  We could’ve gotten a lot more about the attack as well as who was behind it by interrogating them.” She narrowed her eyes. “Right now we don’t have anyone whom we could question about who was behind this and what was the reason for the most feared werewolf of Britain to attack the castle like that.”

“You already know the answer, Director.” He leaned back in his seat. “After all, you were the one who sent me that note a few days ago.”

“That was my speculation since someone had already tried to kill me twice before that night had come to a close. Therefore, I had suspected that whoever it was would try to go after Susan.” She sighed a bit, flicking her wand to conjure a small piece of cloth. “I didn’t know that it’d happen so soon.” She cleaned her monocle.

“Do you know who attacked you?”

“Unfortunately, no.” She shook her head, “The first time it was a subtle poison that had been placed in my coffee, and the second time it was a direct attempt by putting one of my aurors under Imperius.” 

“And the auror didn’t know anything about it?” 

“Obliviated. He didn’t remember anything beyond coming out of the Wizengamot session that happened a few hours ago.”

“That’s a shame.” He smiled. “Thankfully, for you, I think I know about who attacked the castle and why.”

“Who?” She frowned at him. “And how do you know that? Was that where you were this whole time?”

“Can’t tell.” He shook his head in denial.

Amelia frowned at the young merc she had hired. Both Moody and Tonks had told a lot of things about the boy, including the fact that the boy was a lot more reckless than her father. 

Yet when she had asked them as to what they thought about his ability to protect Susan, neither of them had denied that he was one of the best wands out there for the job.

“And why so?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you already knew of the attack and still—”

“Calm down, Madam.” He interrupted her. “You think I'd risk the lives of my friends if I knew that a few mutts were going to sniff around? Who do you take me for? Sherlock Holmes?”

“Then why aren’t you telling me about who was behind it?” The witch intoned. “You do know that I am the one who has hired you, right?”

“To protect your niece, not to help your department by giving you intel about secret attacks.” Harry bit back, “Complain if you have any issues with that, not with the extracurricular stuff.”

“Then why are you hiding the name behind the attack?” She tilted her head to look at him. “What do you want?”

“I want—”

Harry stopped when the door to the office was opened once more, and a heavily bearded face came into view alongside golden half-moon spectacles and an irritating grandfatherly smile.

“Hello, Mr. Carter, Amelia.” Albus Dumbledore smiled as he casually stepped into the room. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything special.”

Both Harry and Amelia looked at each other before the former turned towards the Headmaster. “Did someone try to stop you from entering, Headmaster?” 

“Ah, yes,” He nodded, walking towards the sofa. “Young Miss Tonks tried to tell me something about it, but I’m sure—”

“Then what part of ‘Do not enter’ do you not understand, sir?” The boy raised his eyebrow. “This is a meeting between a hired mercenary and his benefactor, so unless you are planning to offer me gold, I’d like it if you left the room as soon as you came.”

“Mr. Carter, I'm sure Amelia wouldn’t mind if I joined the two of you with your discussions. Right, Amelia?” He looked at the Bones woman with his merrily twinkling blue eyes.

“No, professor.” She shook her head. “I actually don’t want you snooping around when I'm talking about something with my people. I’m actually going to have some serious words with Tonks for allowing you inside in the first place.”

The old man’s smile began to fall as he began once more, “Amelia….”

“I think you’re rather busy at the moment, Dumbledore.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be writing apology letters to parents whose children were nearly attacked by the werewolves because of the lack of security at Hogwarts? Be assured, headmaster, that I will raise this concern in the next governor’s meeting and in the newspapers as well. Therefore, don’t you think it’s prudent to manage that fall before you help me and Harry?” 

Dumbledore might have acted like a senile old fool, but he clearly knew a dismissal when he saw one. They were rare, yes, considering that there were a fair few who had any authority to dismiss him like that, but they were there. 

The old man had never wanted to cuss—preferring to leave the rather harsh vocabulary to the younger, hot-blooded individuals—but in that moment he really wanted to shout a grand ‘FUCK YOU!’ to both Amelia and Harry.

The morning hadn’t been good for him with the werewolf attack as well as the DMLE, and he knew that soon enough the reporters from the Daily Prophet would also join the chaos. He had wanted to have a quick chat with the mercenary before the boy met Amelia, but he had failed to arrive on time.

His only dependable source, Hagrid, slept in a silence even magic dared not disturb. And Carter… Albus suspected that the boy would spill everything to Amelia and leave nothing for him.

Which meant that he was going to suffer the consequences of his negligence at the hands of the upcoming minister for magic. 

Neither Harry nor the Director spoke a word till Dumbledore left the office. After which, the boy immediately closed the door and surreptitiously scanned the room for any listening charms that the crafty old man might’ve left behind ‘just in case’. 

Thankfully there were none, and the meeting resumed once more.

“So…you were saying something?” He asked her, smiling when she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I was asking what it is that you wanted in return for telling the name of the person behind it all.” She glared at the boy. “I’ve just fought off Albus Dumbledore for you, and that is going to cost me some serious damage in the next Wizengamot session. So this better be worth it.”

“I don’t want too much from you, Amelia.” The merc grinned. “I just want you to go out on a date with me.”

Amelia Bones—Lady Iron Will herself, regent of the Bones Ancient and Noble House of Bones, as well as the Director and possible Minister for Magic of Wizarding Britain. One of the strongest women in the country, who successfully instilled the fear of her wrath in lesser men, did what every bastion of composure eventually does…

…she completely lost it and choked on her laughter.

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Omake: Deadpool learns about Merc with a Mouth

With a coffee mug in hand, a pair of pink fluffy slippers and bathrobe over his shoulders, Deadpool was...deadpoolish-ly bored as he scrolled through Instagram, liking all the posts about Spiderman, a guy who's name matched with Pulverine and obviously himself.

Deadpool: Man, they're not making any good posts about me anymore... same ol' movie memes, same ol' "Ryan Reynolds this, Ryan Reynolds that." Like, come on people, I've got range!

Deadpool's Brain: What if they're making good stuff under your other name?

Deadpool: You mean... Deadpool?

Deadpool's Brain: No, genius. The cooler one.

Deadpool: …Cool Deadpool?

Deadpool's Brain: Merc with a Mouth, dingus. Google it.

Deadpool: Huh, why not. types aggressively with ketchup-stained gloves

Deadpool: Ohhh what's this? A fanfic with my name?

Deadpool's Brain: And it says Harry Potter too! Maybe the writer gave you a wand! You know any spells?

Deadpool: Accio royalties?

opens fic dramatically

Deadpool: Hmm. I see. I see…point two...fandom is 'Harry Potter only. If you see Marvel references, they're just references.'

Deadpool's Brain: …A fic titled Merc with a Mouth without the actual Merc with a Mouth?

Deadpool: I KNOW RIGHT?! THAT'S LIKE SEX IN THE CITY WITHOUT SEX!

Deadpool's Brain: What're we gonna do about it?

Deadpool: TIME TO SUE DEV BLACK!

Deadpool's Brain: grabs imaginary briefcase LET'S GOOOO!

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Ending Note: There we go! Liked it? Loved it? Needs some changes? Please, do tell.

I am waiting for all your comments. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Once more! Important Disclaimer: All the characters in the story have been aged up, and therefore every character is an adult. This is an alternate universe story, which means none of the characters are minors or underaged.

Thank you for reading and your comments,

With regards,
Dev Black