Here is the long awaited Bad End to Blood is not family, I hope you will like it. I will warn you though, it is very dark, so don't come complaining to me if you read it. I'm not entirely satisfied with it either, but I couldn't write anything better for the moment

For those who are interested in musics that might fit the story's atmosphere, I wrote the entire story while listening to these few musics:

Hate the day- Behind the scene

Destroyer-The Birthday Massacre (their other musics tend to fit quite well too)

I don't own Harry Potter or F.E.A.R.

-Epilogue-

-Bad end-

A lonely figure stood at the edge of what had once been the small, wizardry village of Hogsmeade. What had once been a settlement bustling with life was now little more than a ghost town, with houses left abandoned. Despite the magic that should have kept the habitations in good shape, most were already in an advanced state of disrepair, as if something had corrupted the very air itself, slowly eating away at the wood and paint. Wild weeds were sprouting everywhere, yet no flower, nothing save useless, barren grass, seemed to be able to grow.

It had already been over a decade since the death of Lord Voldemort, but unlike what people had thought, said day had not been one of celebration, but one of mourning. On the day the Dark Lord was finally killed, so had been almost three quarters of Hogwarts' students, irrevocably crippling the British magical society. Yet the death of the students had only been the beginning, as those who had fled the castle to save their lives had told the Ministry of the responsible for the massacre, two abominations who took the form of a pair of teenagers, one with deep green eyes, and the other with crimson ones.

The team of Unspeakables and Aurors sent to exorcise or capture whatever the apparitions had been had never returned, and neither had the following ones. After the casualties reached the eighties, the Ministry had no choice but to abandon the idea of reclaiming the castle, lest they end up crippling the population even further. Hogsmeade had, at the time, been considered safe, as the abominations seemed content to settle in Hogwarts. However, as time went by, more and more residents of the village had begun to experience chronic headaches, waves of nausea and dizzy spells. Most had become very paranoid, jumping at the slightest noise, and many had been speaking of shadows shifting strangely, beings roaming the area at night that devoured whoever they caught.

Eventually, most had decided to move, the very few left deciding to stubbornly stay having devolved into shadows of their former selves, screaming and stuttering messes whispering about voices in their heads, worshipping the very beings responsible for their states, as well as their spawn, a child with raven hair and deep orange eyes. The few who had tried to explore the area had either never returned, or refused to speak of what they had seen, never setting a foot outside of their homes at night.

The figure eventually left the village, walking away before the few degenerate inhabitants could sense their presence and try to capture them, either to eat them or to sacrifice to their "Gods". They had a meeting scheduled, and they couldn't afford to be late.

-Break-

From outside, little had changed about the castle, it still stood tall and proud, as it had done for the last centuries. However, if one who was familiar with the building before it was taken over by Harry Potter and Alma Wade set foot inside it, they would have noticed a startling difference. Where before the air seemed saturated with magic, brimming with power, the almost sentient force gently brushing against those that could use it, it now felt empty, dead. Instead of a warm feeling of safety, a visitor would feel as if something beyond their comprehension was sneering at them from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to break their mind and corrupt their body.

No matter the hour of the day, a crimson glow always seemed to bathe the inside of the castle; making shadows stretch unnaturally, distorting them into dark, twisted reflects of what they once were. Howls could be heard periodically, as if a group of wolves, or some similar animal, were hunting inside the castle's walls.

The animated paintings that populated the place were either gone, burnt either partially or completely, or silent, having learnt that making noise was a bad idea, as it only served to draw the attention of the Dark Lady and Dark Lord that now called Hogwarts home, as well as their spawn. At first, many had openly insulted the teens, not willing to believe that two upstarts Dark Witch and Wizard would be all it would take to end Hogwarts' glorious history as a school, however the newcomers had shown little care, simply incinerating the portraits that caused too much of a ruckus.

A few had still managed to form something of a bond with the pair, even if said bond was weak at first, neither of the teens caring about what they were told to do, but at the very least they were polite when not angered, which was more that many of the living portraits could have hoped had Voldemort taken the school.

The ghosts were still there, tied to the place by their own choice, since they could not simply "up and leave", although they had become far more discreet after Peeves had been harshly punished for making the pair's son cry. The poltergeist still hadn't fully recovered, even now, ten years later, and he usually fled the pair whenever he could.

The creak of the large doors of the castle opening suddenly broke the silence, making the portraits closest to the entrance look at the gigantic doors in resignation. While the last person to enter the castle had only done so a few months earlier, it had been a mad wizard worshipping the Twin Ones as they called them, and he had been killed swiftly. There had been times when people entering the castle hadn't been killed, but they were rather rare.

"Run, whoever you are!" hissed one of the portraits, a young woman in a Victorian dress, as she glanced around fearfully. "They'll kill you!"

The intruder ignored the woman, as he knew perfectly well that his entrance had not gone unnoticed. In fact, he had expected it, and even counted on it.

"What are you doing here?" asked a voice, making the man turn and look into the twin green eyes of Harry Potter.

Reaching for his hood, the man took it off, showing unkempt raven hair, and a face startlingly similar to the one of James Potter.

"Hello, Harry." smiled Sirius Potter.

-Break-

Sirius was tired. It had been over a decade since his family had been killed, he himself had only been spared because he had been blasted into a table and then carried out by another student, while his brother had proceeded to kill off the entire student population of the castle. He had hated his brother for what he had done, for taking his family from him, but he knew that if one really wanted to push the blame on someone, then they had to do it on those responsible for Harry and Alma's states. Still, his hatred had not abated in the slightest, even with that knowledge, and he had often tried to sneak into Hogwarts during the last decade, however each time he had approached the castle, he had been Stunned by a team of Ministry Aurors, and dragged back to Potter Manor.

As things were, the Ministry had decided that as the last Potter, and the Boy-Who-Lived, Sirius was too precious to allow to come to risk, and as such had several Aurors to keep an eye on him at all times. No matter what he did, he was eventually caught and dragged away from the only place he wanted to go to but wasn't allowed to. He knew that he stood no chance against Harry, he had seen firsthand what he could do, and if he and his girlfriend could take on a team of experienced Aurors and Unspeakables, the odds of him succeeding at eliminating them were so low they might as well not exist. He didn't care, however. All he wanted to do was to face his twin one last time, and either be killed, or to kill him.

It wasn't as if he had anything to love anymore anyway, all of his friends had been killed, as well as most teens around his age. The older wizards and witches saw him as nothing but a political pawn, and treated him like he was made of glass, giving him simpering lies every time they saw him. He was tired of this life, tired of merely existing.

He had planned for this day for the last six months, taking care to slip out of the Aurors' grasp, and, knowing that they would search him around Hogwarts first, he had waited until they had left to leave himself. He had also taken care to tag them with a spell that would attract every one of Hogsmeade's inhabitants should they set foot anywhere near the village, so he was certain to be left to his own devices.

And now, here he was, staring at his twin. He couldn't help but smile happily at the sight of the green-haired freak his brother had become, since it meant he was finally, finally going to be able to move on with his life…

-Break-

Alma didn't even bother looking up when Harry entered the room, the both of them always knew where the other was, so it wasn't like she needed to show him she was aware of his presence. She was cradling their son in her arms, the baby with wide, orange eyes gurgling happily as it played with his mother's hair. One could wonder why, after over a decade, the psychic's son was still a baby, but the truth was that he, like them, was dead, and only lived as an imprint of his former self.

When Alma and Harry had gone to recover their child from Armacham, they had made the mistake of thinking that the multinational corporation wouldn't dare harm their son, since he was too precious for their future research. They had been wrong. An old woman, dressed like someone fairly high-up in the hierarchy, had pointed a gun at the toddler, and told them to surrender, lest she kill their son. They hadn't listened.

Harry would never be able to forget the agonized scream of Alma, and his own, when they watched, frozen in shock, as Genevieve Aristide shot their son, a baby, at point blank range, without so much as a twitch. He didn't remember much of what had happened afterwards, only that Alma and him had slaughtered the entirety of Armacham's forces, and had made sure that Genevieve Aristide was forever stuck in Limbo for what she had done. They had then come back to Hogwarts with the corpse of their son, and had used the ambient magic to power themselves up enough so that they could drag their baby's soul back from where it had disappeared when he had died.

They had taken the castle for themselves, as they felt they deserved it for suffering through lives that should never have been, lives they had lived only because people had been greedy and selfish. Well they could be as well, and had made sure that anyone intruding in their new home was properly punished for their actions.

How did it go? She asked, her mental voice brushing softly against Harry's mind.

He's dead. He wanted to kill me or die trying. He didn't suffer.

She nodded. Sirius was a victim, just as they had been, and it would have been unfair to make him suffer. Now that he was dead, they would hopefully be left alone. All they wanted was to be left in peace. Even if they were stuck on Earth until the end of time, they'd at least be able to finally live free.

If it took murdering every single person that ever set foot in the castle, then so be it.