This story is going to be as fucked up as I can fucking make it.

I'm not fucking joking. A lot of my stories start out fucking dark and depressing and get better as time goes on, in this story I fucking plan to make things as dark as fucking possible, fuck up as many characters as possible and in general fuck around with everybody.

Get you fucking votes in on who you want to be fucked around with.

Now in this story not many of the Harry Potter bad guys will get a happy fucking ending, in fact neither will many of the fucking good guys. It all depends on how badly I fuck them over.

As to the Black Lagoon Characters... it's fucking Black fucking Lagoon, what do you fucking think is gonna happen, everything come out smelling like fucking roses?

Now, the fucking warnings for this story, Swearing (Maybe I should have put this one at the fucking beginning eh), Fucking, Fucking Swearing, Random Nudity, excessive use of the word fuck or some variation thereof, fucking rape, death, blood, more swearing... and Revy (she gets a fucking warning all to her fucking self.)

That should fucking cover everything I fucking plan to fucking do.

Fuckin' A

Black Magic Lagoon

The fucking Beginning

Dumbledore had to seriously wonder why he was in this situation, in a room on a cruise ship that was currently making its way up the side of South Africa; In front of him was a gaudy room with two beds at either side and an open doorway to a too white bathroom.

It wasn't the ship that bothered him; he had travelled like this when a portkey would have given him away in doing things that were for the greater good, things that were in the gray side of the law. It wasn't even who he was in the room with, although that was the source of his irritation. He would have liked to say something, some grand speech that would fix everything; it worked on the ministry, but Dumbledore knew it wouldn't work here, he would have liked to do many things; time travel would have been the most useful. Dumbledore had seen how they had lived he knew getting them to change their lifestyle to fit into what many would term a more normal life would be a lesson in futility; the two eleven year olds were fundamentally broken.

The two children, Dumbledore shook his head to rid him himself of that thought; with what they had seen and the things they had done, they were anything but children. Dumbledore's two... companions, companions would have to suffice until he found a better classification for them.

A boy with messy black hair and green eyes sat with his back to one of the beds, he was wearing a pair of three quarters combat pants, he usually wore a black shirt which was on the bed, and as such he was not wearing it, had a roaring tiger in a design that reminded Dumbledore of a similar design he had seen many years ago in China. Sat in a cross-legged position in front of him was a girl with dark red almost black hair, she wore a black tank top that left half of her midriff exposed and a pair of denim jeans that had various rips in it, on the bed lay a black leather jacket and a red hooded top.

It wasn't even their attire that caused Dumbledore concern, he had seen similar in other less reputable places, worse even. His problem was what he saw in their eyes, in his long life Dumbledore had seen much, he had seen many different looks and the look he saw in his two companion's eyes quite frankly scared him. It was the look of someone who had killed many people, someone who had done many things and above all someone who was 'half-dead' and knew it.

Harry Potter and Revy. It was Harry Potter who was the cause for a desire of time travel, the boy had been instrumental in Tom's defeat ten years ago, it was after that defeat that the remaining death eaters had been on the prowl for the boy.

Dumbledore had used the blood magic Lily Potter had invoked to keep her son alive to send the boy to his Aunt and Uncle's house. That had been one of the greatest mistakes of his life, not the greatest but one of the greatest.

Within hours Harry's Uncle had him removed from the house and gone, how Vernon Dursley, a simple muggle, had got in contact with the more illegal side of life to sell Harry Potter off mystified him. Dumbledore had found out hours afterwards and had set off in pursuit of Harry. Dumbledore had lost the trail in Taiwan after having taken a sea route that had circled around South Africa and Australia.

It had only been two months ago that one Dumbledore's more questionable contacts had informed him of a boy bearing a striking resemblance to James Potter had been working with a company called the Black Lagoon Company.

This had set off several warning bells for Dumbledore, what was a young boy, not even in his teens, doing working for a company that by all reports was a smuggling company that operated out of Roanapur in Thailand, one of the worlds most dangerous cities.

What Dumbledore had worked out that was young Harry had ties to both the Hong Kong Triad and Hotel Moscow, both very dangerous and illegal organisations.

Dumbledore was brought from his musings by the sound of Revy.

"Does this school of yours have any bars nearby?"

Dumbledore sighed having anticipated this question, "There are two, I may be able to convince the owner of one of them to serve you two."

"Fuckin'-A." This response came from Harry who had a slight grin.

Dumbledore let out a sigh but refrained from making a comment on his language, after all swearing was far from the worst of the things Harry had done.

Revy stood up and stretched, "I'm going for a fuckin' walk."

Dumbledore quickly looked at her, "We need to keep a low profile."

Revy gave a laugh that was filled with dark humour, "And if I don't go for a walk I'm gonna turn this fuckin' boat into one giant cluster fuck."

Dumbledore paled, he knew what would happen then, a very high body count.

Harry stood up as well, "Give me a sec and I'll come with you." Harry picked up his T-shirt and put it on as well as digging out a harness that contained two silver guns in the holsters.

Dumbledore panicked, "Harry, this isn't Roanapur, you can't just carry guns around."

Harry sighed and dropped the harness onto the bed, "Will we at least be able to carry them at this school of yours?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment, "As long as no one is killed." As the two walked out the room it dawned on Dumbledore that he had just said a very stupid thing.

"Fuck it's hot." Revy was leaning against the railings on the edge of the ship and looking out to sea.

Harry, who had his back to the sea, laughed, "Ever since that incident with the freezer you've always got hot easily."

Revy groaned, "Don't fucking remind me about that incident, I thought that one was never gonna fucking end the fucking bastard, at least I got paid more for it."

Harry sighed, "We're not gonna fit into this fuckin' school are we?"

Revy laughed, "Not a fucking chance Harry, at least you'll be able to find out about your parents, at least I know the fuckin' story about how mine died."

"Yeah, you shot them, I just want to find out about mine, it pisses me off not knowing." Harry turned around to look out to sea.

Revy laughed, "My mum was a whore and my dad was her pimp and they were both doped up fuckers, not like anything really changed."

Harry nodded, "Like anyone gives a shit about the past."

Upon a higher deck where he could observe his two companions Dumbledore realised why Revy was as bad as she was, that was something that brought him to the verge of tears.

Rebecca grew up in the Ghetto Chinatown of Manhattan, as a chinese-american any form of charity was a rarity. She knew that her mother worked as a whore and that her dad took any of the money she earned and blew most of it on drink, drugs and smokes despite the fact that they both claimed to be devout Christians.

Rebecca didn't really care, when she wasn't at the local run down school or out of the house pickpocketing for her dad she was high on whatever drug her dad decided to inject her with, usually it was Heroin.

If Revy was lucid enough the next day she would go to school although she was still too drugged up to remember how everyone kept away from her and that the moment someone got too close Revy would immediately attack, after she had broken a teacher's arm no one tried to help Revy when she had been injected by her dad.

Rebecca was five when she first tried digging into her dad's stash he had caught her and using an iron bar had beat her within an inch of her life, her mum had stayed sat on the broken down couch in a drug induced haze.

When Rebecca had recovered she had slipped into her parents room whilst they were asleep and took a dose of heroin from her dad's stash and then retrieved the small revolver hidden in the bedside table.

Her dad had taught her three things, how to fight, how to inject herself with drugs and how to shoot a loaded gun. Of all three things he had proclaimed her a natural.

The six chamber revolver was heavy for the young Rebecca, the first shot went through her dad's liver, he was too doped up to realise he has been shot by the time the second shot hit his Jugular artery.

The third shot hit her mum in the temple, she had been so drugged she had never even woke up.

By the time the cops arrived hours later all they found were two bodies and three spent bullet casings. When Rebecca had fled she had taken her dad's drugs, money as well as his revolver and spare ammo.

It was nearly a full year later when Rebecca was just short of being six years old showed up at her school during break time. She was dressed in what remained of the clothes she had been wearing when she fled the scene of her former home.

Her clothes were ripped and frayed and covered in mud and grim and various other substances that showed she had at least partially taken up her mothers profession.

As she approached the school her staggering gait was easily recognizable and the way her hands twitched. The moment she was through the school gate she was surrounded by classmates and a few teachers, this close the teachers could see that Rebecca was sweating heavily as well as the redness of her eyes and dilated pupils. Sticking out of the remains of a pocket was a hypodermic needle.

Her appearance alone made the teachers worry, not to mention how badly her hands twitched and the other symptoms of drug use, her state did not escape notice of her classmates.

"Hey Rebecca, what's wrong?" The young girl who had spoken this never got the chance to say anything else, with an almost exaggerated slowness Rebecca drew the same revolver that she had stolen from her parents and then killed them with.

Before it entered into the minds of the crowd to run or scream or even do anything the first bullet tore through the skull of the girl who had spoken and embedded itself into wind pipe of the boy behind her.

By the time the police arrived they found Thirty-four bodies of young children and the bodies of three teachers. Rebecca was found slumped against the wall a block away with an empty needle that had contained Heroin and an empty revolver.

The police were at a loss of how to deal with Rebecca, a five year old hardcore drug user and mass murderer. Within the first day she was linked to an additional eleven deaths to the thirty-seven killed at her school and her parents adding the title of serial killer to the list.

Within two days the child killer Rebecca and her revolver had gone and the police were four thousand dollars richer.

Did i Succeed with fucked up?

If not i will try harder later on.

Again votes for who you want to fuck over, i have plans for Draco and snape but give me a good idea and i'll take into consideration.