Bronze Galleon - My goal with this one was to explore the magical world a bit more. Harry is taken from Godric Hollow by a thug and sold to a Goblin in Babylon. There he meets his best friend, a house-elve that is free of the curse that plagues the houseelve species. To make a name for themselves they go out to steal their first bit of loot. They steal a bit of Bronze and a Galleon - names that should stick to them. They join the Varangian Guard and get trained to be mercenaries. Their first real mission takes them to Hogwarts. That is where I stopped writing as I realized I had lost the focus on what I wanted to do with this story.
I still think that legendary cities like Babylon hold great potential for stories (as you will see time and time again in my dumped ideas), but I haven't figured out yet how to do it in a way that it is both interesting to readers and myself.
Chapter 1 : Call me Coal.
"I am speaking Babel."
1st November 1981 – 1:00 am - Godrics Hollow
Albus Dumbledore was a great leader, a powerful warrior and the greatest thinker of his time. He had conquered mighty foes, subdued monsters, animal and human alike. Without arrogance he could say that he was as close to being omnipotent as a single human could be.
Yet, there he stood, before the ruins of the cottage that once was the home of the Potters and he felt, for the first time in ages, tears rolling down his cheeks. James and Lily Potter laid slain by the Killing Curse in the still smoking ashes of their home. Their faces were covered in blood and dirt, their eyes so horribly empty. Their son, Harry Potter, was gone. Dumbledore guessed that he was pulverized by the same explosion that had ripped Voldemort apart. A blow so powerful that it destroys the shields of a Dark Lord would easily erase the body of a toddler from the face of the earth.
Not in his life did Dumbledore guess that 'mark him as his equal' would mean that the Dark Lord would just kill the other. He was so sure, so absolutely convinced that he would find their young savior in the ashes of the house. When the news of the attack reached him he immediately began to plan the life of the boy. He would form him into a warrior, not unlike himself. Loyal to his friends and the cause, eager to protect those around him without much regard for his own safety. A knight in shining armour, coming from the ancient family of Potter to protect the realm, the people and the peace.
But now, this hope was gone and he had to redirect his efforts towards the still living child. Neville Longbottom would have to take Harry's place. The Potters, the entire family, died as martyrs and would be remembered as such. He would see to that himself. Not only had they been his comrades, his most loyal soldiers, they had also been his friends and former students. He had seen them grow up and looking onto their dead bodies felt like seeing the lifeless bodies of his own children. No more of James' pranks, his horrible jokes and contagious laughter. No more of Lily's kind eyes, soothing words and wisdom. No chance of ever seeing their son grow up, of playing the role of teacher, mentor – grandfather for him.
"PETTIGREW!"
Dumbledore turned around to see Sirius Black in a way he had never seen him before. He knew a man with soft smile, sometimes mischief in his eyes and expression, when he was about to fight or protect.
The man with the black hair, aristocratic face and elegance looked like a raging vampire, like a werewolf about to turn. He was ready to kill, to seek vengeance.
"Calm yourself, Sirius!" Dumbledore ordered. "We will find the traitor and bring him to justice, but you must calm yourself."
"He must die, Dumbledore. I will find him and I will kill him with my own wand – my own hands if I must. The rat betrayed them! He betrayed his friends! Look at them!" He screamed and gestured towards the two bodies lying in the rubble. His voice crackled, was hoarse and told of his pain.
Dumbledore walked towards him and a quick flick with his wand raised anti-apparition wards around them. Sirius didn't notice the small wand-gesture. He didn't even notice Dumbledore walking towards him. All he saw were the two bodies of his friends, dead and all he felt was a world devouring rage, blinding him, suppressing his other emotions until the only thought in his mind was to kill Peter Pettigrew. He would suffer first, then he would scream in pain until Wormtail would beg for his death at his hands.
Sirius didn't understand Dumbledores words. He heard him speak, he heard his sentences but they didn't make sense. Calm? The word had no meaning, no context. All he understood was that the rat must die. He must die tonight. He turned and thought about Pettigrews house, somewhere in a muggle village.
All he did was spin around. Why couldn't he apparate?
"Sirius! You must not blindly rush into this. We will find him, I promise. But we must not loose our minds."
Sirius looked at the old wizard with a mixture of confusion and anger. "How can I? They were all I ever had! They're gone! How...? I just... ."
"We all loved them, Sirius. But they died tonight bringing down Voldemort. They are heroes and they have given us a chance. Think about it! Sirius! The way is free. We can change Britain. But we need you!"
Any other person and Sirius would've hexed them on the spot. But coming from Dumbledore, the unusual tone of desperation and sadness affected him. The old wizard was always so cheerful and wise, appearing a little detached from, and above the puny problems of mere mortals. Sirius had never seen him so pained, so broken before. Tears ran down the old wizards cheeks and vanished into his long white beard. And yet, he asked him to calm himself, to think, to be rational. Sirius couldn't do it. Not now, not in a few days, not in weeks. But the old wizard was right. Now was the time to clean up and make this nation a place where James and Lily would've loved to live. He would make them proud.
However, for now, he sat down on the cold concrete and cried. The people of his life, his family, was gone. He would cry until his eyes hurt, until his glances dried out and his lungs burned from his screams of agony.
_BG_
Earlier
Copper had never thought that being friends with Peter Pettigrew would make him a lot of profit. He was well aware that the little pushover was a pretty worthless allie. But Pettigrew was comfortable to talk to, a quiet drinker with a loose wallet and well connected in the world of underground groups, thieves and headhunters. He knew the Order as well as the Death Eaters and Copper used this connection to provide smuggled goods to both parties. Making a deal with Pettigrew was as easy as selling a child sweets. He accepted slightly overpriced goods, he never asked for refunds or additional services. All he wanted was a clean and quick deal. Copper liked that.
When Pettigrew asked him to come along and promised the chance to get his thieving hands into the Potter Cottage in Godrics Hollow, he didn't say no, of course. The Potters were well known for two things, their riches and their modesty. He had hoped to find jewellery, expensive books and artefacts, fast brooms and, of course, lots of galleons.
Instead he found himself inside a raiding party of the Death Eaters without the chance to get his ass out of there. Pettigrew had told his master, the creepy looking Voldemort that sent shivers down Coppers spine, that he was a master wardbreaker.
Normally, Copper would've been eager to do this, no matter for whom. But the Dark Lords 'payment' was Coppers life and if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure if that was enough. Copper was well aware that the world would be a better place without him on it. But survival instinct kicked in and he did it anyway, hoping that he wouldn't find himself on the receiving end of a Cruciatus.
Pettigrew was the secret keeper for the Potters and it disgusted Copper that he gave the ward-key to the Death eaters with a grin and longing eyes towards his master. Being the secret keeper was almost synonymous with being a best friend, a loyal comrade, a trusted allie. In Coppers mind, Pettigrew was now scum. Worth just about as much love as the rodent he could turn into. There weren't much rules in the underworld, but betraying those who came to trust you with a secret of such magnitude, was one of the golden ones you just didn't break. Period.
The remaining wards were easy enough to break since having a Fidelius around your house basically removed your house from the world. One cannot access what isn't in one's reality. It would be the perfect defence, if it wasn't for traitorous vermin as your secret keeper.
Copper stayed out of the house, and let the Dark Lord do his own work. Screams and shouts came out of the house. The light of curses illuminated the night for split-seconds. One sickly green light and the mighty shouts of the male Potter were gone. Some time after that, another green light. The lacking of female screams filled the air with dreadful silence. One last green light.
BOOM
Godrics Hollow shone brightly green as vast amounts of energy exploded from the cottage and threw the Death Eaters, Pettigrew and Copper a few meters back where they landed on their butts or backs. When Copper looked up to the house he saw a giant hole in the middle of the cottage. Voldemort was gone. The explosion had evaporated his body.
Copper always knew that wizards were, essentially, cowards. More so, wizard rebels and fanatics. The Death Eaters saw the demise of their master and ran for it. Whatever had destroyed their master couldn't be healthy for them either. Copper was about to run too when the thought of profit overruled his natural instincts. Half of the Cottage was still standing. What if there was plunder to make?
By the time he decided, the entirety of Voldemorts entourage was gone. He slowly moved towards the Cottage, listening if he could maybe hear whoever defeated the Dark Lord. No sounds, other than the cracking of burning wood and the drops of water from destroyed pipes could be heard.
He entered the cottage and found himself in what appeared to be the living room. Systematically he searched the drawers and typical spots for hidden items. Nothing. He went on into the library and found a few galleons in a leather wallet in the drawer of an oaken desk. Enough to buy drinks until he'd forget the night, at least. In the rest of the rooms was more worthless rubble, some sickles but all in all it reminded him of his childhood in the streets of Babylon. Small money for big effort.
Copper was about to leave the house when he heard a child crying. He stopped in his tracks and listened closely. The cries came from upstairs. All his sense told him to just run for it and search for the next pub, but once again, his instincts surrendered to his profit oriented character. He climbed the stairs slowly and followed the screams of the child until he reached the room that had been blown apart earlier. In the middle of it, in a destroyed crib, stood a dark haired, green eyed toddler. A scar in the form of lightning stood prominent on the boys forehead and dried blood that had run from there covered his right face. Other than that, the looks of the boy made Copper rethink his strategy to drink himself into oblivion tonight. After all, he just made big profit.
_BG_
1st November – 4pm – Babylon Byzantinian Streets
"Copper, my old friend, what am I to do with a boy?" asked the old goblin in front of the thieve. His clothes were of finest silk from chinese silkworms. His rings made from the dwarves and his own brethren shone in the cold blue of mithril and the dazzling yellow-brown of galleon gold. He was the owner of the biggest brothel of Babylon and the undisputed king of the Red District. Oklok the Rich was a menacing person, but to Coppers delight, relatively easy to read.
"Don't tell me you have a lack of customers that swing the other way." Copper reputed confidently. He had seen it in the goblins eyes, he wanted the boy. This right now was just to get the price low. "Also, I doubt your servants have lost the ability to change the sex of young humans."
"He has a scar on his head. My customer want cuteness, not war veterans."
"Then use make-up. Tell you what. The scar gets you 50 Galleons off." Copper reached out with his hand and the Goblin grabbed it tight. Now business began.
"200 Galleons off."
"60, you thieve."
"Says the thieve. 170!"
"90! I want to make profit here, I'm no charity."
"And I'm no kindergartener. 150!"
"I'm going to 120, but thats the last call."
"140 and you get a free round with my latest merpeople girl."
"Deal!"
"Deal!"
With a nearly violent shake of their hands they settled the the unwritten contract and a servant of Oklok counted down several small sacks of galleons. Copper rubbed his hands as he watched more and more coins going into a single big satchel. The day had been productive, profitable and he already looked forward to satisfy his more exotic tastes in female company. Good deals, good times as he always said.
After the servant counted 1834 Galleons into the satchel, he handed it to the thieve who eagerly grabbed it and stood up. He bowed slightly to the goblin who smiled at the thieve the most disgusting smile he was able to produce. Oklok hated thieves, and even though they fueled his business, he hated slavers and haulers even more. "Your girl will be ready soon enough. A servant will guide you to the pool once she had time to prepare."
With that promise in his ears, Copper left the business room. The heavy cypress door shut close and Oklok turned around to his servant, a young satyr slave that had proven to be remarkably good with money and business. He had even granted him the right to a name, Orian.
"Orian. Make sure that this thieve gets his part of the contract and remove him from my establishment after that. I cannot have my clients see the likes of him hanging around later tonight. Also, do not give him the new girl. One of the more recent girls will suffice. He doesn't know anyway."
"As you wish, master." came the faithful voice of Orian. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes. See to it that the boy there gets turned into a girl and then give him... errr... her then, to Mama Xen. I have no desire to see another toddler getting destroyed in one night. Bad business, that. She will be offered to our clients when she's tall enough. I'll leave the newborn prostitution to the lower tier brothels. Its a disgusting practice anyway."
"A wise decision, master. I shall see to it."
_BG_
Mama Xen was never one to doubt her master Oklok. He had proven time and time again that he was capable of running this big business of his and his decisions had only helped to further its value and reputation. Back in her days, when she had been one of the serving girls, Oklok was new in the district. He had money but no connections, ideas but no partners to realize them with. It had taken him not even three months to take over. A master manipulator, businessman and gangster. If he'd been born a human, she'd had even tried to become his wife. He was, however, a goblin and quite proud of it, so she was content with managing his investments, or to be more precise, the children he wanted in his service as soon as they were old enough.
She was a stern woman with grey hair and brown skin, her eyes a golden brown that shone with a mixture of kind and hard, depending on her mood. Her wrinkles made her too old looking to work, but anywhere else she'd be considered a beauty. Age meant well with her.
She looked sceptical at the baby girl in Orian's hands. The young satyr and especially the toddler in his arms reeked of the chemicals and substances the alchemists used to alter the body of newborn children and toddlers. Judging from the amount of black liquids streaming through the veins of the child, she had probably been a he just a few hours ago. One more nobody girl to fill the ranks of the Red District. She didn't quite understand why Oklok would turn her. There weren't many male seducers and those who did exist were expensive. They were the luxury items in the inventory of every brothel. 'Artificial shortage' she reasoned and took the child from the hands of the satyr.
It was a cute girl. Her black hair, short as they were reminded Xen of the elegant geishas in the east asian districts. Her eyes were of a stunning green, like grinded emeralds from the dwarven mines. The moment the black potions in her bodies would wear off, she'd be an angel of a child. Oklok had, after all, a hand for good business.
The potion had made the girl tired and she slept tight in the sparse linen covering her body. Mama Xen took her into the living quarters of the brothel. She passed the small ponds in the first level that led to the merpeople quarters deep under the surface, took the first flight of stairs and climbed them until she reached the children's quarters right next to the bedroom of the houseelves. Its was a simple room under the roof of the house. The kids of the brothel had their beds there, some toys but mostly they had each other. They didn't have names, not officially. It had taken Mama Xen a few years until she found out how they named each other. New ones were named after their hair color and then they'd get names describing their first customer.
As she laid the child into an empty crib, the other kids rushed towards her and gazed at the newcomer in curiosity. The oldest among them, a girl named Anvil, 8 year old and with brown hair took the lead and analysed the child briefly before she declared "Coal." The children around her nodded in agreement and then proceeded to greet Coal.
Mama Xen knew that she wasn't needed anymore. The children would take care of her from now on, for most of the time. As long as she provided food and some direction, the kids raised themselves. She wanted to leave the room under the roof when she was interrupted by a old looking houseelve who's name she had forgotten.
"Miss Xen. There is a new elve born. You must look. Binki believe she is different." said the grey skinned elf while bowing deep before Xen.
"Different?" she asked.
"Yes. Nose, face, mouth, eyes all different." the houseelve answered unhelpful and gestured towards the elves quarters. Xen turned around and walked into the bedroom for the houselves. They slept in drawers, cupboards and on the floor on cardboard and pieces of linen. Xen always thought that it was fitting for them to be stored like objects. They were treated like property anyway.
Binki beckoned her to a corner at the far end of the room where the elves took their females to give birth. It was covered with a few tiles leftover from the construction of the building. Easy to clean. On the white tiles laid a younger elve with a small bundle of linen in her hands. Xen was surprised to see the young elve looking even more miserable than they did naturally. Her eyes, usually so quick to focus onto the masters were fixated on the elve baby in her arms. It took a while before she realized the stern look of Xen on her. With a helpless expression she removed parts of the linen to expose the face of the newborn.
Xen startled at the sight. The normally so crooked and ugly nose of the elves was gone. In its place was a petite, almost human nose. The eyes were smaller and in exchange her ears bigger. The mouth, wide and often misformed with other houseleves was straight, with thin lips. The biggest difference, however, were the few white hair on its head. The baby was... not unpleasant to look at. If Xen was honest with herself she had seen uglier human babies before. But given that it was an elve, she was crept out.
"What is this? Why is the baby so... so..." Xen couldn't find words to describe what she saw. She just gestured wildly at the face of the baby until she realized that the houseelves were as clueless as she was.
"We don't know, mistress. Baby is... not elve." the old houseleve said quietly. "Mistress take it away."
Xen's mind was racing. If it would've been her own elve, she'd have killed it by now with a Reducto in the backyard. It crept her out, it made her shiver. But it wasn't her houseelve, it belonged to Oklok and he was not one to joke about killing intelligent creatures, let alone his property. So what to do with this creepily cute abomination?
Xen decided to not decide. The kids would do with it whatever they liked. Keep it as their pet or drop it from the window, she wouldn't be responsible. So she took the small creature and held it far from her. A few quick steps and she was back in the childrens room where she opened one of the drawers and placed the elve into it.
She was about to walk away when the sight of Anvil coming to the drawer made her stop. The girl looked at the elve with the same serious curiosity she had shown when looking at Coal. It took her a while this time. Anvil's gaze became harder as her forehead wrinkled in concentration. Then she walked back to one of the beds, picked up a ragged book and moved a few pages until she seemed to find what she was looking for. She tossed the book onto her bed and walked back to the drawer where she said with some sort of pride "Snow.".
_BG_
Chapter 2: Making a name.
"I am speaking Babel."
26th August 1987 – Babylon
Coal loved the streets of Babylon like she loved the smell of caramel and the feel of silk. In her head those things were one. The streets smelled like caramel coming from the many open kitchens, the sand in the small alleys felt like silk between her toes, and the street made the silk of the seducers softer, the caramel they served the customers tastier. Babylon was wonderful.
The five districts around the Ziggurat, the emerald, ruby, sapphire, gold and silver district, were an adventure every time she walked through them, looking for exciting things to see and standing guard for the other kids who were watching for loot and plunder. Wealthy people, powerful people, interesting people roamed the streets and all ignored the small black haired whirlwind and the even smaller white haired ball of quick paws on her shoulders.
Snow shared her love for the districts with her best friend, Coal. She couldn't walk there, or she'd be trampled over. She was content with sitting on her friends shoulders, looking out for guards or soldiers who would snatch the other kids. For the people walking by them it may look a bit odd. A houseelve, an abnormal looking one at that, with huge bat-like ears, white short-cut hair, sitting on the shoulder of a european girl with black marks, looking like veins and a big red scar in the form of lighting on her face.
Coal had her hair tightly bound behind her head. She refused to cut it since it was the main thing that made her look somewhat pretty. It was long and floated around her shoulders and back in black waves. Beautiful to look at, impractical for the streets of Babylon. Especially today when they would make their first grab.
It didn't matter what they'd steal. It could be anything as long as it belonged to someone else. But more important than that was that it would determine what adult name Coal and Snow would get. It wouldn't do to be called 'Air', like the clumsy elder boy who was caught his first time. Coal and Snow would also like to avoid being called 'Apple' or 'Stone' or whatever safe grabs there were. Its showed so much weakness to the others and especially the two of them could do without any more ridicule.
Its had become clear to Snow, rather quickly, that she was fundamentally different from the other kids. Her kind was supposed to be slaves, depraved of individual needs beside to serve their masters, and just like that Snow was treated by some of the kids. Snow never felt that she wanted to serve, quite the contrary. If anyone would ask her she'd tell them that she wanted to travel the world. Coal had been the only one to ask and found the idea so amazing that she made it her own dream as well. Since then they were together, the houseelve and the blackblood.
Coal hated the name 'blackblood' with a passion. Mama Xen had told her once that she had been a boy until she was about one year old. Then their owner, Oklok, had decided that she needed to be a girl. Why that was, Coal never found out. But the potion that was supposed to turn her, left her blood black like oil. It made her veins stand out, the white of her eyes take on a weird shade of grey and her gums look like they were rotten. She looked like some of the Undead that roamed the streets of the Helheim District and was a financial desaster for Oklok, or at least that was what Mama Xen had told her. Oklok has yet to throw her out. Coal was such a fitting name for her and therefore she hated it almost as much as blackblood. But today she would show all of them. She'd come home to the room under the roof and be called Sapphire, or Mithril, she was sure of it.
"You see someone interesting, Snow?"
"Nu-uh. Some jewellery, but all on their necks. I don't think we can do that." Snow answered quietly even though the sound of the street silenced their voices for anybody who wasn't leaning down to them.
"I don't think so either. Do you suppose you could finger some of those daggers from the dwarf?"
"No, could you?"
"Definitely not." Coal said quickly. She was much worse at stealing than Snow was. The young houseelve had trained a lot, while Coal preferred to daydream about things like living in the palaces along the Silk Road. Also, her elven magic didn't make things more difficult for her. It was almost unfair, thought Coal.
"We could just walk around a bit and see if there's an opportunity."
"Sounds like a plan, Coal." the houseelve whispered in her ear. She was nervous, Coal could feel it. Her heart, beating rapidly by default, accelerated even more and felt odd against Coals back. Her voice became silent and faint as if she needed to keep a secret. But what Coal was very worried about was the accidents Snow had when she was nervous, or afraid. She'd apparate into either the room under the roof or to her side. The second one wouldn't be so bad, but if she'd apparate home she'd be called Air. Given her default low place in the children's hierarchy, that could mean for her to be kicked out. The oldest girl and therefore their leader, going by the name of Judge, after her first client, was a mean person who didn't like both of them. They'd show her today.
"Don't be nervous. I'm with you. We can do this!" whispered Coal encouraging to Snow. What the houseleve had in her quick hands and magic, Coal had in her heart. She was small, petite really. Her head was often in the clouds and she was, in general, a kind and caring person but she was also stubborn, proud and stout-hearted when it counted. She looked out for herself and even more so for Snow. They had even begun to sleep cuddled together to at least pretend that the other could safe them from whatever threat they had to face, even though, the only one with a reasonable chance of beating anyone was Coal.
They began to stroll through the busy streets of the emerald district, where officials from the ruby district and artists from the sapphire district came together to buy at the big market. Most of them were humans, some were centaurs, goblins, dwarves and satyrs and from time to time one could see a harpy, lamia or dryad find her way into the city. Babylon was famous for its variety of magical species that lived together in what could best be described as cease-fire. Coal and Snow kept their eyes out for the women that the older kids called 'trophy-wives'. Coal figured that name came from the disgusting amounts of gold on them, but wasn't really sure. They were often easy game since they often enough didn't even recognize that something was gone. But there was no such luck today, it seemed. All the two of them saw were busy people with concealed wallets.
They simultaneously looked up to the sky and saw to their horror that the sun was already becoming orange at the horizon. They had to be back by night, before the customers came, or face a night on the streets and even worse, they'd be called 'Air' the next morning.
"We need to find something, quickly!" Coal hissed.
"There! The guy talking to the centaur!" Snow answered excitedly. She pointed at a middle-aged man, with common robes and a small wallet hanging from his hips standing beside a street shop, talking to a centaur with brown fur and muscular upper body. He looked tired, Coal thought but then shook her head and focused again. She had to do this.
With purpose she slithered through the many legs and bodies filling the street and walked in a small curve towards the man.
He was intimidating up close, and the centaur seemed so gigantic. Coal froze at the sight of them and had to be pinched by Snow to get out of her stupor. She shook her head again and walked quickly to the man so that she would pass him closely. When she reached the side of the street Snow jumped from her shoulders and climbed a wooden pole to reach the top of the pavilion that protected the street shop from the sun. She ran into position just above the two men and waited until Coal was less than a meter away from the wallet. She jumped onto the table, and landed on her butt in an controlled way, making as much noise as possible.
The men jumped in surprise and looked gobsmacked at the tiny houseelve. "Oh boy, I'm sorry." Snow said sweetly.
Coal took the chance and grabbed the wallet, her quick fingers making easy work of the latches. One open, two open and the wallet was hers.
"Hey!" the man shouted and turned around quickly. Coal barely avoided being smacked by his backhand and made a run for it.
"Damnit! Thieves! Catch them!" she heard the centaur roar while the man shouted at the guards on the other side of the street.
"Snow, wheres Snow?" Coal asked herself while running zig-zag through the people on the street as fast as her legs could carry her. A pop behind her ear and suddenly a weight hung on her shoulder.
"I got a golden one. RUN!" Snow screamed into her ear in a high pitched voice. "They follow us!"
Coal immediately regretted looking over her shoulders. The gigantic centaur charged at them, throwing people out of his path left and right. He had his spear in his right hand and held it up, ready to throw it.
She made a jump into a backalley, dived over crates and went deeper into the district. Left. A broader sidestreet with fewer people. She heard the centaur roar behind her and the crates they just jumped over got flinged onto the street behind them.
"He's faster than you! The roofs!" Snow yelled.
Coal immediately jumped into the next sidestreet to her right, grabbed the downpipe and climbed up the house. She just rolled onto the roof when the spear of the centaur cut clean through the pipe under them.
"I'll get you, you damned thieve!" came from under the house, followed by frustrated, angry growls.
Coal ran as fast as she can, jumped over the small distances between the houses and climbed the many walls and fences on the flat roofs. She ran until her feet were sore, nearly two districts. Then, finally, she sat down, oriented herself and let out a long and exhausted sigh.
"This was the worst. The others are so much smoother than us." Coal said hoarsely. Her lungs burned and her small feet were sore from the gravel some people had on their houses.
"But we got it! We've done it. Look!" Snow said with a wide grin on her face. She held a golden coin high up in a victorious pose. The motive on it told Coal that it was a Gringotts Galleon, a european coin. She had seen them before in the brothel and was stunned by what you could buy with just one of those.
"They'll name you Galleon. Thats awesome!" Coal said cheerfully. Her throat was still dry, but the look on her best friends face paid for most of her exhaustion. She looked down to her own hands and saw the wallet still tightly in her grip.
"Open it. You don't want to be called 'wallet'." Snow hopped around her impatiently.
With careful hands she opened the wallet and stuck her hand into it. With a feeling of dread she felt that there were no coins in her. Just something that felt like a sharp edged rock. "Oh no..." she said and removed her hand from the wallet, producing whatever it was the man had in the wallet.
"What is that?" Snow asked.
"I don't know. The color is like... dirt, but its more like a metal."
"Uh... maybe its some rare metal. Those always make good names."
"Maybe some of the others know what it is? We should go, the suns about to go down." Coal said, dismissively. She was rather disappointed. No matter what material it was, it wouldn't be as amazing as gold, let alone a Galleon.
They made their way home in a hurry and just barely made it before the front doors opened. They hurried past the seductresses that were preparing for the night and entered the room under the roof just in time to see the elder children prepare themselves as well.
When they entered, all eyes were on them. Quickly the kids gathered round and asked what they got. Unlike the others who had made their first grab, Snow and Coal weren't welcomed with cheers. The atmosphere was more like malevolent expectations. The children hoped that the two outsiders would have some mundane trash with them, or even better, nothing. The mischievous smile on Snows face was priceless for Coal to witness.
Before the kids got too impatient, their leader, Judge stepped forward and asked for the goods they stole. Snow showed her the Galleon with a victorious grin plastered on her face, while Coal presented the brown metal, not sure what to think of it.
Judge looked at the Galleon like she'd just seen a banshee. Her eyes got wide and her face laid in a confused and angry expression. "Shut it!" she commanded the other kids who started to whisper between them. Some of them looked surprised, some were even admiring the loot of the two. However, most of them looked ready to kick them out of the room. An emotion that Judge shared with them. The girl thought long about what to do. She repeatedly looked between Snow and Coal and then smiled so evily that it sent a shiver over the pairs spines.
"We name after thefts, not stuff you got from begging. Air and Air."
"What? Thats unfair!" Snow yelled at her. "Prove that we..." But she couldn't finish the sentence. The backhand of Judge sent her flying through the room.
"You keep your mouth close, Air! I'm in charge here." Judge shouted, more to the audience than to Snow who laid on the floor, whimpering. Coal ran towards her and was about to pick her up when Judge grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around violently. "You're a blackblood, but you're not a slave-caste like she is. If you pick her up now, its out of the room for both of you. If you keep your hands off of her, you're allowed to stay."
Judge smiled her trademark smile. A bit of teeth, slightly raised corners of the mouth, disgusting intent written all over her face. Coal had always found it repulsive, but now it made her want to vomit right at the older girl. With a faint move of her shoulder she removed Judges hand from her, turned around and picked up the still whining Snow.
"I'd rather get eaten by the vampires than to spend even one more night with you. Goodbye." she said dryly and left the room with her head held up high. She had the little elve firmly in her grip. Snow herself held the Galleon as if her very life depended on it. Her left cheek sported a dark grey spot where the hand had hit her and her left eye began to swell shut. She still whined silently in Coals arms. They both had learned to cry in silence, even before they had learned to walk.
Coal walked down the stairs on her toes and had a look out for customers, or worse, her owners Oklok and Mama Xen. The wooden stairs creaked when she walked over them, but she was sure that nobody heard her as the moaning, cheering and screaming from the rooms was easily overwriting the sound from the wood. When she walked past the merpeople girls she smiled at them and just shook her head when one wanted to help Snow. Coal couldn't allow Xen or Oklok to find them here. Snow was fragile, even if she would never admit it. Another blow to her head and she'd be out for days or even completely, should Okloks many rings hit a wrong spot.
Outside of the brothel, she quickly made her way to the backyard where no customers ever came to and just sometimes there would be girls who took a smoke or hid themselves from a more brutal client. There was a wooden bench. It was nearly broken but it was still stable enough for a seven year old girl, holding a six year old houseelve.
"I hope its not a cold night, tonight." Coal whispered while she looked at the countless stars above them. Every single one was a wish, made by someone who desperately needed it. At least that was what one of the merpeople girls once told her when she had learned their language. She was sure that there were two new ones, somewhere, shining up right at this moment.
"I..." Snow began weakly. She sobbed and sniffed and ran the back of her hand under her nose. "I don't care what they say. They're stupid! My names Galleon now! And thats that!" The courage of her words got lost in her silent and sad voice. She held the coin against her chest and curled up into Coals embrace, her ears covering her face.
"Alright, Galleon. Any ideas where we can get food?" Coal asked her. No answer came from the little elve. Coal didn't really expect one. She was used to her best friends silence whenever the elve was upset. "The trashcans it is, then."
Coal didn't have to wait long. The richer customers held orgies in the finer rooms of the brothel where the fat men and women would eat and fuck at their hearts desire. Coal knew these rooms from one time, when she got sent there to serve a client that preferred young girls. She got sent back without ever being touched. Nobody wanted to touch a blackblood, after all. But she saw enough to know that there were disgusting amounts of leftovers that got thrown out to the backyard trashcans.
The door to the kitchens opened and a human servant stepped out, holding a cauldron full of unfinished meals. He stopped when he saw the blackblood girl and the creepy elve child sitting on the broken bench. The black-haired girl that reminded him so horribly of fresh undead people looked at him with begging eyes. Her eyes were always so piercing and intimidating, he hated to look at them. The dark grey instead of the white and the emerald green that shone like gems from the darkness – terrifying and beautiful. He knew what they wanted, and so he grabbed an empty jar and filled it to the top with the rests of meat, potatoes, rice and vegetables that was in the cauldron. Then he placed the jar next to them on the bench. The blackblood thanked him and gave him goosebumps by staring in his eyes for a second. He quickly dispersed of the rest of the leftovers and fled into the kitchen.
Coal was used to the fear some of the servants and girls felt when they looked at her. She knew how she looked since there were mirrors everywhere in the brothel that denied her the right to forget for even a minute. As much as she would love to be able to deny it, she really did look like an Undead. She shrugged and took a small piece of meat from the jar. It was heavily spiced and tasted like anything but meat. It was delicious, though. Even mixed with the other meals it tasted fantastic to her. The next piece – a much smaller one – she moved to Snows, no, Galleons lips and waited until the elve opened her mouth reluctantly. The next bite was again for herself, then she fed Galleon again, then herself and so on until the jar was empty at last.
Coal looked up at the sky again and admired the bright moon, shining at them with his blueish, beautiful light. She had always liked it better than sunlight. The suns rays burned the eyes. The moons soft illumination made everything appear more beautiful, more mystical, more interesting.
Galleons silent and deep breathing held Coal back from loosing herself and her thoughts in the image of the moon. The little elve had fallen asleep in her arms and she had to admit that she was equally tired. The day had been exhausting from the morning to the evening. Her eyelids felt heavy and she caught herself closing them for long periods of time before startling. She mustn't forget that there actually was a chance to be eaten by a vampire out here. But no matter how hard she tried, in the end she succumbed to sleep.
_BG_
"Here, wakey wakey."
The voice was so far away from her, Coal was sure it was just in her dreams.
"Now, I know it must've been exhausting to steal my stuff..."
Her eyes shot open, her head raced around and came to a halt when she saw the tired looking man in the simple robes, looking at her with a grin on his face.
"...but you need to wake up. Good." he finished amused. Then he leaned down to her and said silently "I don't appreciate being stolen from, young girl, that's just not sitting right with me."
"I..I...we..." she stuttered lamely, but her mind was numb from fear. So close, the man stopped looking tired and had something menacing on him. His eyes were a deep brown and his hair was blonde like that of the northern europeans that sometimes came to the brothel. He produced a knife from his belt and Coal sucked in a breath, her arms held Galleon so tight to her body that the elve woke up.
"What is..." Galleon began, but the view of the man shut her up immediately. She became even smaller and vanished behind Coals arms.
The man laughed at the elve and the sound of it made their blood freeze. There was absolutely no humour in it. When he calmed down to chuckles he began to pick his fingernails with his knife and stared with an evil grin at the two of them.
Coal was about to ask what he'd do with them when the backdoor shot open and to her horror, she saw Oklok storm out of it. His head was flushed with blood and his expression angrier than Coal had ever seen it. "WHAT DID YOU DO, BLACKBLOOD?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO GET THE TRIPLE DAMNED VARANGIANS SCREWING UP MY BUSINESS? HUH!?"
"Hey now, triple damned 's a bit much." the man with the knife said to the goblin in an amused voice.
"QUADRUPLE DAMNED. YOU AND YOUR BAND OF SELLWANDS SCARE MY GUESTS!"
"Your property stole my property. I demand retribution."
"RETRIBU..." Oklok began to shout, but then stopped himself from it as it seemed that he realized who was holding the elbow long knife in his hands. "Retribution, you say. What did the girl steal from you?"
"The elve stole a galleon, the girl a wallet and a piece of dwarven bronze."
Oklok looked ready to tear limbs from bodies and spoke while grinding his teeth. "You trash my establishment for a galleon and a piece of metal? Are you out of your mind? Do you even know who I am, mercenary?"
"Aye..." the man began and gave the goblin a mock bow. "You're Oklok, the owner of this whorehouse and the district in general. May I introduce myself, so that we may be on common ground? I am Colonel Dagger. You may call me Colonel."
"Well then, Colonel." Oklok made sure to put as much venom into the title as possible. "What do I have to do to get you out of my house and district?"
"No threat of calling your muscle? Now thats unusual for a gangster boss." Colonel Dagger laughed.
"Don't mock me, human. I am well aware of the Varangian Guards abilities. As strong as my men are, they couldn't hold a candle to you even if you blindfolded yourselves. So what do you want?"
"Them." he said and pointed at Coal and Galleon. Both of them nearly jumped as the man looked at them with the same evil grin he had worn since they first saw him.
"They're worth a bit more than a galleon and a piece of bronze, dwarven or not." Oklok said angrily. He hated to be driven into a corner and he knew that he would have to oblige to the Colonel's wishes if he wanted his house still standing in the morning. But still, there was no harm in bargaining.
"I pay for the repairs and for whatever... uhm... services my men have already received." Colonel Dagger offered with a wave of his hand.
"You're paying now or do you want me to make the repairs using your words?"
The Colonel didn't even comment and just threw a sack full of coins into the goblins hands that he produced from under his robes.
"Alright then. Take those two." Oklok said and then turned around to face Coal and Galleon. "And if I ever see you in this district again I'll cut both of your throats, you understand me, brats?"
Coal jumped up and moved back from the enraged goblin. She just nodded and let her head hang down to show as little disobedience as possible. She stood like so until the angrily mumbling goblin went back into the house, probably to shout at some girls and throw a tantrum in his office.
"So... first things first. I'll need my things back." Colonel Dagger said softly. Coal looked up to the man and, to her surprise, found nothing but a faint, gentle smile on his face. His brown eyes weren't as piercing as before, but shone bright with kindness.
Coal handed him the piece of bronze. Then he moved his hand to collect the galleon from Galleons paws. He stored both of these things in a wallet that hung from his hips and patted it when he closed the lid. "Now that thats done, tell me your names please."
"I'm Galleon." said the little elve in a short moment of courage before she once again tried to hide in her friends arms.
"So, this was your first theft then? Quite a feat to steal from Varangians at the first try. Sagantes was furious when you fled over the roofs. Nice move, that." he said cheerfully. His eyes grew even kinder and both Coal and Galleon had no idea how to react to that. Coal wanted to smile back, but she knew from experience that the ones who smiled were those who were often the most dangerous. "You're Bronze, then?" he asked and nodded towards Coal.
"No I..." she started. Her mouth hung open for a second when she realized that, actually, this was her name. "Yes... Yes, my name is Bronze." she answered and nearly laughed while doing so. All the commotion had made her forget completely about her change of names. She carried no longer the stupid, and so painfully descriptive name Coal. She was now Bronze and things were about to change. For better or worse, she wasn't sure.
"Nice meeting you, Bronze, Galleon. I'm Colonel Dagger and I welcome you to the Varangian Guard."
_BG_
Chapter 7(?): A new contract.
"I'm speaking English."
"I am speaking Babel."
"I'm speaking another language. Look for context."
10th July 1995 – Krak des Chevaliers – Israel
It was one of the hottest days they had ever experienced in the desert of Israel and yet, Galleon and Bronze stood guard in the middle of the yard, protecting a sack of stones from nobody. There were no shadows in a radius of ten meters and not one cloud anywhere in the sky. Just the burning star right above them that was supposed to melt their cheek.
"You just had to say it." hissed Galleon with as much venom as she could muster through her already hurting sunburn.
"Oh, shut up you broken houselve."
"You shut up, oilleak."
"That's a new one."
"Just came up with it."
They both snorted in amusement but quickly remembered that they were supposed to be angry at each other, as bad as they were at being that.
"How long do you think he'll let us stand here?" Bronze whispered the question. Other than the houseelve, her pale skin was already way past the point of hurting and her uniform soaked with her sweat. She was sure that she already had several first, maybe even some second degree burnings and she could feel her black blooded veins pulsing. The sun was indeed her natural enemy. She was in so many ways like an Undead, she cursed the damned goblin every day of her life for his decision to make her a girl and being too much of a scrooge to hire at least mediocre alchemists.
"Well, calling the Colonel a drunk fuckhead that merely exists to devour as much drugs as possible while fucking as much whores as Tel Aviv offers is probably worth standing here until sundown." Galleon chuckled and focused hard to stifle the laughter that got her standing in the sun with Bronze in the first place. "But maybe he sees the truth in your words and rewards your honesty by letting us off in the afternoon."
"Fat chance." Bronze laughed.
Suddenly she felt nauseous and the small moves of her chest from the laughter made her loose her balance. With a thud she landed face first in the sand beneath her and couldn't move.
"Bronze!" Galleon screamed and forgot all about her orders to stand and not move. She grabbed her sunburnt body and apparated with it to the infirmary, through every apparition ward there was. Houseelve magic was the best.
_BG_
"Have you learned your lesson, soldier?" Colonel Dagger asked with his most stern voice.
"Yes. I will never again tell the truth." Bronze said hoarsely. Her voice was crackling from the dryness of her throat and her headache was nearly killing her. Potions and salves did their work but one didn't heal dehydration and second degree sunburns in a few hours.
The soldier standing guard in the infirmary snorted but held his laughter together. Colonel Dagger tried hard to remain serious, but the twitching corners of his mouth gave his amusement away. "I'm supposed to raise you to be a valuable part of the Guard. Not a brat with too much cheek for her own good."
With a sigh he sat down onto the edge of her bed and ran his hand through his hair in a tired motion. He looked old and exhausted, Bronze thought and a voice in her head laughed that she would probably look just like that if she'd drink and fuck like an animal. But she was sure that this was different, so she stayed silent and waited for him to speak.
"I know I won't be able to change you two. But we just got order and I need you to be on your best behaviour. You were selected for a mission. The Commander wants you in his office in thirty."
"A... a mission? You're joking!" Galleon blurted out.
"What did I just...?" He started, but then just pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed again and resigned. "I don't know the details, but you were selected because, unfortunately, you're by far the best of those who fit the requirements."
"What do you mean by 'unfortunately'? You think we're not up for the challenge?" Bronze asked angrily. They were indeed the best among their peers. All the other recruits excelled in one or maybe two fields. Bronze and Galleon, or how they were called more often, the 'bronze Galleon' were among the best in every single field. From normal spellwork to using sniper rifles, they were good at it, through talent or hard work. So hearing this doubt hurt her pride quite a bit.
"No, what I mean was... uhm..." He leaned back against the wall and looked up to the ceiling as if he thought he'd find the words he was looking for there.
"What is it then?" Galleon demanded.
"Its just... you know that I really like you guys, don't you?"
"Is that why you let us get sun-dried?" Bronze asked with a mischievous grin.
"No, that was because you're a brat with no respect for you superiors and you..." he pointed at Galleon "...are just the same if not worse."
"So you're worried?" Galleon asked, ignoring the accusation as always.
"Yes, I'm worried. I'm very worried. I know you for eight years now and I'm kind of proud to see what happened to the little streetrats I took under my wing back then." he admitted not without pride in his voice which caused the two girls to smile one of their rare, honest smiles at him. They had each other, but it always felt good to have a spot in someone elses heart. "Of you go, now. Your burns will heal just as good while you walk to the Commander. And for all gods sake, behave yourselves!"
"Will do." they both said and nearly jumped from their beds. Their first mission in their head made them more excited then having their own room, their own weapons or anything else had made them. By the time they reached the Commanders office, they were already having the wildest fantasies as to what they'd be ordered to do. Would it be killing a mighty beast, assassinating some big shot or maybe snatching some intelligence? With a fast beating heart, Bronze knocked at the door of the office and waited until the Commander beckoned them in with his deep voice.
They entered and saluted the Commander as close to perfection as they could manage with their burnt skin and their general disregard for formalities.
"At ease. Sit down." the Commander ordered and gestured towards the two chairs in front of his oaken desk. Bronze sat onto the left one while Galleon took a seat on the right chairs armrest in order to be able to look over the desk. "I take it Colonel Dagger told you?"
"He told us that we were selected for a mission." Galleon stated matter-of-factly.
The Commander finished some paperwork with a quick signature and then leaned back in his impressive chair made of finest leather and woods. "Thats right. We got an interesting request from Britain. The Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore – you know the man from history class I take it?"
Both of them nodded.
"Yeah. He requested an entire platoon of highly trained battlemages for some guard job. It doesn't seem like the british ministry knows that and the client made clear that he would like it to remain that way. So we're hiding an entire platoon of soldiers within the civil society of magical Britain."
The Commander took a folder and threw it over the desk into Bronze's arms. She opened it and looked quickly over the photos and maps within. "The Order of the Phoenix, sir? Dark Lord... Voldemort?"
"Cheesy name, isn't it?" the Commander laughed. "He's an extremely dangerous terrorist with a fascist agenda. People believe he's dead, and so do most governments. Dumbledore seems to think he's back from the dead. That is why he hires us to add some meat to his band of rebels he calls the Order. Some of the platoon will train them to fight."
"What is our part in this?" Galleon said excited. Bronze saw that the little elve girl needed to grab the chair in order to remain sitting. The Commander also noticed the excitement of the elve and gave her a broad grin.
"Your part is the trickiest but could probably be the most comfortable at the same time. Normally I don't send out trainees to missions, since I want them to do what their rank indicates – train. But you're way ahead anyway and won't miss out on education." he finished mysteriously and left the girls waiting in anticipation. When he revelled enough in their barely hidden impatience he chuckled quietly and leaned forward.
"You'll enlist into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." he said and pointed at Bronze.
"What?" she blurted out.
"You heard me. You'll be a student at the prestigious british school for magic. Well, at least as cover, you'll be. Your task is to keep a lookout for suspicious behaviour within the student body and your eyes open to rumours. In the worst case of an attack, you'll be responsible for the organisation of the defences."
"So, that is what the Colonel meant by requirements. You need a fifteen year old?"
"Quite observant of you, soldier." he said cheerfully at the slightly disappointed face of Bronze. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one side she'd get to see Britain, more exactly, Scotland from what she could gather from the maps. On the other side she'd be stuck in a castle with some civilian brats and worst of all, she would have to listen to their inconsequential rambling and gossip. She'd much rather go out and fight a dragon, or something. Hero stuff. Stuff that mattered.
"Okay, so Bronze is going to play teenage girl. What am I supposed to do?" Galleon asked, not sure if she wanted the answer.
"Well... I gotta apologize in advance for your task. The brits aren't exactly known for their loving way of dealing with houselves." he said a bit more silent than before. "You're going there in the cover of Bronze's servant."
Galleons mouth hung open while she stared blankly at the Commander. She got out of her stupor when she heard the insufferable, mischievous chuckle of Bronze next to her, finding the whole matter way too funny. "Oh, shut up." she hissed and Bronze just barely held back a loud laugh. "I'm so not doing your laundry."
"You don't have to." the Commander appeased the elve. He knew better than to tease her in this matter. "The elves of Hogwarts, who do have the curse, will take care of that and all the other household tasks. You will listen from the shadows and get some informations out of the elves. They probably know more of the british wizards corpses in the backyard than the brits give them credit for. Also you're responsible for getting out of trouble, should something happen. The wards of Hogwarts function much like ours and let houselves apparate within them."
Galleon nodded, somewhat satisfied with her task. It sounded like interesting work to squeeze out information from members of her own kind. They were so easy to manipulate, so she didn't think that she would even need Legilimency, but she looked forward to train it on them. In the end, she thought, she got the better part of the bargain.
Bronze looked through the files in the folder in the meantime. Layouts, recommended defensive positions and hotspots for the spread of information. The castle was huge, but there were only five spots where information got carried from one student to the other. The common rooms, as they were called and the dining hall, called the Great Hall. Then she dug deeper into the paper and found two vitas of a bushy haired girl with, what Bronze thought, was a pretty face and a red haired boy who looked like a brute to her.
"Who are those two?" she asked without looking up from the photos.
"Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They were the closest buddies the deceased Triwizard Champion Neville Longbottom had. They're considered high priority targets for their involvement with this 'Boy-who-lived'. That Dark Lord is quite vengeful, they say. Your secondary task is to look out for them and evacuate them if the need arises. Also, they will know about your true identity and your assignment. We already deployed groups of three to their homes as safeguards. You will join Group Alpha at the Granger residence where you'll get to know the girl first. See if you can use both of their knowledge of the school, but keep them out of trouble at all costs."
"Aye, sir. Two questions. First. Whats our alias? I think we might be a little suspicious if we call ourselves Bronze and Galleon."
"You'll be introduced as Lyralei Leermann. We figured a german name would fit your face. You were a student at Babylons Ziggurat but had to move because of family reasons. You'll see the details in the folder. Galleon there will be named Tipsy and shes a houseelve, end of story."
Galleons face sank as she heard the ridiculous name and Bronze's face flushed red as she tried to keep the laughter in. Her own alias was nice enough. Lyralei was a name she could work with, even though it lacked the personal note of a thieves name. She regained her composure under great effort and then proceeded to ask "Second. When are we leaving?"
"Departure is in two hours. You'll take a portkey to France and from there you'll be driven to the Grangers house by car." the commander answered.
Bronze and Galleon stood up and wanted to leave when the commander cleared his throat. They turned around and gazed into worried eyes.
"You two are soldiers of the Varangian Guard. Never forget that. But by all gods, you're still trainees. If you run into danger, get out. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." they said back with strong voices.
"Goodbye then, and be careful! Dismissed."
_BG_
Britain was a rainy, miserable and horribly grey place, Bronze thought as she looked out of the rear window of the luxurious car. The houses they passed were just as grey as the sky above them and the people had fitting expressions on their faces whenever they passed some on the streets. When she opened the window, she smelled the normally so wonderful scent of wet grass. Even that became a bland and uninteresting sensation in Britain. It was as if the country itself said 'Thats nothing special'. By the time they reached London, Bronze had decided that she liked Babylon and Israel better.
She had given up on looking out of the window and instead reread the briefing, looked again at the photos and maps and laid out a plan on how to deal with this Hermione Granger – alone.
Galleon was brought to the castle of Hogwarts the moment they reached France by portkey. Their comrades awaiting them had said that it was of utmost importance that Galleon got to know the houseelves as soon as possible and determine her standing within their ranks. All present were sure that a curseless elve would not sit right with the battalions of magically dumbed down elves in the kitchens of Hogwarts.
So Bronze was left alone with a task she grew more and more anxious about. It had dawned to her during the long drive that she had never before dealt with another human alone. She always had Galleon there to help her, guide the conversation or apparate them out of harms way. As sad as it was, but often enough Galleon was the brain of the operation. Even with years of military training, Bronze kept her head in the clouds way too often. She was rash and courageous and faced danger with a wicked smile on her face. But with it came her loose tongue and a talent for getting herself into trouble. She sighed and just hoped that the girl would be easy to be around.
The black SUV she sat in took a curve into a suburban area with houses of the upper middle-class of London. Some expensive cars, some neatly trimmed lawns and, unseen by the muggles around the brick-walled house with the black roofing, a small group of three people in black suits and black sunglasses, two men and a woman.
"Thats Sergeant Sergjov, Lieutenant O'Harra and Private Bergsson. They're easy going, but remember that you're under every one of them in rank, Private Bronze." said the driver before he turned into the driveway of the house. He opened the doors with a button on the wheel and gestured to her that the doors were open now.
While one of the men in black suits got her luggage from the trunk, her fieldkit and the necessary things for Hogwarts she had gotten handed to her the moment she appeared in the Normandy, Bronze took a long look at the place she'd stay in for a bit less than a month before she could see Galleon again in Hogwarts. The house was looking new and cared for, the lawn was neatly mown and a variety of flowers brought cautiously picked out colors into the green of the grass. The windows were framed with white wood just like the entry. It would've looked so peaceful and normal without the presence of the Varangian Guard at the frontyard.
"Private Bronze, I presume." said the middle-aged woman in the black suit. She had brown hair with single grey strands in it, a stern look with her blue eyes and a aura of tenacity and hardness around her that mirrored into her voice.
"Yes, ma'am." Bronze said and added a sloppy salute.
The woman frowned at the mediocre display of formality, but didn't say anything about it. "I am Sergeant Sergjov and I'm the leader of squad alpha. For the time you're here, you're under my command. Understood so far?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I take it you got the details from headquarters? Inside waits the family for us. We're about to introduce ourselves and especially you, since you'll be in charge of their daughters safety. So no messing around, rookie. Got that?"
"Yes, ma'am." Bronze answered and made sure to make it sound a bit mocking. Bronze decided that she didn't like Sergeant Sergjov all that much. She was still a comrade and sister of the Guard, but one can't choose family.
The Sergeant gestured towards the others to follow her. Meanwhile, the black SUV drove away to wherever the Guard had its safehouse in London. Bronze followed the three people in black suits and felt horribly out of place in her standard uniform with the witches hat and the wyrmhide boots and trousers.
The inside of the house was as neat and tidy as the outside. It had the tasteful minimalistic elegance that Bronze new from the photos in her books. It was metallic, white with the occasional wooden part in the furniture. Some boards held knick-knacks and trinkets, exactly placed and covered with a faint layer of dust that could only be seen if the light hit it in the right angle. The rooms were big, flooded with light and despite the furniture, had some sort of happy aura about them. It stood in stark contrast to the people sitting on the couch who looked with expectant eyes towards the Varangians that entered the living room.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I am Sergeant Sergjov of the fifth platoon, second brigade of the Varangian Guard, at your service. With me are Lieutenant O'Harra and Private Bergsson as well as Private Bronze. We are responsible for your safety, but we will see to it that your normal lifes can go on as undisturbed as possible. I assume you have many questions. May I?" she asked, but didn't wait for any of the Grangers to place her on a seat. The Sergeant sat down in a comfortable armchair and awaited the Grangers question with a fake smile on her face.
"Why is this even necessary?" asked and the recently shed tears were still audible in her voice.
"I am unsure how much you already know. Our briefing says that Lord Voldemort..." Bronze noticed the bushy haired girl, Hermione, twitch like she just got stung as the Sergeant spoke the name. "...has returned from death, or similar circumstances. We understand that Neville Longbottom... "Hermione sobbed heavily at that name. "...was a prime target of this terrorist and our client therefore assumes that your daughter, as a very good friend of Neville Longbottom, became a target as well. Thats why we're hired to protect you by evacuation and active defence."
"We already know that. But why hire private security? What about the government?" Mr Granger said in a voice, a mixture of anger and exhaustion. His black rings under the eyes surely spoke lengths of his condition.
"We understand that there is no evidence to support the claim that Voldemort has returned, even though the marks on body..." The sergeant stopped suddenly when Bronze walked in between her line of sight and grabbed Hermione by the hands. The bushy haired girl looked with blood-shot eyes into the emerald ones with dark-grey where white should be and just nodded after which she let herself be led out of the room by Bronze.
The hand Bronze was holding was weak and the girls grasp was barely recognizable. She looked like hell, with red eyes and cheeks from the tears she had shed and her hair was a complete mess, adding to her overall horrible appearance. However, Bronze was sure that she'd be rather pretty if the circumstances would be better. Thinking 'better safe than sorry' she reminded herself that she was on a mission and it wouldn't go over well to start something with the VIP she was supposed to protect. Damn those alchemists and their unfinished jobs.
"I figured you could do without hearing that again." Bronze said faintly while she led Hermione into the backyard, onto a wooden bench that faced a small pond with Koi carps swimming in it.
"Are you really a soldier?" she asked and her voice made clear that she gratefully took the chance to stay away from the subject of her dead friend. Hermione's eyes looked up and down Bronze's body, taking in the rather unusual look of the girl next to her.
"Not yet, if you wanna be technical about it. I'm a trainee, but they needed a fifteen year old for the mission, so they picked me and made me a Private for the duration. I'm Bronze by the way, but in school you gotta call me Lyralei."
"Bronze, like the metal?"
Bronze just nodded with a faint smile and then released the hand of the girl she realized she was still holding.
"You're looking pretty unusual, if I may say that." Hermione nearly whispered. "Where are you from? I understand the Varangian Guard is pretty international."
"Babylon."