The school was in a state of nervous unrest. There was a Goblin attending and no one seemed to know where he would strike and just how devastating it would be. But that didn't stop anyone from coming up with ideas. The rumor mill at Hogwarts, which some considered to be its own kind of magic, was ruthless in its production of the horrible and the truly terrifying. The table that had been seemingly conjured by the Goblin still stood in the middle of the Great Hearth, with no one even coming close to approaching it. It was just as present in peoples' minds and just as forbidden as Professor Snape's love life, and if the incredible scowl that had been permanently hexed onto said Professor's face was any indicator, he didn't like the competition.
Normally such news would have been quickly pushed to the side, due to the fact that Hogwarts was not a school for pushovers, however, due to the fact that things were only going to get more interesting, what with two new schools suddenly showing up, everyone, everyday was building to a new intensity.
Two new batches of students showing up was already a big deal by itself, but then they were also going to fight, and they would be fighting against one of their own. And all of them would be fighting a bloody Goblin, and who knew what that would be like. And with the fighting came interacting, which immediately led to thoughts of very certain body parts interacting, and now half of the population of Hogwarts was seeing red, both for love of sport and sporting at love.
The other half was seeing with a bit more clarity, and almost all of them were trying to reconcile the horrifying imagery and unknown-ness of Goblins with the striking figure that had proclaimed himself one in the Great Hearth. Many of them had considered it, at first to be a lie, but the resulting announcements of the Headmaster, mixed with the frightening magic that had had been conjured by the young man with the knife like smile had sent half of them into a mild panic and the other half into a not so mild swoon.
Even Hogwarts itself seemed to be excited. It was tough to say if it was due to the Triwizard Cup that thrummed with its own power, deep within the stones, or if it was the anticipation of even more students to protect and encourage to thrive, or if it was just the normal jitters of an old castle getting itself ready for another exciting year. But then again, as the weeks wore on, it seemed to only get more excited as Hogwarts had a small figurine wander its halls and hearths, marching to a thrum and vibration that began deep in its foundations.
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Ron Weasley was especially rambuncuous. He had, the day after the startling proclamations, learned that his brothers, the Twins, had encountered this new Goblin terror, and they had been injured by his lunacy! The most worrying aspect of it had not been the nature of their injuries, but the fact that the twins had seemed to be genuinely shocked and rocked by the experience. The two young men who had purposely ingested a piece of Salamander skin to see if it would let them breathe fire, and had, because of that, spent nearly a week without being able to speak and eat, and then they had done it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke. These were his brothers, and he had honestly thought, after seeing that debacle, that nothing could actually shake them. Maybe they could be annoyed, or pushed off balance for a moment, but to be actually shaken? No, he would have denied that. His brothers weren't human, they were avatars of some sort of horrible god of mischief, birthed by his mother to be a constant punishment to him, Ron Weasley, who certainly didn't deserve it.
And now, here Ron Weasley was, torn between passions. He knew that something should probably be done, but he wasn't sure if it was worth it. Plus, if he went his friends would definitely get drawn into it, and while he was certainly headstrong, ask anyone, he had slowly tempered such straightforwardness with a modicrum of concern for his friends, if not himself. And his pals, tighter than a dragon's jaws were the cheeky Seamus, the cynical Dean, the humorous Bryant, and, hopefully, virginal Ginny. His sister tagging along had been quite the bother at first, especially since he was overly concerned with the idea that she might be a leak of information to his mother, who would kill him just for his language if nothing else. Those worries had been squashed the first time he had seen Ginny get truly mad; she had unleashed a hellstorm of swearing and cursing that had left goosebumps on his flesh. Plainly, she would not be ratting him out, because as much as Mother Weasley hated her boys messing about, as she put it, she simply would not abide a lady speaking in such a way.
Her addition to the group had turned out to do a lot of good actually. If it hadn't been for her pestering him constantly, and the belief of his friends (read as: smirking and telling him to put his money where his mouth was) he wouldn't have tried out for quidditch in his 2nd year and made reserve Keeper. Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for the team, Oliver Wood was a brilliant keeper, and while Ron would love to play in actual games more, he could also tell that learning from Wood himself was going to go a long way to making him a truly great player.
And he had been so excited to play this year. Wood had said, at the end of last year, that he could sub in for some games, especially if they were winning, and that thought had dominated his summer. And now it had all been thrown into confusion. As much as the twins were a punishment delivered from upon high, he still managed to care about them, and if Ron felt defensive of anything it was his family. But if he focused on revenge, um, justice, then he wouldn't be able to focus on his beloved Quidditch, and yet, he already knew that his decision was made. Ron Weasley wasn't the type of man to choose anything over his friends and family, and more than one slimy Slytherin had learned that, and if he had to teach the same to this Goblin spawn, he would, even if it meant a cold shoulder to his flighty mistress, Quidditch.
And so Ron Weasley stomped into the Gryffindor Common Room to meet with his friends and family, to convene a war council, so that they could get to the bottom of this Harry Potter.
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Draco Malfoy had been bored. Bored, bored, bored. During his first year he had been excited, ecstatic, and bustling with fervor. There had been rumors that Harry Potter, born 11 years earlier would have to be in this class, and having such a celebrity in his class would have been beneficial, regardless of the boy's actual alignment. If he could have swayed the "Boy Who Lived" to support the purebloods it would have been wonderful. And it wasn't a far off thought either, the boy did come from a long and distinguished line, despite James Potter's lack of sense regarding his wife. And if he hadn't been inclined to array himself on their side of the board, that would have worked out as well. Many of those who might otherwise be for the incorporation of Muggle borns would probably find the celebrity treatment of the such a "golden boy" to be off putting, which he could use to galvanize them, becoming a "moderate" in their eyes. His poise and graceful standing allowing him to paint the unprepared Harry Potter as an extremist. He had it all thought out. It was going to be perfect, and now it was all for naught.
Harry Potter had never showed up, never arrived, never been on the train for him to extend his hand in friendship, none of it. And so Draco had had to whittle away his time in Hogwarts trying to make connections with the damn Ravenclaws, who could be manipulated, but who also, almost without fail, eventually really looked into the blood purist theory, and they usually found it lacking. Not that some couldn't be convinced that the threat of muggles being incorporated didn't have some of them still standing strong by his family and the others that represented all that was important but still. It was an infinitely less pleasing experience than getting to bash heads with the estranged, mysterious, and wildly popular Boy Who Lived. Which, more than likely, would have made himself all the more popular and mysterious and estranged as well, which, his father had said, did wonderful things for your chances with the ladies. Not that he needed any help in that department. But still, advantages were not to be ignored, no matter how far ahead someone was.
And now this, his father had heard rumors, specifically about Fudge trying desperately to exert enough pressure on Dumbledore to reveal something about Potter, but even father, with resources that only Draco could guess at, had been unable to find out. It had been unclear whether or not this was due to Fudge simply not knowing or it being a big enough secret that even Fudge had grown a backbone about it. Right now it certainly seemed like the latter was true. Harry Potter raised by Goblins? Fudge and Dumbledore would be lucky to keep their jobs, though it might depend on how long Dumbledore had known about this... the man was extremely crafty, somehow keeping his job over numerous decades despite his outspoken ways, criticisms, and secrets. If he had enough time to prepare, well, among his father's friends there was a saying, "A bee with a week, can make even vinegar sweet." Dumbledore had been underestimated before, and the results had been uniformly disastrous.
And now, despite this new information, Draco needed to go meet his contacts, to share his information with the Ravenclaws, who would, no doubt, appreciate it. He couldn't stop courting them, not when they had become, in the last year one, of the top powers. They had an amazing line up of witches, surprisingly enough. Usually Ravenclaw, in terms of influence was dominated by the males of the group, given shy and silent support by their female counterparts. But this year and the last it was the witches who were doing all the heavy lifting. Cho Chang had somehow snared Cedric Diggory, who, for all intents and purposes, was the golden boy of the whole school and nigh untouchable. Say what you would about the Hufflepuffs, but once they latched onto someone they were about as likely to let go as a vampire on a virgin. There was little headway to be made on that front, although that didn't stop a negative campaign from being formed. Draco might not be able to get the Hufflepuffs to love Slytherin and their ideals, but he sure as hell could get them to dislike the Gryffindors.
More than Cho Chang though, was the surprising but formidable addition of Hermoine Granger to the ranks of the Ravenclaw elite. She had been nearly ostracized from her own house in the first year, but starting in her third year she had somehow started to explode onto the scene, a very nearly neutral power that epitomized the power of academia into a short, wild-haired form. Cho Chang was pretty easily dealt with, she was moderately ambitious, from a lineage that had shallow roots in England but, supposedly, went much farther back in Asia. Regardless, it made sense, in the context of pureblood ideology. But Hermoine Granger, she was first generation muggle-born. And she wasn't ambitious, she was powerful. It didn't really make any sense. As far as he could tell she had no goals, except to gather power, to gather knowledge, and to make it known. And she had been doing it for a full year, uncontested.
He had tried to set in motion ways to bring her down. To make her power seem less like the real thing and much more like false bravado (oh look at the muggle-born, trying to act like a pureblood), only for her to back it all up. And she had done it with a flair that reminded him, vaguely, of the Weasley Twins, which was concerning all by itself. Those two were their own type of powerhouses, luckily the kind with no agenda whatsoever, but they were also on the short list of people who you did not mess around with. Especially since they were now at a level of pranking that considered students to be too easy, and had, for a good year or near enough, concentrated their efforts on the teachers. And nothing spread good will like seeing Snape with a peg-leg and eye-patch, cursing the Twins with a venom more appropriate for a snake than a human.
And she, somehow, was channeling some of that. As far as he knew, those two entities had never collaborated, especially since Granger seemed morally affronted with the thought of pranking students, let alone teachers. But that didn't stop her from defending herself, and that was where she had shined. People who attacked her weren't attacked back, and at first he had thought it laughable for two reasons. One, there was no way she could keep it up, letting people take potshots at you all the time was going to end up with her hexed or cursed eventually. And two, that was weak. If someone attacked you and you didn't attack them back, it was a clear message of "keep attacking me". He had been wrong on both accounts. The first was the most surprising. Somehow, Granger had surpassed them all, at least in defense. She could create shields that he had only seen the premiere duelers in the 6th and 7th years make in the end of her 3rd year. And then she had started experimenting, and she had made her own shields, and they were nothing to laugh at either. She had somehow created a shield, at the end of her third year she had somehow tied a minor cheering charm to her shield that used the power of a spell sent at her to power it. So, throw a nasty, powerful hex at Granger, and get hit, almost instantly by a cheering charm with a tenth of the power. It had been a surreal sight to see two 4th year Slytherins rolling on the floor laughing uproariously after doing their best to humiliate Granger, and that was the kind of stuff that had imbued such fear and respect into the Weasleys.
It had become a real pain, mostly due to the fact that the only thing Granger seemed to do besides develop and practice horrifyingly effective shields was help people with homework, regardless of their affiliation. Even Slytherins who were firmly in the camp of pureblooded righteousness would go to her saying, "If there is anything a Mudblood is good for, it is helping their betters." But such words didn't change the fact that some of them had slowly become protective of her, and that there was some actual respect hidden under their platitudes.
And he wouldn't be getting any help from the older Slytherins, they were all focusing their attention on Cedric Diggory, who had kinda appeared from nowhere. And he was showing most of them up. So, that was a wash, not that he had been very eager to go prostrate himself before them and beg for help, but he at least liked having the option of appealing to their shared beliefs.
Draco, himself, didn't really see the whole pureblood theory as irrefutable. But once entrenched in power, one did not give it up without a fight. The schism of wizarding power in the early 1700's due to the colonization of the Americas had created a wonderful power vacuum, and that wasn't something that the Malfoys would be giving up anytime soon, at least, not without a fight. And even if they did lose, they would not allow themselves to stay that way. His father was already an old pro at that, at least. Just look at where they were now, when only 10 years ago they had been the top lieutenants of Voldermort.
But all of this could wait, right now Draco needed to go find some Ravenclaws, rile up some Gryffindors, promise subtly support to the Hufflepuffs if this Goblin Terror attacked, and write a very detailed letter to his father.
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Neville Longbottom was nervous. It was the day after the announcements, and Neville could barely think straight, and, unlike everyone else, it was not due to the announcement of the Goblin Reaper, as some people were calling the scary man who had bent the stones of Hogwarts to his will under the twinkling eyes of their Headmaster. No, Neville had, somehow, stayed attentive to the remaining announcements, maybe too shocked to fully understand that there was a Goblin soldier sent to kill them all standing in the Great Hearth, as someone people had said. And it had been during those sequential announcements that Neville had heard the news about the newest Defense Professor. She was a vampire.
Now Neville had made some progress with dealing with his own brand of cowardice, but the announcement that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position would be taken over by an honest to goodness Vampire, was a bit more than his heart could really handle right now. And amazingly enough, he couldn't really get anyone else to worry about it with him. They were all too busy with the imminent destruction of Hogwarts at the hands of the GoblinTron, Executioner of Gringotts, as some people said. The main problem with this development was that there was too much information on Vampires. In one book he had read they can turn into all manner of things, in another that they had fangs, in another that they had no fangs but carried small knives, and a less reputable source said they shimmered and shined.
Neville had pretty much decided early on that if he couldn't get over being afraid of things. Then maybe he could, at least, be prepared for them. In his 3rd year, he had been helped, at length, by Hermoine Granger, a master of academia who had, after a particularly hectic and nerve wracking night of studying, confessed that she had been terrified and lonely in her first year, and that she had, after some friendly advice, used the power of knowledge to protect herself. It had always surprised Neville the type of things one hears when being very quiet, and no one ever seemed to take the Hufflepuffs, at least when they were alone, very seriously. So, quite frequently, he ended up hearing things of a nature that would probably not have been said around a member of a different House.
Once Neville had started thinking that maybe he could be prepared for his fears, if not facing them directly, he started getting a bit creative with his Herbology skills. And thankfully, his dorm mates in Hufflepuff were more than willing to let him take over part of their room for a little mini greenhouse which he was using to devastating effect. It wasn't particularly difficult to raise a multitude of plants with effects similar to the Calming Draught or a minor Pepper Up potion, and with such tools at his disposable Neville was slowly regaining some control over his life. And he was more than willing to share with his housemates, who had been a godsend. He had been so nervous 3 years ago, but they had all been there for him, even the older kids, and this had all been before he had started to use his Herbology skills for his and their benefit.
And so it was with the support of his housemates in his heart and anxiety over a vampire in his brain that Neville confined himself to the library, hoping desperately that there was some kind of plant he could make use of as a shield against his fear. And then maybe he could figure out some kind of repellent for the Dark Emperor of Goblins who would be stealing their souls on Halloween, as some people said.
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Luna Lovegood sat outside in the soft September heat, shoes off, and her feet squished into the grass that was lush on the ground. She had been here out for a long time, enjoying the eerie quiet of the outside as everyone inside went loudly sane with their anxiety ridden rumors that rampaged through rooms and hallways. She much preferred her quiet insanity of the dirt and grass. It was quite the beautiful night out, though every night was beautiful, she supposed if you were sitting in the right place. And as a stiff breeze blew its way through the trees and grass, swirling leaves and her skirt, she bent with it, just like the living things around her, angled in the green and quiet but for the roaring of a planet hurtling through space as it was all still in its rotation.
Luna Lovegood sat outside and did nothing as the day ended.
A/N #2
Very minor changes in this chapter.
A/N:
Yeah, Vampire Defense Professor. I know I don't have a track record really, but I do have some good reasons for this, and hopefully it won't suck shit.
Um, this chapter pretty much just sets up everything for motivations and goals and shit. I'm hoping that nothing crazy new will be popping up from this, and it should cover all the crazy new shit i've introduced. Of course, it still might not be clear what Harry aka Marfoir (is Marfoir the stupidest fucking name? I cant tell, but I am super worried about it. Please let me know?) is doing, but I know what he is doing, so try not to have a heart attack. Voldermort will also be in this.
Draco isn't a fucking idiot in this.
Also, Snape. Snape will be kinda important, and I had a cool epiphany about him, and I'll be explaining it in story, so you'll have to wait to see how brilliant I am.
Whatcha think about Marfoir's magic? I hope it is coming off as interesting at least. It has its own advantages and disadvantages, but the kid is powerful, which will mean his enemies will be powerful. An important thing to keep in mind. Marfoir won't be walking all over people.
Also, I wanted to mention that this isn't stuff I had all written before, this is all stuff that I just wrote on the spot and then updated immediately. So, if current trends stay, then this story will, hopefully, be updated every 2-3 days. Let's hope that keeps up.
okay, hope you all don't die and shit.
huggles and snuggles and whatever the fuck,
ian