NIFLHEIM ACADEMY

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Summary: "The Ministry must be seen to do something", and with that, Harry Potter's wand is snapped. Expelled in his second year, he is invited to a new school famous for being the home of one of the Eight Great Repositories of Knowledge. But with Voldemort alive and the Chamber of Secrets still open, he will need every resource his new school possesses to stay alive in the coming years.

Warnings: Slash, fem-slash, het, character death, Canon-mangling, torture, politics, a BUTTLOAD of Original Characters, Original magic, minor crossovers with: Abhorsen triology, Mahou Sensei Negima, Avatar the Last Airbender, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Shadow Hearts, and Monster Hunter.

I do not own Harry Potter, Abhorsen, Mahou Sensei Negima, Avatar, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Shadow Hearts, or Monster Hunter. I'm just playing with them.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

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Jesse kept talking, and talking, and talking. Following him out from dinner and up to his room, exclaiming loudly that he had his own room, and then over Hedwig (who cracked open an amber eye to glare grumpily at him for waking her), and then going completely gaga over Harry's Nimbus 2000. Apparently he had only ever seen pictures of the racing broom.

"Say what ya like about the Brits bein' backwards ass tea-thumpers, no offence, but they know how ta build a broom!" he declared squatting in front of it gleefully, not daring to touch it, or even breathe too hard near it. Which Harry was grateful for, his hands were getting a bit itchy with the need to put his broom somewhere safe, not that he thought the American would steal it, but... he didn't know why, he guessed it was a sting of possessiveness, maybe? Either way, Harry was glad he wasn't trying to touch it, he was... rather protective of his broom. Letting Ron fly it was one thing, he trusted Ron and knew he was both a good flyer plus, whatever was Harry's he also considered to be Ron's as well, kind of. But to let a complete stranger touch his broom? He was a bit uncomfortable at the thought, and then guilty for disliking the fact.

"Hell yeah, Transfiguration! I thought I was the only one here who knew it!" the blond exclaimed, having abandoned his drooling over the Nimbus to explore Harry's bookshelves. "Weird isn't it, that they don't have either Trans or Charms on the electives, huh?" he continued pulling The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 from the shelf. "Huh, Hogwarts really is top tier. We didn't start learning this stuff until fourth year," he observed as he flipped through the basic second year spells.

Harry blinked at him, "That's a second year text," he blurted in surprise. Seriously? They didn't start teaching these spells until fourth year in America?

Jesse nearly dropped the book, gaping at him, "Seriously! I only got this on my required readin' list last year! I mean, I know the spells already, but that's 'cause the corridor fights can get nasty. I'm still shit at the Disarming charm though," he admitted with a grimace. "Daaamn, I'm gunna be so behind when we get t'school," he moaned unhappily as he slumped in place.

Harry chewed his bottom lip, "Well, you won't be as bad as me, at least," he pointed out, trying to cheer him up. "I'm only a second year, I didn't even know I had magic until I was invited to Hogwarts. Niflheim looks really intense," he pointed out as he drew his feet up onto his bed, sitting crossed legged.

Jesse blinked up at him, looking stunned.

"Wait... you're attending Niflheim too?" he spluttered in shock.

Harry frowned slightly at him, "Yes..." He thought that was obvious, wasn't it?

Brown eyes went wide, "Oh my god, you're like... ten!"

"Twelve!" Harry corrected indignantly, but it didn't look like Jesse was paying attention anymore.

He was putting a hand to his head and looking as though his entire world view had been irrevocably changed, "I thought I was hot shit for being powerful enough to get accepted out of everyone else at school. But you're like, five years younger than me ("Three!" Harry snapped hotly, scowling. He was not ten thank you very much!) and already just as strong, fuck what do they feed you in England?" he moaned in disbelief.

Would it be going too far to kick him, Harry wondered, scowling.

"I am twelve, not ten," he stressed, glaring at the blond. "And if it makes you feel better, I don't think anyone else at Hogwarts has been accepted either."

It was actually a little odd, now that he thought about it. Hermione may not have been as magically powerful as him, but she was much more versatile. And he knew for a fact that Neville had hidden potential, he could see it like a cloak laid across his shoulders. The twins were pretty strong too. So why hadn't they been invited? Surely Professor Dumbledore would have also been just as powerful, if not more so, at Harry's current age, so why hadn't he been offered an invitation? Or was this, yet again, another Boy Who Lived exception?

The blond shrugged, "I'm not surprised. Hell, I was more shocked to see you here than anything else. The European schools have laws that once you've started a school you've gotta finish it, and you're not allowed to transfer. S'why when you get expelled from one, y'can't just go to another. Which is bullshit, what a dumb idea."

Well, that was one question answered. Apparently being expelled from Hogwarts meant no chance of continuing his magical education in Europe. But what did this mean for Niflheim?

"But... I was expelled from Hogwarts. Does that mean I shouldn't have been invited?" he asked anxiously.

Jesse peered at him, flabbergasted, "What the hell were you expelled for? No offence, but you're not exactly the delinquent type, y'know? You look 'bout as threatenin' as a damp kitten."

Harry grimaced, "I'm a Parselmouth. Something was attacking students, people thought it was me because I could speak to snakes and apparently that makes you evil." He shrugged aggressively, helplessly, still hurt and

Jesse's eyebrows were near his hairline, "You're a Parselmouth?! THAT'S SO COOL!" he yelled, pumping his fists, and nearly making Harry topple off the bed in shock. It apparently pissed his neighbours off too because a moment later there was thumping on the wall and angry Finnish swearing at them. Jesse paid them no mind, leaning forward with stars in his eyes, "Do you have any idea how useful that'd be back home? Dad takes me boatin' down Florida to see Uncle Shane and we keep runnin' into these huge pythons. No word of a lie, one tried to snatch Rambo, my uncle's dog, clean off the boat! Dad smacked it in the face with an oar and it swam off real quick but it had to be about thirteen feet long, at least!" he gushed rapidly, grinning from ear to ear. "Folk in England only think Snake Speakin's evil 'cause you don't have snakes that can kill you. Everywhere else in the world where you've got shit like fifteen foot constrictors or cotton mouths or mambas think Parselmouths are the shit. Our History teacher back at Saint Johns was Native American, he told us about how the Aztecs used to practically worship their snake speakers. They were considered precious gifts from the gods and were exempt from all ritual sacrifice unless it was like... world ending shit. The only time any magical aztecs ever sacrificed a Snake Speaker was during a Solar Eclipse when they actually thought the world was coming to an end. Over in China, Parselmouths are automatically royalty. The moment one's found, they're snap married or adopted into the Emperor's family, no exceptions. An' last I heard, they're considered pretty much national treasures by the Australian Magic Users. Oh man, there's gunna be a shitstorm when word gets out that a Snake Speaker got expelled for being what they are from a British school!"

Jesse looked as if he were relishing the fall out. Harry was pretty sure he had gone pale, and a little queasy looking.

A mental note: Never go to China.

But Jesse didn't stop there, "I bet you'll dominate in our Healing classes, Parselmouths have a natural affinity for healing magic an' shit. S'why the cadueus medical symbol has two snakes around a winged rod. Two snakes mean a Parselmouth healer, one means a regular healer," he explained, sat cross legged on Harry's floor now, holding his feet as he lectured. "The no-maj use different stuff, but that's how it goes in Hospitals over in the states."

For someone so worried that he would be at the bottom of the class, Jesse was actually pretty knowledgeable when it came to World History. His trivia knowledge about various subjects was extensive, and he had absolutely no problem with sharing it as Harry learned the hard way. The friendly American boy going on, and on, and on, seemingly quite content to carry the conversation himself with only minimal input from Harry. The minimal apparently being vague eye contact and the occasional noise from his audience.

It was well after dark by the time Harry's jaw cracking yawn finally managed to jar the blond out of his excitable babble.

"Oh no, I kept you up late with all that useless crap! I'm so sorry! Ma always said I was a total motor mouth. I'll let you go to bed! See ya tomorrow Harry!" he exclaimed, whirling out of the Gryffindor's room at speed.

How could he maintain that degree of energy at this time of night?

Harry glanced over to his desk, giving passing thought to finishing his letter to Ron before deciding against it. He changed for bed, slipped out of his room to visit the bathroom facilities down the hall where he brushed his teeth and did his business before going back. He drew the curtains over the still open window, shivering a little at how frigid the room was, but unwilling to close the window and trap Hedwig inside. He tugged his cloak off the back of the door and laid it out over his bedding as a second blanket before crawling in. With the cloak on top, the chilled sheets quickly began to warm up and before long he was nice and snug.

And completely dead to the world, sleeping hard and deep, without dreams.

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He finished his letter off before breakfast and sent Hedwig away with the rising sun to deliver it. She had slept well and the cool air had done her some good, one of the things he was constantly worried about was how overheated she could sometimes get in the summer months. Hopefully with the colder climate they were moving to, she would be more comfortable.

He opened the door to Jesse pacing just outside, muttering under his breath, looking frazzled. He was wearing regular muggle clothing, trainers, jeans with a few holes in the knees that Harry could see leggings through, and a black high-necked fleece under an orange and blue american football hoodie with the number 28 emblazoned across the back in white piping. His somewhat curly blond hair was sticking up at the back of his head as if he hadn't brushed it.

"Harry!" the boy yelped, spotting him, quickly raking a hand through his hair, patting it down and ruffling it up before pulling on it. "Hey man, ya sleep well? I didn't wake ya, did I? Oh man, I didn't wanna wake ya so I just stayed here, I thought we could go down to breakfast together, since ya know, we're friends an' all, right? Right. We're friends, right?" he asked nervously, once again dragging his fingers through his hair.

Harry shifted uncomfortably outside his door, "Uh... sure?" he asked faintly.

He didn't have a chance to say anything else before he was being dragged into a headlock, "Fuckin' A!" the blond shouted excitedly before starting to drag Harry down the corridor. "I hope they have pancakes downstairs! I'm starving. Do ya like pancakes, Harry? Mum don't make 'em much – " aaaand he was off again. Harry grimaced and managed to wriggle himself free, drawing the edges of his cloak tightly around himself like a blanket, and snuggling into the dark fabric to ward off any further attempts to touch him. He did not like people touching him, even Hermione, arguably the most cuddly of his friends, respected that unspoken desire.

Mister Arif was waiting for them in the foyer, "Ah, boys, if you two would step in here? Your mentors have arrived and will be assigned as soon as everyone is present."

Jesse glanced between the living room and the dining room with a conflicted expression, "Can – can we get breakfast first, Mister Arif? I'm starving," he asked hopefully.

The Sikh gentleman laughed, "I'm afraid not, Mister Carter. It's something of a tradition for the mentors to take their students out for breakfast, you'll just have to wait until you're assigned," he explained and gestured them into the small living room where a few of their yearmates were already waiting.

The six people already present almost to a total did a doubletake at the sight of him, and Harry drew his cloak a little more tightly around himself, uncomfortable with the staring.

A boy with a wide face and large flat nose, and horns turned to Mister Arif, grunting something to him in what Harry managed to identify as Norwegian, Mister Arif laughed and replied cheerfully to whatever it was that had been asked, and suddenly the other six students were all gaping at him. Harry grimaced before hunching over.

A boy with long brown dreadlocks interspaced with leaves shook his head, "I apologise for them," he said, his limbs creaking like wood as he moved closer. "None expected someone so young to have been invited. I am Nikos Petridis, of Greece," he introduced with a graceful bow of his head. At a guess, Harry pegged him as about maybe sixteen. He most definitely wasn't human, his features were very beautiful, classically Greek in much the same way as he had seen pictures of busts and statues of Olympian athletes, but his skin was a very queer texture, looking more like pale treebark than anything, his eyes were a bright dragonfly green, and now that he was closer, what Harry had first thought were dreadlocks he could now see were actually willow-tree fronds with still living green leaves growing from them, leaves the exact colour of his eyes.

Harry quickly realised he was staring and shook himself, "Sorry, I – I'm Harry Potter, um, of England? It's nice to meet you," he greeted, bowing a little more clumsily. Judging by the small smile that creased across Nikos' face, that had been the right thing to do.

"I am a Willow Dryad. I take it our kind are not common in England?" he asked kindly, no doubt having noticed Harry's staring. The Gryffindor flushed in embarrassment.

"I – couldn't say. I've never seen one, but, I only just... I only – I only found out about magic last year," he admitted, his voice dying to a near whisper as he once again became aware of people staring at him.

Nikos nodded, "I did not think so, though I had hoped." He turned to Jesse and bowed his head, "I apologise for my poor manner, may I ask your name?"

The blond blinked rapidly, having apparently been staring at him in abject confusion the whole time, "Uhh, J-Jesse Carter. American, from Georgia, East Coast. Does your hair grow flowers in spring?" he asked in a complete daze.

Harry winced and immediately wished the floor would swallow him whole when Nikos' expression wavered for a moment.

"No. I do not. Only those over the age of twenty summers can flower," he explained, mild as milk smile still upon his grey-brown rough features.

"Oh," the American said.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, silently begging someone, anyone to interrupt and save him from death via mortification.

Thankfully he apparently didn't have to wait long as the Headmistress appeared in the doorway with Mister Arif, the Hostel Manager smiled at them all as he quickly passed through the room with a box of what looked like small clip-on earrings in a box. He seemed to pause every now and again to quietly explain what they were to each of the eleven students in the room. Harry, Jesse, and Nikos were last.

"Handy little translation enchantments," Mister Arif explained in English when he reached them, "You'll learn how to make them in your enchantments class later. You'll hear every conversation translated into your mother tongue, but be aware that you will not be able to speak any other language but those you already know. They just help you to understand," he explained softly as two sets of earrings were given to each of them. They were all different looking, and made of various substances, some looked like regular bog standard earrings, others had been stylised to look like animals climbing up the sides of their ears. Nikos collected a simple set of red beads to clip to his ears, Jesse eagerly grabbed a set that made it look as if he had tiny dragons clinging to his ears, and Harry collected the first he touched, a pair of small silver wings that went on the tips of his ears.

"Now that we're all equipped," the Headmistress began, speaking in Norwegian, but only English registering in Harry's mind. That was so weird, awesome, but weird. "I will be introducing you to your mentors shortly. They will have the requisit papers, your equipment lists, student handbooks, etc. I will expect good behaviour from all of you. Some of your mentors will be younger than you are, but bare in mind they have been attending this school for three years already. You will respect them. Am I clear? I do not wish to assign detentions before the school year even begins, but rest assured, I am not above it," she warned seriously as she overlooked each and every one of them, meeting their eyes and holding them until she received a nod. Satisfied she reached into a pocket on her coat and withdrew a sheet of paper, "Elizaveta Vasilieva, please step this way. Your mentor is waiting outside."

Harry watched as the oldest in the room got to her feet, she was a pretty young woman, maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen, tall with dark hair in a ponytail, and heavy eyebrows over equally dark eyes. She nodded to the Headmistress and stepped out of the room in silence, and without a backwards glance.

"Yasin Mohammed, this way please," the Headmistress announced after a short pause, no doubt to give the mentor outside the chance to introduce themselves to Elizaveta and take her somewhere else.

Harry watched as a vaguely asian boy of about seventeen, lanky and tall, with rich dark skin and the beginnings of curly facial hair whiskering at the corners of his mouth got to his feet and after glancing at the boys he had been sat on the couch with, hurried from the room with a murmured comment to the Headmistress that Harry was too far away to hear. Again they waited for a moment until the Headmistress spoke again.

"Nikos Petridis, this way please," she announced, the Dryad gave a small bow to Harry and Jesse before turning away and making his way to the door, once there, he turned and bowed to the room as a whole once again (only a few of them bowed back, Harry and Jesse amongst them), before turning and stepping through.

The next two were both Lirren boys, Magnus Berg being the one with the large wide face that first spoke when Harry came in, he looked like some kind of buffalo type Lirren with a faintly hunched back and a huge, absolutely huge barrel chest and broad shoulders, his thick dark hair was like a curly rug that extended from the top of his head, down his back and around his neck almost like a luxurious ruff. Next to him, Topi Lahtinen was both tiny, but easily identifiable by comparison as a Lynx based Lirren, his bestial ears tufted right at the very tips, and his sideburns long and caramel coloured with white tips. By this point it had become rather obvious that they were being called up according to age, oldest through to youngest.

After them was Jesse, who suddenly grabbed Harry's hand hard enough to crush it a little.

The Gryffindor's mouth opened soundlessly in pain as his whole body curled a little. The blond didn't notice, he was swearing under his breath, chalk white, and sweating a little in horror. The Headmistress smirked a little in amusement, "I promise she doesn't bite, Mister Carter," she assured him and, now eager, Jesse released Harry's now very sore hand and flashed him a grin and a thumbs up before practically jogging across the room. Now sunshine and daisies with the knowledge that he had a female mentor.

"Viivi Tuominen, if you would," Catherine called once she felt they had given Jesse enough time to be dragged off by his mentor, whomever she was. Harry watched as one of the few girls in the room got to her feet, and found himself staring in unabashed awe.

She had wings.

Not only just a spray of feathers tucked behind her ears in shades of black and white, but also draped across her back were a set of huge black wings with white undersides. Her head was completely bald, no hair at all save for her eyebrows, and the small spray of feathers tucked behind her ears. At first, Harry thought she must have been some kind of vulture Lirren before remembering the Headmistress explaining that the Lirren did not have aquatic, or avian subspecies. This girl was what was more commonly known as a Tengu, a bird person. A condor tengu.

After her was another two boys, both fifteen. A Viking blond Dwarf of about fifteen, complete with luxurious beard possessing gold and copper highlights, by the name of Joakim Olsson, and a white fox Lirren by the name of Ausrine Urbonas. Then the youngest in the room aside from himself, a fourteen year old girl by the name of Ingrid Dahl, a magpie tengu with considerably smaller wings than Viivi. Harry didn't know if it was because she was a magpie or if she just liked them, but she was decked out in a great deal of silver jewellery and other sparkly things, like a silver top made entirely of silver and mother of pearl coloured sequins.

Then it was just him.

The Headmistress smiled at him, "Harry Potter, if you please," she announced, not changing her manner in the slightest, which was relieving as he didn't want to be treated any differently to his classmates.

Swallowing nervously, Harry squared his shoulders, he was a Gryffindor, he had agreed to this new school thing, gone to another country to get his education, he could do this. It was no-where near as scary as going through the trap door.

He marched across the room and nodded to the Headmistress before stepping into the Foyer where his mentor was waiting.

He was very white, Harry decided at first glance.

As in, the colour white, not the ethnicity. His mentor was a Snow Leopard Lirren with pure snow white hair, ears, a tail long enough to touch the floor, and eyes such a pale blue-silver they looked almost colourless. The young man smiled at him. He looked to be about sixteen, a little below average height, his white hair was somewhat long, framing his face and just brushing his shoulders, he had a narrow cat-like nose and high cheekbones, his face was patterned with small dark grey marks that looked almost like dirty smudges but Harry could tell were actually skin discolourations, markings that dotted his cheeks, framed his face, and lined his eyes. He wore a normal dark grey knitted polo-neck, and washed out jeans tucked into a pair of heavy black boots, a chain hanging from one belt-loop to his back pocket, likely attached to a wallet. Harry couldn't help but notice his tail was very fluffy. Like a huge length of tinsel tucked into the back of his jeans.

"Harry Potter?" the Lirren asked, Harry nodded and his smile warmed considerably, "Name's Ira Nim. Call me Ira, I'm your mentor. Nice to meet you," he explained, sticking a clawed hand out.

Harry accepted it, unable to stop himself from staring down at his hands as they shook. He had very velvety soft hands, or rather, paw pads, Harry realised when he felt the difference in texture between his palms and the sides of his fingers. His nails were more like hallow sheaths at the tips of his fingers, and when they pulled their hands apart, Ira flexed his fingers and five very wicked scythe-hook like claws slid from those little sheaths.

"I'm a Snow Leopard Lirren, in case you couldn't tell. Don't be shy about asking questions if you want to know anything, I'm hear to help," Ira explained with a smile as he relaxed his fingers and allowed the claws to slide back under his flesh.

"Cool," Harry managed to get out, much to the older boy's amusement.

"Glad you think so. What do you want for breakfast? It's something of a tradition for mentors to take their charges out and get to know them. I know a really good pancake place," he offered with a friendly smile.

Harry found his lips twitching upwards almost without noticing, "Pancakes sound good. I've always wanted to try them," he admitted, beginning to relax a little.

Ira opened the front door, "Well, what are we waiting for then?" he asked brightly.

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I have been wanting to introduce Ira for ages now. He's actually one of my oldest surviving OC characters from back in secondary school, over a decade ago.

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, don't worry about the sudden influx of Ocs, you won't be expected to remember all of them. Still, I hope you liked the few extra world-building points here, Hogwarts is supposed to be the best, and Jesse comes from a very minor Inner City magic school with barely 40 students in total. It stands to reason that a very underfunded inner city school in an abandoned church would have significantly poorer standards than a very private boarding school in a castle with thousands of years worth of history as a school behind it.