A/N: So here we go again! We're surprised with all the Christmas madness and the many things we've had to do before NYE, that we've found time to do this chappie at all!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and enjoyed the last chapter. Sorry, but Dumbles didn't roll a double so he doesn't get out of jail just yet.
This fic has a "T" rating, and while there is the mention of both slash and multi relationships, they are not center stage, and won't be graphic. HP/LL/NT/FW/GrW, NL/CW, BW/HG, RL/KS, mention of RL/SB. There is also some violence, bloodshed and mention of rape (off screen) in this chapter.
We own nothing except the plot. JKRowling is still the Big Cheese. So we will have a slice cut with Samurai Swords.
Chapter Seven: It's Just a Little Bit of Blood
Robes billowing, Severus Snape strode along the third floor hallway of Malfoy Manor, descended the stairs to his usual suite of rooms, and having disabled the various locking and protective charms, flung open the door and swept inside.
Swiftly, he moved to his potions cabinet and removed two pepper-up potions, a minor bone healer, a half-strength blood-replenishing draught and two anti-Cruciatus potions. With these cradled protectively against his chest, he quickly returned upstairs, pausing only to re-lock and ward his door.
As he opened the door to Narcissa's suite, he could hear the blonde witch whimpering in pain and he rolled his eyes. If the stupid woman had just kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't be in this state. Whilst the Dark Lord had been amused by the slap fight between Bella and her sister, he had not been amused enough to withhold punishment.
Shaking his head to himself, Snape moved to the side of the bed and looked down at the normally aristocratic and aloof woman who was now disheveled in torn robes with the tracks of tears marking her normally beautiful face. He slipped one arm under her shoulders and lifted her up enough to feed her one of the anti-Cruciatus potions, holding her twitching spasming body tightly clamped against his chest so as to insure she drank it. Then he sat on the edge of the wide, canopied bed and waited for five minutes until the spasms eased, then handed her the blood-replenishing draught.
Voldemort tended to take a rather twisted pleasure in degrading his aristocratic pure-blood followers, and tonight's revel had been no different. If only Narcissa had not asked about Lucius, demanding to know just what the Dark Lord was going to do to retrieve his followers from Azkaban.
Snape had no doubt the prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus had been demeaning enough, but not apparently for Voldemort, who had decreed (as Narcissa was clearly missing her husband) that he would provide for her needs - and had handed her over to face the ten new male recruits - including her own son.
Severus had no doubt the resulting display had been most educational for the three teenage girls who had also taken the mark that night. Of them, only Pansy Parkinson had not looked away or been physically ill as Narcissa was repeatedly 'punished'.
He had been most surprised when Draco had not baulked at participating in his mother's degradation. Voldemort too had actually seemed somewhat impressed. That had, however, not stopped him from personally Crucio-ing each and every one of the newly marked Death Eaters. He had seemed to take particular pleasure in torturing Draco, to the point where the boy had torn several rib cartilages screaming.
Snape saw that Narcissa had fallen asleep, and rose to his feet, silently leaving the room and heading towards his Godson's quarters. Whatever other care Narcissa would need, her house elves could provide, after all, it wasn't the first time. He wanted to get the rest of the potions down Draco's throat as quickly as possible, and after that, he was taking himself back to Hogwarts before either Malfoy could think of some other order to give him.
-]- - -
Rita "The Beetle" Skeeter had found a dead easy way into the home of Potter's muggle relatives. She'd simply snuck in through the back door when the horse-faced blonde woman had gone out to place a sack of garbage in a receptacle outside.
Now, perched on top of one of the kitchen cabinets, she was listening avidly as the woman and her grotesque husband discussed young Harry, thanking Merlin she'd had the foresight to put the new recording spell on herself. Instead of having to rely on just her memory, now there was a special quill back in her office at 'The Daily Prophet' recording every single thing she heard, no matter where she was or in what form..
And oh, the things she was hearing! How Dumbledore had left the precious Boy Who Lived with Muggles who hated not just him with a passion but his parents too, who cared not in the slightest that the sainted James and Lily Potter were dead, who hated all magic users and considered them freaks.
She would've gasped if she could have when she heard they had actually been instructed to treat Harry badly and had been told to use whatever means short of extreme physical violence to make him weak, needy and obedient. She also heard how they had been richly paid for caring for him, large sums of money coming from the Potter estate, yet with specific instructions from Dumbledore for nothing to be spent on Harry himself. This was of particular interest, Skeeter thought, as she had no idea why the Potters would have named Dumbledore their Executor, or their son's Magical Guardian. Oh, the opportunities for further digging were just multiplying!
She heard things about a cupboard that she would never have believed if someone else had told her, about a child being starved, beaten and mistreated, locked up for days at a time. Every word gave her a warm and comforting feeling, for it would surely be the story of the decade, if not the century, and it would have her name on the byline!
If she could have rubbed her hands together in glee, Rita would have.
The amount of dirt being dished up on his Supreme Mugwumpiness was fabulous! She had always thought him an obsolete old dingbat, but now she knew he was a cold-hearted, manipulative, ruthless son-of-a-witch, and she was going to take immense pleasure in revealing this, not just to the British wizarding public, but to the international magical community at large.
With this in mind, as the two Muggles lowered their voices to speak more privately, no doubt for fear their repulsive offspring in the other room might hear them, Rita decided to move down to the bench where she would have a far better chance of overhearing, and recording, every juicy tidbit.
The chunky little beetle with the square markings around its antenna flew clumsily down towards the area beside the stove where Petunia was busily preparing chicken breasts for pan frying.
As she did so, Rita passed a strange device on the wall which she had noticed squirted out some kind of potion every few minutes or so. As she flew past it, it sprayed her and she immediately felt as if she was choking.
Never a particularly good flier at the best of times, this threw off Rita's equilibrium so badly she entirely missed the bench and instead landed right on top of the piece of chicken Petunia was about to pound into a schnitzel with a meat mallet.
Petunia had really enjoyed being able to unload all of her venom and hatred of her abnormal relatives onto her ever-understanding and supportive Vernon. He was such a treasure! She ran the evening's menu past her mind's eye, planning on making his favorite mashed potatoes with chives and cheese, the buttered peas and honeyed carrots he loved and his favorite rich gravy to have with the chicken. With these thoughts, she began to carefully pound a new chicken breast to an even thinness.
It was then the ugliest, spikiest, most disgusting beetle she had ever seen crash-landed right onto the chicken she was preparing for her beloved Vernon's dinner.
Petunia shrieked and out of reflex flicked her hand at the beetle, sending it flying across the stove, barely avoiding a fatal plunge into the pot of boiling peas. Instead it bounced twice on the bench on the far side of the stove before banging into the wall and falling onto the bench, apparently dazed.
Petunia frantically began searching through the cupboard under the sink until she found the large tin of extra strength bug spray. She proceeded to spray the beetle with such enthusiasm, it and the bench beneath it were soon drenched with insecticide.
The beetle, proving to have more stamina than Petunia would ever have expected, staggered to its feet and began to weave drunkenly across the bench-top, leaving wet beetle footprints everywhere. Seeing it lurching closer to her, Petunia screamed again, dropped the bug spray and grabbed the nearest thing she could to get it away from her.
This proved to be the meat mallet.
With a demented gleam in her eyes, Petunia began to flail away at the beetle which somehow seemed to realize it was in mortal danger, for it ducked and weaved in a way that was almost human. However, the flyspray had clearly affected its reflexes and Petunia got in a lucky hit.
With a cry of triumph, Petunia brought the meat mallet smashing down and managed to crush the rear half of the beetle into beetle juice.
Then something truly terrible happened.
The beetle screamed.
Even as Petunia registered this, the front half of the beetle, trying desperately to drag itself across the bench, fell to the floor, still screaming in its tiny little beetle voice and before Petunia's horrified gaze abruptly expanded into a woman whose body from the waist down was mashed beyond recognition, and who was now bleeding profusely all over Petunia's pristine kitchen floor.
Vernon, hearing the ruckus, burst into the kitchen to see his wife clutching a bloody meat mallet and screeching shrilly at a hideously injured blonde woman lying on the floor screaming.
Vernon clutched his ample chest and fainted.
The collapse of her husband seemed to galvanize Petunia into action, and shrieking hysterically, she proceeded to beat the top of what had been a beetle into a paste similar to its lower half.
Sometime later, when Dudley went to the kitchen to get a snack, he was greeted by the sight of his father lying dead on the floor clutching his chest, his face blue, his mother curled up in a fetal ball covered in blood and crooning to a meat mallet she was stroking in a most disturbing way - and what appeared to be, at first glance, some kind of deflated blow-up doll...
It was Dudley's screams that eventually brought the neighbors to investigate.
-]- - -
Harry's return to consciousness came in a series of flashbacks and memories - and no matter how hard he tried, he could not speed up the process - in the end resigning himself to simply going with the flow….
His first awareness was of something warm and soft pressing between his shoulder-blades and some soft substance brushing across his face. For a long moment he simply enjoyed the sense of warmth and comfort before finally opening his eyes.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"SQUARK!"
"MEROWR!"
"SQWEET!"
Harry shot bolt-upright, his heart hammering, and clutched at his chest. "Bloody hell! What are you lot trying to do, scare me to death?"
He stared accusingly at the phoenix, the kneazle and the snowy owl who had been, moments before, sitting vulture-like around his head, staring down into his face as he slept.
Feminine laughter drew his attention from the magical animals and he looked down to see Luna and Tonks lying beside him on either side and he abruptly realized that they had been the lovely, warm softnesses he had been enjoying.
Abruptly his mind cleared, his eyes widened and he looked frantically around. "Moony! Hermione! Neville!" He exclaimed even as Luna sat up and grasped his arm and Tonks, her hair flashing a brilliant cerulean blue, draped herself over his legs.
"Harry, it's alright," The Metamorphmagus explained, "everyone is fine! You've been out to it for three days."
The three people he'd named rushed over to him, followed by his other loved ones, a grinning Ragnok and an elderly female goblin he didn't know. She was a couple of inches shorter than Ragnok, with dozens of tiny braids of white hair dotted randomly over her head and neck, her skin was an odd pale green and her eyes were pastel pink, which Harry realized meant she was an albino. She was wearing a long suede dress, with a beautiful cream colored dragonskin robe over it, and her feet were bare.
"Hey cub." Moony said cheerfully. "It's about time you woke up. Things to do, Wills to be read, ordeals to be undergone." He grinned wolfishly at his nephew who was looking at him with a slightly gobsmacked expression.
"Moony! You're alright!" Harry shouted, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself at the werewolf who barely managed to catch him.
"Of course I am." Remus said, "Thanks to Ragnok and the healing skills of Shamaness Aksaki."
Harry's eyes immediately went to the female goblin who grinned toothily at him. Releasing his uncle, Harry bowed politely to her. "Thank you for helping my friends. If there is ever anything I or House Potter can do for you, you only have to ask."
Aksaki studied him carefully, her pale beady eyes gleaming. "You are most polite for a human, and your offer is honorably made. I accept and will indeed call on you when the time is right." She then proceeded to ask him several questions about his health, peered into his eyes and cast half a dozen diagnostic spells wandlessly before pronouncing him completely well.
Once she was finished with him, Harry turned to Ragnok. "I see we are in a cavern but the last I remember was your office, Director. Can someone please tell me what happened? Oh! And Dobby. Where's Dobby?"
Bill and Charlie moved apart and beyond them, Harry glimpsed his little friend curled up on a blanket, sound asleep.
"He's fine," Bill said, "just exhausted. When you faced all the goblins attacking, Dobby was still invisible, but standing beside you. It was his elf magic that pulled the weapons off the walls and floor and spun them around you, but it was your raw power that hurled them. We think the two of you were able to join your magic that way because of just how close you are and how deep your master/elf bond is."
"The two of you saved the rest of us," Charlie added, and everyone nodded and made sounds of agreement.
"Your actions certainly saved me," Ragnok said gravely "and I acknowledge the life debt I owe you, Lord-Elect Potter."
Harry was all set to deny his claim, but abruptly realized that could be interpreted as an insult and swallowed the hasty comment. Instead he bowed to Ragnok and just as Aksaki had said, he verbally accepted the debt. "I'm glad Dobby and I were able to protect you all, but I am so sorry for all of your people that I killed, Ragnok. I wish there had been some other way." He added, looking haunted and distressed.
The elderly goblin walked up to him and gripped his right forearm. "They chose the path of dishonor and betrayal, Harry. If they had not died in the battle, I would have had no option but to order their execution anyway. If I had allowed them to live, I would have been seen as weak and those who are as yet undecided as to which faction they will support, would have joined my enemies, the ones who believe the Goblin Nation would be best served by supporting the Dark Lord. It is better they died fighting, for that at least brings them back a small part of their honor and protects their families from retribution and execution, according to our laws."
Harry's expression was downcast. "I feel terrible about their deaths, but I understand what you're saying. I just hope their families won't hate me too much."
"Hate you?" exclaimed Aksaki. "Not at all, young wizard. By killing them in battle, you have ensured they will Cross The River as warriors, misguided yes, but not cowardly. Their families rejoice in this and have firmly aligned themselves with Chief Ragnok. Because of your actions, many of the undecided clan chiefs have now thrown their support behind him, thus leaving our enemies much weakened and few in number."
Not only that," Kingsley interjected, "but Hedwig turned up with a message written in gobbledygook. How she got it we have no idea, but it was written by a goblin Ragnok had thought was loyal to him, that teller who fetched Hackblade."
The director nodded. "Indeed. Bonechewer was my fourth daughter's second husband's brother and was thus a trusted member of my family. Finding out he was a traitor was a great blessing, for I questioned him most vigorously and discovered several other traitors I have been able to have captured and questioned."
Harry looked at his owl who had a definitely smug expression on her face. He crouched down beside her so she could hop up easily onto his shoulder where he gently caressed her breast feathers. "Who's a very clever girl?" He said, and she nibbled on his ear affectionately. He glanced at Hermione and smiled, so glad to see her healed. "When did Crooks and Fawkes get here?" He asked her, as she scooped her Familiar up into her arms for a cuddle.
"They arrived directly after Hedwig flew in to the Director's office, literally as you collapsed. He must have known I was in trouble because having him here helped stabilize me and gave Aksaki more time to heal me." She explained,
Bill scratched under the kneazel's chin and grinned as he purred. "Just as soon as I can organize it, this furball is getting the best meal of his favorite foods," the ex-cursebreaker said, smiling at Hermione, who, Harry was very interested to note, blushed slightly.
The twins, who'd managed to remain remarkably quiet up until this point, both laughed. "You are so whipped," Fred chortled, and whilst Bill glared back at him, his expression lacked any real heat.
Harry looked around at the cavern they were in, noting it was perhaps twice the size of the Gryffindor common room, and other than a few blankets, was devoid of any furnishings, although the walls and floor had been smoothly polished. He also noticed an odd shimmer in the air and on the walls, and turned to Ragnok. "Where exactly are we Director?" he asked.
"Please call me Ragnok, you have well earned the right," the elder goblin said, "and we are in one of our small time controlled chambers. With you collapsed and your friends needing healing, I ordered your removal here, where each day is but an hour of external time. We have been here three days, meaning three hours, which has allowed your friends to be healed and for you to recover your magical strength. I had no wish to involve too many others so I had only Aksaki join us, although for your ritual, we will need some other magical specialists. We will also need to move to a larger spell-sealed time chamber which has a specially protected doorway, that allows for outsiders to enter without disrupting the time control. Given that you are most likely to require rest and healing after the adoption is complete, I deemed it best to make these preparations first, even though I had not yet discussed them with you."
Harry shook his head and smiled at the goblin. "I trust you Ragnok, and whatever you and Lady Aksaki feel is necessary, I am more than happy to go along with."
"We also have discussed something else Harry," Remus said, "something the rest of us believe will be incredibly beneficial." He glanced around at everyone then looked back at Harry. "The other chamber Ragnok mentioned is their longest time controlled room available, where each day in the outside world is six months in the chamber. Ragnok has proposed that we bring in not just those individuals needed for the ritual, but also a number of teachers and trainers, so that once the adoption is over, we will have approximately 19 months of magical time where we can all study fighting, languages, dueling, magic and any other subject you need. It will also give you plenty of time to adjust to whatever changes the adoption may bring."
Harry considered for a moment, then looked up at his uncle then across to the two goblins and grinned. "That sounds brilliant." He exclaimed. "Will we be able to learn goblin style magic and fighting?"
Ragnok nodded. "I will be bringing in my best warriors who will train you and your friends as is only right given the great service you have done me personally and the Goblin Nation in general."
"And I will bring in those who are most gifted in our magics and other subjects," Aksaki added. "I for one look forward to seeing what else you and your friends are capable of."
"In relation to your adoption ceremony, I have taken the liberty of gathering several other blood offerings to add to the those your godfather and friends collected," Ragnok said. "Mr. Lupin, your bond mates, and your elf Dobby have all donated. If you agree, I would be honored to add my blood too."
Bill made a muffled exclamation of surprise and Harry saw the startled expressions on most of his other companions' faces. Clearly this was an unexpected and rare offer. "I would be honored Ragnok," he said, extending his hand to the Director who, rather than shaking it, grasped forearms with him in the goblin manner.
"On that note, let us wake your elf and leave this room. We have much to organize." The elder goblin said...
Regaining consciousness was like swimming up from the depths of the Black Lake towards the sunlit surface, Harry thought, almost a reenactment of his experience in the second task of the Triwizard tournament, and it was as if shadow Grindylows were wrapped around his legs, forever drawing him downwards into darkness and oblivion, while he strained to reach the surface with every fiber of his being….
It took Ragnok just on five hours to completely end the attempted coup and insure that his own loyal supporters were completely in control of all aspects and areas of Gringott's.
While he was taking care of the political and security issues, Aksaki was a whirlwind of activity, collecting a diverse group of goblin specialists, mounds of supplies and all the other necessities for what was going to be a year and a half of close quarters living, following a major magical ceremony.
The majority of Harry's companions were split between the two goblins. Remus, Shack, Bill and Hermione aiding Ragnok while Charlie, Neville, and Dobby did their utmost to aid the Shamaness. This left Harry, Luna, Tonks and the twins together, and they spent those hours in quiet conversation, sharing their lives, their hopes and dreams, getting to know one-another not just as friends, but as those who would marry and would be with each other for the rest of their long lives.
It was a wonderful time and exactly what Harry needed to complete his recovery from the battle in Ragnok's office and the long held, lingering fears he was unworthy of love or companionship.
Those few hours finally saw the end of the Dursley's influence once and for all, and the emergence of a new, much more confident and peaceful Harry Potter, who knew without a shadow of a doubt he was loved and desired by the two men and two women who had pledged to unite their lives with his. And they were well on the way to loving each other just as certainly.
It had turned two A.M on the day of his birth when Remus came to get Harry and his four bonded. The werewolf had watched from a distance for some time how his cub and the others were interacting. It made his heart glad to see Harry so happy and he wished with all his heart that Sirius James and Lily could be there to see it too. Finally, with a shake of his head, Remus pulled himself together and approached the five young people.
"Harry, guys, we're ready! Ragnok has secured his powerbase and Aksaki has packed at least half of the entire contents of the goblin family tunnels so it's time for us to go."
Fred and George jumped to their feet and offered a hand each to the girls who in turn both grabbed Harry and everyone pulled each other to their feet. In silence they followed Remus as he led them over to the others who greeted them warmly, Hermione giving Harry one of her rib-cracking hugs.
"It is so good to see you so happy," she whispered, and felt him nod his head where his face was buried in her bushy hair.
"I am happy Hermione, I really am." And the siblings of choice hugged each other and smiled at each other, before Harry pulled away and returned to stand with his girls and the twins. At that moment Ragnok and Aksaki both returned and if the grins were anything to go by, they were obviously satisfied with all that they had achieved.
"Our timing is excellent," Aksaki declared as she bustled up and she looked at Harry piercingly. "We are now into your actual day of birth, and it will be most propitious to hold your adoption ceremony at the actual hour of your birth which is, I believe, in one and a half hours time. Let us all adjourn to the time controlled chamber and get started."
With that, she and Ragnok led the way, everyone else following, to the carts normally used to reach the underground vaults. After a hair-raising journey through the bowels of Gringott's, they pulled up at a landing in front of a pair of giant stone doors.
There were a number of goblins of both genders waiting and a mound of equipment and boxes. Ragnok placed his hands on the doors and they opened, revealing a large antechamber with another door set in the opposite wall. Everyone and all the equipment barely fitted in the room, and Ragnok sealed the doors behind them before opening the ones ahead.
Harry realized the system was like an airlock, as the Director opened the inner doors, and the same strange same shimmering Harry had noticed before in the other time chamber filled the air around them. The party proceeded forward into the next room, where Harry and the rest of the humans stumbled on the threshold and gazed around in awe.
"Wow!" Tonks exclaimed, her hair cycling through several shades of pink and neon blue.
"Merlin, it's huge!" Charlie added, gazing around. "You could fly a dragon in here!"
"Trust you to think of that," Neville said with a grin, and Charlie went to cuff him over the head, but the heir of Longbottom ducked, chuckling.
Harry was amazed by the sheer size of the chamber. It was at least four times the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the ceiling so high above it was lost in shadows. The central area of the floor was smooth white sand, and what he could see of the walls had been polished to a mirror shine and intricate bands of runes and other magical writing had been inlaid into them in precious metals and gems.
As the party moved further into the echoing cavern, they came to an area free of sand where the bedrock had been leveled and polished, and a massive permanent magical casting circle of pure gold had been inlaid into the rock.
This was clearly Aksaki's territory, for it was she who began ordering everyone around her and in a matter of minutes, all gear that had been stacked out of the way, a long stone bench had been conjured on which was placed a superb bowl made of gold and silver, a wickedly sharp, clearly ancient, dagger of black stone set in a leather sheath, and all the blood-filled needles. Next to the bowl was a stone pensieve with a copper lid and a range of odd looking tools that Harry had never seen before.
All the goblins but two moved to the area where all the equipment had been placed and one of their number created a magical barrier between them and the rest of the party. Aksaki, Ragnok and the two remaining goblins joined Harry and his friends.
"Harry, may I introduce Runespitter and Bloodink, who are both Shamans in their own right, but more importantly for you, they are magical tattooists." Aksaki said. "We goblins have long had a history of decorating our bodies with magical symbols and these two are the masters of that skill. With your permission, they will perform the necessary markings to secure your magical adoption into the House of Black."
Harry nodded politely to the two goblins who returned the gesture before he turned back to Remus, an expression of confusion on his face. "Tattoos?" he queried. "You actually want me to get tattoos?" He grinned. "I must go and show them to Aunt Petunia."
Remus snorted. "Yes, Petunia would love them, I'm sure," he agreed. "Normally Harry, a blood adoption involves only three drops of blood from the adopter that is incorporated into a tiny amount of magical ink, which is used to mark the adoptee with the House crest of the family into which they are being adopted. This mark is normally placed just over the heart on the left hand side of the chest. In your case, because of the modified ritual that Sirius wanted, that incorporates magic designed by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, it's going to be a little more complicated."
He gestured towards the table. "As you can see, there is a much larger volume of blood and this means there will be an equally greater volume of ink. The ritual requires that all the blood and ink be used so we have no option but to tattoo you more extensively than just the crest of the House of Black. Some of the blood will be used to create bands of runes, and other magical sigils, all of which will help you in terms of strength, knowledge, healing and magic, while the rest will have to be used in images that have a deep significance for you. What images would you like? And please remember they must be significant to you. No skulls or dripping daggers, no 'I Love Molly Weasley'" Almost all the entire group made gagging noises, and Remus grinned wolfishly. "So what's it to be, cub? And think big, there's going to be lots of ink."
Harry was just about to say something when a burst of trilling phoenix song filled the chamber and a fireball erupted in midair that resolved into Fawkes, who was clutching onto Hedwig with one foot and Crookshanks with the other. He released them with Crooks landing sure-footedly before running to his mistress, who scooped him up and cooed over him, while Hedwig immediately flew to Harry, broadcasting with great smugness that she had found him.
Meanwhile, Fawkes circled the room singing a most beautiful melody that uplifted the hearts of all who heard it. Then he flew to the table and to everyone's amazement, cried seven tears into the golden bowl then pecked his own breast until blood ran and dripped seven drops on top of the tears. The small wound he made on himself healed immediately and he then flew to perch on Shack's broad shoulder so that he could look at Harry with eyes that were far to wise for a mere bird.
Aksaki snapped her sagging mouth shut, and managed to control her shock before turning to Harry. "Never in my 167 years as a Shamaness have I ever seen a phoenix gift it's blood to anyone. That such a magical ingredient has been added, I believe ensures the success of this undertaking. Who are you, Harry Potter, that a phoenix would choose to bleed for you?" She shook her head in wonder.
Harry stared at her gobsmacked, then looked at the phoenix. "I don't know what to say Fawkes, but thank you." He turned back to the goblins and smiled. "I've decided what I want," he said. "My father was a stag Animagus, so I would like an image of a stag, nd for my mother, a doe. I also want a werewolf for Moony, and in honor of my soon-to-be-father, a black grim-like dog."
He glanced at Fawkes again, then back at the goblins. "Since it seems I am blessed by a phoenix, I would also like an image of one, maybe on my back, and somewhere I would like an image of Hedwig." He glanced around at his friends and loved ones. "Anyone else got any ideas?"
"You should have the Potter crest," Hermione suggested, and Harry nodded in agreement, then noticed Dobby bouncing from foot to foot.
"What do you think Dobby? What should I add to my tattoos?"
The house elf was clearly startled by his masters question, but when Harry crouched down in front of him, he answered. "I is thinking you should have the nasty big snake, Master Harry Potter Sir. You was only twelve when you killed it. I is thinking that is a most important time when you had to change from little wizard to warrior."
Harry nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face, before standing up and turning to the goblins to explain. "When I was twelve, I had to kill a sixty foot long, thousand year old basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets under Hogwarts, using the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Dobby's right, that was a turning point for me."
The two goblins glanced at each other then Runespitter bowed to Harry. "My brother and I would be honored to record such an event, for that was indeed the act of a warrior."
Bloodink spoke up. "There will be enough material for one more image, what would you choose for that?"
Harry glanced back at his family, who all looked at each other, then literally spoke as one. "The Hungarian Horntail," they all chorused, then burst out laughing. Harry explained to the two goblins the significance of that particular breed of dragon, and they agreed that would make a fine final image.
With that, the two tattooists headed for the table, obviously to prepare themselves. Ragnok took charge of all Harry's companions, spreading them out evenly around the circle inlaid in the floor, while Aksaki took Harry over towards the far wall. Harry could smell the faintest hint of sulfur in the air, and saw there was a bath-sized cleft in the cavern floor which contained bubbling water.
"This," Aksaki said, pointing, "is a natural mineral spring. Please undress and immerse yourself completely in the water. It is hot, but not painfully so, but do be prepared as it will remove all hair on your body so the tattooists can have access to all of your skin." Harry looked at her a trifle cock-eyed, but managed to overcome his embarrassment and nerves and did as she asked.
The sensation of all his hair dissolving in the water was completely bizarre and Harry had to resist the urge to frantically scratch himself all over. He then had the dubious pleasure of walking stark naked, in fact more naked than since he was born, back to the circle and his family and loved ones - sadly none of whom could resist the urge to snicker, point and laugh.
"So glad I amuse you all," he commented snarkily, "Do you mind?"
"Oh we don't mind at all," Fred said.
"Wow, Harry," Neville added, "you've got such a cute head when it's bald."
Tonks snickered. "And not just the head on your shoulders either." This of course, made everyone laugh again.
Aksaki directed Harry to stand in the center of the circle and she moved to fill the last empty spot on the circumference, directly opposite Ragnok.
Over at the table, Runespitter lifted up the golden bowl and intoned a long incantation in High Gobbledygook, gesturing with the bowl in the four cardinal directions before turning to his brother. Together, the two Shaman sang for several minutes, their oddly melodic voices echoing strangely, as if they were much further away than they actually were.
Runespitter then swapped to English, naming each of those who had donated blood, as, in turn, Bloodink added the contents of each crystal needle to the bowl, starting with Sirius' own.
"Behold the gift of Lord Sirius Orion Black, Godfather, Canine Animagus and hereditary Grim-lord, who, through this blood, will adopt Harry James Potter as his son and heir, according to Blood, Law and Magic." The goblin intoned, as his brother tipped the contents of the needle into the bowl.
Bloodink raised the next needle and Runespitter said, "the gift of Rubeus Hagrid, first magical friend, half giant and Master of Beasts, both Magical and mundane." Bloodink added it, then raised the next.
"The gift of Minerva McGonagall, Cat Animagus, Mentor and Teacher."
"The gift of Firenze, Centaur sage, warrior and Master of Earth."
"The gift of Remus Lupin, Guardian, Mentor, Teacher, Warrior, Liegeman, Pack-mate and Werewolf."
"The gift of Luna Lovegood, unawakened Seer, beloved and Bonded Mate and Liegeman."
"The gift of Nymphadora Tonks, Metamorphmagus, beloved and Bonded Mate and Liegeman."
"The gifts of Fredric and George Weasley, beloved and Bonded Mates, Twins, Telepaths and Liegemen."
"The gift of Squidly, sentient cephalopod, Guardian of Hogwarts, Master of Water."
"The gift of Charles Weasley, Dragon Friend, Master of Magical Beasts, Liegeman."
"The gift of Norbert, Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon, representative of the Dragon Council, Master of Air."
"The gift of Dobby, House Elf, Symbiont and Liegeman."
"The gift of Ragnok, Chief of the Goblin Nation, Chief of Clan Chiefs, Director of Gringott's".
"The gifts of Fawkes the Phoenix, Master of Fire and of Healing."
As Bloodink finished adding the blood, Runespitter again spoke in High Gobbledygook, before returning to English. "Let these gifts of the essence of life be blessed by the Highest Powers and by Magic Herself, and may they bless Harry James Potter and seal him into the Ancient and Noble House of Black."
With that, Bloodink withdrew a flask from within his robes and poured the contents into the bowl with the blood, then picked up the strange pieces of equipment and the knife, and he and his brother advanced towards Harry.
Runespitter held out the bowl and Harry could see it was one third full of the strangest looking liquid. Black and red swirled together and it was full of sparkling motes of different colored light and the air above the bowl shimmered with magic.
"To bind this to your use, you must add your blood," Bloodink explained, and Harry nodded, holding out his arm. Using the stone blade, Bloodink cut a symbol into the soft flesh of Harry's forearm and allowed twenty two drops of blood to fall into the bowl, the contents of which began to pulse with gold and silver light. He then laid the flat of the blade against the wound and a flash of heat sealed it closed, making Harry hiss with the sharp pain.
Bloodink then handed his brother one of the odd devices while he took the other. They plunged them into the bowl, and Harry watched as they absorbed all the blood and ink mixture.
Runespitter then handed the bowl to Aksaki with a bow and turned back to the young wizard. "Please extend your arms," he said, "and prepare yourself, there will be some discomfort."
Harry nodded and gritted his teeth, as the two brothers went to work, the strange devices proving to be tattooing tools...
Harry trembled, the memory of pain still close and cloying. At first, it had just been a warmth in his skin, a prickling itch, as the brother Shamans moved faster and faster around him until they were very nearly blurred. The actual placing of the tattoos across his chest and belly, back, thighs, buttocks, down his arms and even one that snaked up and around his bald head didn't hurt so much as irritate.
It was as they finished that the pain truly had begun.
Harry moaned and thrashed, the memory of that blazing agony still too real and too close. The Cruciatus curse only tortured the nervous system, which was bad enough, but as the Shamans had finished the tattooing and cried out something together in High Gobbledygook, all the images they had placed on his body flared into brilliant life and it was as if he was torn apart with knives of unbearable pain.
Every system in his body had been agonizingly ruptured and ripped apart - his joints, his bones, his flesh, his nerves and blood vessels, each and every system had been savagely deconstructed, stretched, enlarged and rebuilt. It was like Cruciatus upon Cruciatus upon Cruciatus.
Harry had shrieked until his throat was full of blood and he could no longer make a sound. Never again would the word 'Crucio' fill him with any fear, for he had survived something so beyond that, there was little comparison.
He had been certain he would go insane from the pain, but it was then he'd felt the touch of two minds on his, and suddenly the reason Fawkes and the other magical animals had come made sense, for it was Fawkes and his own Hedwig who'd anchored him, who'd kept him sane, who'd kept back the gibbering horror of madness and allowed him to cling to their warmth and love as the agony racked his body. Without them, Harry knew in that moment, he would have died….
He was floating, the pain still thrumming in every nerve and sinew, in his bones and in his blood. All around him was a pulsating white nothingness that slowly resolved into a meadow surrounded by virgin forest, with vistas of far mountains, while some twenty yards ahead of him, a river cut through the lush grass and nodding wild flowers. The air was crisp and clean, the sun warm against his skin - it was perhaps the most beautiful place he had ever seen.
As he looked around he was shocked to see two people coming towards him on the far side of the river, two people he had not seen since their shadowy, smoky images had come from Voldemort's wand in a graveyard in Little Hangleton two years earlier.
There, stepping down into the water, were James and Lily Potter.
With a great cry that was an equal blend of joy and sorrow, Harry raced to meet them, the three of them coming together in the center of the river, all of them weeping and babbling and hugging. There was his father, hazel-eyed, running his fingers through his black, untidy hair in a characteristic gesture Harry knew from watching James do it over and over in some of the photos he had, grinning down at him. And his mum, her fiery hair lifting in the breeze, tears in her emerald eyes, the source of his own, her smile just for him.
"Is this real?" Harry breathed. "Am I dead?"
Lily cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "You can be either sweetie. Whichever you choose," she said. "If you decide to come with us, you will die, or if you choose to go back, you will live."
"We're here to help you either way, son," James added, hugging both of them.
"Mum, Dad, why am I here? What's happening?"
His parents shared a look then James sighed. "Sirius' intentions and planning were good," he said, "but what he didn't realize was that the adoption ritual would destroy the blocks on your magic, but in an uncontrolled manner."
Lily nodded. "The combination of your magic plus the magic in the blood plus the magic of the ceremony itself was too much for you, and it's forced your spirit from your body. We are at the border of life and death, this is where, as the goblins say, you can 'Cross The River'. But it's not truly your time, sweetie."
Harry nodded. "If this had happened three months ago, I doubt I would have hesitated to go with you. But Mum, Dad, I have to go back."
His parents nodded and hugged him. "We know," James whispered. "We would expect nothing less from you. We know Moony is looking out for you and your mum and I are immensely pleased with the choices you made in your Bonded. We also know you have to go back to finish what was started with Voldemort."
"We have much to tell you, and little time," Lily added. "But first..." She reached out and touched the scar on Harry's forehead, James placing his hand over hers. Harry felt a sharp dragging pain and then with an almost audible 'pop', his parents pulled something from within his scar...and as one, turned and hurled it to the far bank of the river.
What landed there was eerily reminiscent of the mutant baby Harry had seen Voldemort to be before his resurrection in the graveyard. It lay in the grass shrieking and whimpering before slowly dissolving into green smoke that vanished on the breeze. His father looked at Harry, his face incredibly serious.
"That, son, was a piece of Voldemort's soul. When the curse rebounded on him, it accidentally allowed that thing to lodge itself in the wound. It's called a Horcrux. Voldemort has created a number of these, as soul anchors. As long as there is one in the world, he cannot be killed. He can be cast out into the form he had after our deaths, but he cannot be destroyed."
"To truly destroy him," Lily added, "you must find his Horcruxes and destroy them first."
Harry stared at his parents, horrified and despondent. But then something occurred to him. "The diary!" he exclaimed. "The diary was one of the Horcruxes, wasn't it?"
His parents nodded and smiled. "Indeed," James said. "and there are now five left. Once they are gone, Voldemort will be merely Tom Marvolo Riddle, a mortal wizard, and you will be able to kill him."
"Before you even ask," Lily interjected as Harry's eyes lit up and he began to speak, "we can't tell you what or where the other Horcruxes are. There is a...well, a 'balance' I guess you could call it, between Light and Shadow, Good and Evil and so on. This was skewed a little in your favor, so your father and I had to choose the most important thing you needed to know. There are many others, but other methods of informing you will be found. We can't tell you more, as that would cause too great an imbalance, and we are not permitted to do that. We can, however, give you a gift. Both your father and I were powerful in magic, and the circumstances of our deaths were so unjust we could have returned as ghosts, but rather, we chose to keep what was left of our magical cores intact to give them to you now."
James nodded. "As I said, Sirius' heart was in the right place, he just didn't know about your blocks. The ritual has, for all intents and purposes, killed you. There is too much magic in you for your core to contain it. However, your mother and I can give you what is left of our cores, which should just about double your capacity and will insure that, on your return, you will survive. However," and he paused here for a moment to glance at his wife before turning back to his son, "there is a price to pay."
Harry studied their faces for a long moment. "Okay. What is it."
Lily took one of his hands in hers. "It means my love, that your father and I will have to fully pass over, meaning there will be no more times like this, or like how we came to your aid in the graveyard, you will only see us again when it is truly your time to join us."
His Father smiled at him and tousled his hair, which in this place, seemed to have grown back. "Remember how you saw us in the Mirror of Erised?" He asked, and Harry nodded. "Well," James continued, "were you to look in it now, you wouldn't see us, but rather yourself and your Bonded either at your wedding or at the birth of your children, for those will be the deepest abiding wishes of your heart. Your mother and I will be where we should be, in the past, in your memories and in your heart...but not as a present day obsession."
Lily nodded in agreement with her husband. "We love you more than we can put into words Harry," she said, "but it's time for you to move on with your life. While we won't be as close to you as we have been, we'll always watch over you and love you."
"I know," Harry said somberly, then smiled. "I have a Mum and Dad who love me." And he hugged them both fiercely. As he did so, he felt a tingling wave of magic wash over him from each of him, and then they released each other.
"There are two other things we can, and must tell you," James said, "and they will be useful, so don't squander the information, okay?"
Harry nodded. "I'll be careful."
James nodded. "Remember, Wormtail owes you a Life Debt. When he acted against you in the graveyard, he was very nearly forsworn. He feels the weight of it, the drag on his soul and magic, and it frightens him. He knows, sooner or later, he will have to pay you back or die."
"You must choose the right time, and the right demand," Lily added. ""Don't be frivolous, or cruel or act out of simplistic revenge."
"There are others who owe you similar debts – Ginevra Weasley, and, as she was a minor child at the time, by extension her parents, and Arthur Weasley also owes you a personal one...but the one I really want to talk about is Severus Snape's."
"I hate him!" Harry snarled.
"And we understand why, sweetie," Lily assured him. "His is a complicated situation. He was once, a long time ago, my friend. It was around his fourth year at Hogwarts that he began to turn genuinely Dark. Before that he wasn't particularly likable, but he wasn't actually evil."
"The Marauders' bullying of him contributed to his choice to follow Malfoy senior," James added. "Mind you, he was as big a bully as we were, of many other, younger students, which we didn't do. Still, we weren't blameless, not by a long shot."
"He told Voldemort the Prophesy," Harry said hotly. "It was him who caused your deaths! Why didn't his Life Debt to you, Dad, kill him then?"
"Because he didn't specifically send Voldemort to kill us. Snake Face could've chosen to go to the Longbottoms, but chose us of his own free will. Though Snape must've just about soiled himself when Tommie-boy did go off to kill us!"
"The point to all this," Lily interjected, "is that he still owes you the Debt, and has severely compounded it by his treatment of you, especially those 'Occlumency lessons' he hurt you with."
"Again, tempting though it is to humiliate, injure or even kill him with it – don't act rashly, Harry!" James added. "I'd love to see him in Hell, but you might need him one day. Keep that in mind, okay?"
Harry's expression was decidedly mutinous, but he nodded. "Yeah, you're both right. I'll make sure to discuss it with everyone before I do anything. I promise."
Lily hugged him. "That's all we ask, honey." She paused, and Harry looked up at her, shocked to see her crying...and more shocked to see her becoming opaque, like a ghost.
"MUM!"
She shook her head. "Our time is up, sweetie, we have to go. We love you...so, so much! Never forget that!"
"MUM! DAD! NO! Please, don't go!" Harry cried desperately. "I'm not ready! I need more time!"
"There isn't any, son. We've done what we were sent to do." James' voice seemed to echo from far away, his form wavering, as he and Lily drifted away from Harry's empty, grasping hands.
"You might want to go and stop your friend from making an irrevocable mistake" Lily added, pointing upriver.
Harry turned his head to see Ragnok approaching the river's edge and started towards him, before turning back to his now almost invisible parents, tears streaking his face. "Why didn't Sirius come to say goodbye?" He shouted...and as faint as a sigh, his father's voice floated back to him for the last time.
"Why would he? He's not here..."
Harry stood in the rushing water, tears still streaming down his face, but the terrible wound to his heart that had been their loss was healed. He retreated back to his side of the river, completely befuddled. Sirius wasn't there? Was there some other place he'd go when he was dead? Or… was he actually dead at all?
Hearing splashing sounds from upriver, Harry ruthlessly squashed down his thoughts about his Godfather, or, more accurately, his new father, and instead ran along the river bank to reach Ragnok just before he crossed the halfway point of the river…
With a final upward lunge, and a mad mental scrabble, Harry finally broke free of unconsciousness and surged back into the here and now.
He bitterly regretted doing so almost immediately.
The pain was ghastly. His whole body felt completely bizarre as if he had put on clothes made for someone else. Nothing seemed to fit. Everything hurt. He groaned as he tried to lift his head to look around the chamber.
The sight that met his eyes literally drove the thoughts of pain, memories of his parents and questions about Sirius right out of his head. Bodies lay everywhere. Blood was splashed across the white sands and the golden ceremonial ring had melted into rivulets of cooling metal.
"No," Harry whispered. "No. Not again."
Directly ahead of him, some thirty feet away lay Ragnok. It appeared he had been flung brutally against the stone table, and he lay on the ground like a broken doll. With immense effort, Harry dragged himself towards the downed goblin, his memory of him trying to Cross The River clear in his mind. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Ragnok was close to dying.
The journey across that thirty yards seemed to take forever, and many times Harry was unsure if he would actually make it, but at last, panting with pain, he lay beside the goblin.
Up close, Ragnok's injuries were devastating. Several ribs had pierced outward through his clothes, a huge spike of bone protruded from just below his right hip, and the entire right hand side of his skull had been crushed.
Harry was frantic, he didn't know what to do! He began to weep for his friend and his own helplessness, then noticed the tears falling from his eyes were pearly white, like a phoenix's.
Could it be?
Without another thought, he smeared his fingers over his wet face and stroked them over some of the lacerations on Ragnok's face, watching in amazement as the wounds healed.
In spite of his pain, a sense of triumph filled his heart, and with great care, he allowed his tears to fall on the terrible wounds on Ragnok's side, watching in amazement as the ribs retracted into place and the skin healed over them. He then moved to the compound-fractured thigh and allowed his tears to fall there. Again, he was amazed as the ugly broken bone pulled back into place with an audible click, the ravaged tissues knitting seamlessly without a scar.
Harry shuffled himself around until he could carefully lift Ragnok's seriously damaged head, and he paused there for a moment, considering what to do next.
If his tears were magical and capable of such acts of healing, should he not be capable of them? Why should only the fluids from his eyes have such magical abilities? With that in mind, Harry carefully laid his right hand over the deep depression in Ragnok's skull, and looked within himself for the source of the healing energy.
It was as if he found Phoenix song within himself, and abruptly realized that Fawkes' gift had had far more significance than anyone had realized. The phoenix's freely given tears had helped keep Harry's body alive while his spirit had communed with his parents, so that he could be gifted with their magical cores, the only way he could survive long term. But the phoenix's blood had, in fact, made him part phoenix, and he could feel within himself, within his expanded magical core, a golden shimmering place that held the healing powers of the phoenix.
He reached into this and pulled it up from within himself, along his arms and his into his hands, which flashed gold and radiated a burning heat. With great care, he directed the warmth and light to soak into the goblin's damaged skull, into the torn membranes, broken blood vessels and seriously crushed brain beneath, and began to smooth away those imperfections, balancing the blood and fluids, healing the torn arteries, smoothing shut the protective membranes and lastly, pushing back out into place and healing the bones of his skull.
He then moved his glowing hands to Ragnok's chest and willed him to awaken.
It was if he struck the goblin with a bolt of electricity. Ragnok jerked and his body bowed, then he took a massive breath and practically shrieked as he shot upright, his eyes opening to stare at Harry in total amazement. The exhausted teen managed to only smile at him, then collapsed face-first on the sand, unmoving.
-]- - -
Ragnok had been drifting in darkness. He had the vaguest memory of some beautiful meadow and the oddest sense that he had been at the point of death, but had been turned away. Not in anger, but for a purpose.
Now he felt both the most amazing sensation of love, compassion and warmth and pain, terrible pain, in his chest and leg, and an echo of emptiness in his head he instinctively knew was genuinely life threatening, more so than the areas that hurt.
He felt the warmth seeping into his chest and the truly bizarre sensation of his ribs moving and crunching back together, then the warmth moved to his hip and thigh, which were a raging maelstrom of pain and agony. He then experienced the exceptionally unpleasant feeling of his own bones grinding and shifting inside his flesh, which ran like hot wax to cover and heal the defect.
The warmth then shifted to his head, and it was as if Ragnok was floating outside his body, watching as the most beautiful being he had ever seen healed his shattered skull.
There was, he knew, a human word for such beings. Avatars? No. That wasn't quite right. He searched his mind for several moments then… ah! Angels! That was the word. He was being healed by an Angel!
From his peculiar perspective, external to his own body, he saw what appeared to be a man, yet was far too beautiful to be human. He was incredibly tall, with knee-length silken tresses of inky black, shot through with sparkling threads of crimson, gold and silver. His face was of such perfection it would make poets weep, with huge eyes, slit-pupilled like a dragon's, triple-ringed irises - liquid emerald around the pupil, then a band of stormy gray and finally a circle of pure molten gold.
The Angel had pointed ears, not unlike Ragnok's own, although more refined, skin in a most unusual shade of dusky gold, rather like a Centaur's, and when the Angel smiled, he saw a true predator's fangs, shaped like a dragon's teeth, yet in size as delicate and dainty as a cat's.
The huge hands that cradled his head so gently, and that pulsed with the golden healing light and heat, were tipped with claws to make any goblin or dragon proud, yet never once did they pierce his flesh, but it wasn't any of these things that let him know this being was not human.
It was his wings.
Curved in a huge double-bow behind the Angel's head, their feathered tips brushing the ground to either side of him as he half-lay, half crouched beside Ragnok's body, they were seemingly made of fire, and as the Angel finished healing him, he spread his wings a trifle, and they trembled, as if he were exhausted.
Their beauty was breath-taking, and it seemed to Ragnok that they did indeed flame, as magic danced among pinions that glowed with all the colors of forge and hearth. It was the most beautiful sight Ragnok had ever seen.
It was at that moment the Angel lay his hands upon Ragnok's chest and a rippling bolt of magic energy jolted the goblin so fiercely it forced his soul back into his body, and with a shrieking gasp, he sat bolt upright and turned to look at his Saviour.
Abruptly, he realized that this being, this creature of light and fire, was none other than Harry James Potter-Black, who smiled at him...and collapsed...
-}- - -
A/N: Well, that was touching! Pass the tissues and keep yourself together, review, and we will see y'all soon.
