Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
West of Here
Chapter Eleven: Not my first rodeo
"Do you trust me?"
Harry quirked a suspicious grimace before asking in return, "Are you asking me as a person or as a healer?"
Poppy Pomfrey cocked an eyebrow at that, but answered accordingly. "As a healer in this particular instance."
Harry tipped back his hat and leaned back in his chair to put some distance between himself and the vial Poppy Pomfrey held in one hand and the wand she brandished in the other.
"The last time our resident tooth-yanker asked me that, he was shoving a pair of pliers in my mouth. I asked him about some sedation and I got just what I asked for, only he used a hammer to make me a more pliable, albeit, less aware patient."
"Is that a no, then?"
"Yes" Harry quipped.
"Yes, you trust me?" Pomfrey tried to clarify.
"No is a yes," Harry fired back.
"So yes means no?" Pomfrey asked, becoming more puzzled.
"I'm confused," Katie added in a show of solidarity.
"Me too."
"Same here."
Others around the room were nodding their heads as they grumbled their agreement. The fact that they were all witches and were concerned about his welfare was more the reason that he was feeling less than trusting at present.
"Oh, honestly, just drink the potion already," Hermione prompted impatiently. "It's purely a precautionary measure that will grant you and the rest of us peace of mind."
"You trust it?" Harry thumbed toward the smoking concoction that Pomfrey was urging in his direction.
"Well, of course I do." Hermione chaffed in a positive show of support.
"You drink it then," Harry insisted.
"Wha... I can't. It's a potion for males," Hermione balked, which raised Harry's suspicions to a new and higher level.
"Male enhancement potion?" he ventured hopefully.
"Not per se," Pomfrey haltingly disagreed, shifting her eyes uncertainly toward Hermione before shifting her gaze back to Harry and smiling encouragingly.
Harry pursed his lips, considering that answer; that and he was instantly wary of their suspicious glances toward one another.
"What's it do again?" he asked.
"It's a preventative potion that will avoid untoward effects; sort of like an inoculation," Pomfrey reiterated vaguely.
"What sorta 'untoward effects' are we talking about here?" he drew quotation marks in the air for emphasis.
"We're just concerned that you may spread a serious and lifetime affliction among others who you may come into close contact with," Pomfrey reassured in the same vague fashion.
"It's not like I let Voldie bite me or nothing. I aint got rabies, nor the mange last time I checked," he reassured the room in general.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Will you drink the potion already so that the rest of us can be safe?" she demanded, tapping her foot expectantly.
Harry sighed in resignation and begrudgingly accepted the proffered vial. He brought it up to his nose and took an experimental sniff.
"Whew… what's in this? Sulfur and brimstone?" he pulled a face of disgust, holding the vial at arm's length.
Hermione chuckled at that.
"What's so funny?" he asked guardedly.
"Just your reference to the old testament; I find it strangely ironic."
"Come on, Harry, please?" Katie begged, making cow eyes at him. "You don't want the rest of us to come down with anything life altering do you?"
"Ah... I guess not…" Harry reluctantly agreed before tossing back the potion.
"Thank God," Katie sighed in relief. "I thought we'd never get that prophylactic potion down him."
"Phewww, gaaaa!" Harry spit out the remnants of the potion that he'd managed to hold in his cheeks, not trusting their intentions, and now he knew it was for good reason. He continued spitting and gagging trying to get out every last nuance of the offending potion.
"I've been poisoned! Oh Lordy... I can feel my parts shriveling up already. I'm as parched as a puddle after a cattle crossing. You'll pay for this, you will. I hereby arrest the lot of ya for purloining potential Potters!" he threatened as he went for his guns.
The witches present shrieked in alarm and scattered, trampling over one another as they fought to be the first through the room's exits.
As the last woman's skirt disappeared from view, with one of his many promised vengeances hurled at the group's expense, Harry broke down in side splitting laughter. He'd known from the onset what they were about, not that he let on as it was just too good an opportunity to take the piss on the lot of 'em.
He marveled at how quickly they'd arranged for this little intervention as, undoubtedly, Molly had already warned the group over his amorous intentions only an hour or so after their breakfast earlier in the day.
His amusement done for the moment, Harry went to collect some backup before he made an overdue visit at which he knew his presence would be less than welcome.
An hour later, having clued in his fellows as to his plan, Remus asked in worried skepticism. "You're not serious?"
"Deadly serious," he returned coolly, patting the handles of his colts for emphasis.
The Weasley twins whistled under their breath.
"They'll kill you on sight," Ron warned.
Harry smirked in the way that clearly portended he would appreciate the challenge.
"You're sure?" Remus reluctantly added, his tone indicated that he was already resigning himself to the fact.
"Sure, why not?" Harry answered, clearly less concerned than his friends over his intentions.
"Well alright then," Ron agreed bracingly, before adding the suggestion… "I think were gonna need more than just the four of us though?"
"Four will do," Harry reassured confidently. "You just watch my back and follow my lead; I'll take care of the rest."
Remus rolled his eyes at that, but nodded his agreement.
Casting a speculative eye over the four, Harry sighed in resignation. "I suppose I better make it official?" That said, he took off his own badge and held it in his hand. He mumbled a few words in Locuta and tapped the back of his right hand with his left forefinger; a silver glow erupted from between his fingers and when Harry opened his hand he held four gleaming silver copies of his own golden badge. He had each swear on their magic to uphold the law under his direct supervision. That done and four newly appointed Guardian-Deputies stood proudly awaiting his orders.
Harry provided his four friends with a portkey, but had timed it to activate two minutes after he left as he didn't want them walking unprepared into a firestorm which he was fairly certain would be the initial reaction to his unwanted arrival at Gringott's. He had business with the little malcontents and he intended to see it done, one way or another.
Remus had eyed him suspiciously when he informed them that he was traveling ahead to scout the area out, but otherwise made no protest. He'd spent enough time in the company of 'Marshall Black' to realize that he had plans within plans and despite there usually being an element of risk, Marshall Black knew what he was about.
The others used their time while waiting for the port key to activate, by checking that their wands were readily to hand and their armor, that Harry had provided, was properly fastened in place.
Each appreciatively ran their hands over the gleaming basilisk hide that was as comfortable and attractive as it was impervious to most spells, possibly even unforgiveables, though no one was eager to test that assumption. Harry had offered, of course, but only the twins seemed touched by the gesture.
The portkey activated and moments later the four arrived at the white marble entrance of Gringott's Bank; the sounds of pandemonium echoed inside and people were screaming and fleeing for their very lives.
They were nearly trampled by a bevy of frightened witches and wizards that were fleeing in an all-out panic.
"You back stabbing, greedy little underhanded sons-a-bitches!" Harry hollered out, spitting furiously as his gun reports heralded screams and frightened cries of dismay from within the bowels of the bank.
BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM…..
The bank itself was its usual imposing edifice; however the steps were currently littered with a pair of Death Eaters whose attire appeared to have a few extra button holes than what was normal. The holes were dribbling out the last of their life's blood.
A pair of large armored goblins were scattered behind the Death Eaters, stationed at the top of the stairs. Apparently they had fared little better in barring the entrance from unwanted intrusion as they each sported a large goose egg on their temple area, their swords still sheathed and one's pickaxe lay broken while the other's was imbedded a half a foot deep in the otherwise unmarred marble that had stood spotless for an age.
If the reception they received wasn't enough, they could hear Harry whooping and hollering from within the bank, just beyond the broken front doors that looked, judging by the way they were torn from their hinges, as if a giant had kicked them in.
"Whatsamatter? Gold not seem so Goddamned important all of sudden or is lead more of an immediate concern?"
BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-click….
The others hit the doorway in flanking positions, their wand tips glowing and with ready spells on the tips of their tongues.
"Ain't it always the way…?" Harry grumbled dejectedly as he grimaced down at his spent colt. "I was just starting to get up a good head a steam too," he lamented dejectedly.
The others stood gaping at the ruined doorways as bits of parchment rained down like confetti, and what goblins still breathing were cowering under their trembling desks.
Snict-Snict-Snict…
Dread silence fell over the bank as Harry methodically reloaded his pistols, eyeing the bank's interior with a look that clearly dared the goblins to rethink any possibility of attacking his person.
"Now listen up you buncha turds cause I'm gonna say this just one more time. I am Guardian Harry James Potter and I hereby serve notice that this institution and all who work within are to cease and desist all operations to the terrorist organization run by one self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort and his known confederates, commonly referred to as Death Eaters. Said terrorists are currently under investigation of charges of treason to the British Magical Realm along with a multitude of other notable heinous acts of murder, rape, assault and theft. Any breech of adherence to this command will be punished with extreme prejudice and I do mean that I will come back here and kill every last mother and son of your villainous hides!"
"Futhermore … hey?!" Harry barked out in alarm as the green light of a killing curse streaked past his right shoulder, himself barely ducking out of the way in the nick of time.
He brought his guns to bear on the offending party, but held back from firing as four green lighted killing curses hit the attacking goblin before he could take a single step in flight.
Harry tipped his hat to his comrades in gratitude for their timely intervention. "Much obliged fellas." He was relieved to see that the twin were as up to speed as Remus and Ron were, in taking the fight to the enemy in any and every way that included lethality.
That done, he turned his molten gaze on the interior of the bank and vented his fury: "Apparently I am not making myself clear? Either that or you cretins just aren't house broken? Get your leader out here so I can explain things to him and then he can dumb it down to the rest of you accordingly," Harry demanded.
No one risked venturing out from beneath the precarious safety of their antique desks, at which Harry impatiently huffed and called out to the room, "Somebody best take it upon themselves to get a move on or things are going to take a decided turn for the worse!" he suggested in voice that absolutely promised mayhem in the offing.
Fred and George glanced at each other, one twin mouthing a questioning, "Worse?" to the other who shook his head incredulously at that. Having witnessed the tail end of the one sided fight, each was of the opinion that their youngest brother was understating Marshall Jamie Black's abilities and each could plainly see the difference between their once childhood friend and the hard case ass-kicker that was "Marshall Black". He was using the title of Guardian just now in dealing with the terrified goblins, but there was no mistaking that this was, in fact, Marshal Black's show.
Click… The firing hammer of Harry's left hand colt was pulled back as the gun barrel swiveled ominously in the direction of several trembling wretches peeking out from behind the loan counter.
"Money lenders it is," Harry quoted scripture. His gun barrel bobbed hypnotically between them as he supposedly let fate decide…"Einee-Meanie….Minee…Moe…Catch a goblin by the toe…if he hollers…let him…go… Eineee,…Meanie…. Mineee…"
"Enough!" A deep voice boomed from the entrance to the bronze doors opposite the tunnel entrance that went to the lower vaults. This was the administrative section and there was no mistaking the finer cut of this goblin's suit as he made his presence known by demanding that Harry cease and desist.
"Bout time you showed up, Raynock .. is it?" Harry supposed, pushing up the brim of his Stetson with the barrel of his right hand colt.
"It is," the well-dressed goblin answered with an air of superiority that was unmistakable. "Though," he added unnecessarily… "I am head of Gringott's and the leader of the Goblin nation."
"Well goody for you," Harry goaded. "But from where I'm standing you ain't in charge of jack shit... and Jack skipped town."
The twins snorted appreciatively at that and Harry shot them a quick and cunning smirk of appreciation before fixing Raynock with a cold hard stare that clearly stated he was less than amused with Gringott's as a whole just now.
"What can our humble business do for the esteemed, er ... guardian?" He paused at that last, before mentioning Harry's title in a sarcastic undertone that was clearly meant to demean.
Harry smiled a cold grin of calculation as he suggested, "We can air our dirty laundry out here for all to hear or we can use your office if you would find that venue more in keeping with your comfort zone?"
Instantly assuming he was being afforded home field advantage the goblin leader immediately seized on the opportunity and guided his, er, guests, into the interior of the bank.
The hallways were had rich oak walls and gleaming black marble floors with each doorway barred by heavily armed goblin warriors sporting all manner of cruelly sharp blades, axes, pikes and so on. Harry walked past them with an air of complete indifference. His deputies following behind were far less calm however, as they nervously fingered their wands or already had them held tightly in sweating fists.
One of the goblin warrior's more eager fools stepped menacingly into Harry path, his clawed fingers deftly going to his sword hilt. Harry drew his right colt with a speed that was starling, reversed his grip and slammed the butt of his grip across the goblin's temple sending the creature sprawling unconscious to the marble floor.
Before any of his fellows could so much as take a step in retaliation, Harry reversed his grip and poked his barrel into the base of Raynock's neck, the goblin leader went rigid at the implied threat.
"Anyone else feeling particularly stupid just now?" Harry warned the others.
"Stand down you fools!" The goblin leader demanded as the rest grumbled back into their previous positions, at guard.
The individual offices that the warriors guarded were appointed in an obvious caste system, each more ostentatious than the next, and of course\ more heavily guarded accordingly. There were oaken doors polished to a high luster, followed by bronze then silver, but only a single set of golden doors stood gleaming at the end of the hallway with an entire squad of goblins barring the way menacingly.
Harry rolled his eyes at the display that was clearly designed more for the goblin's sense of vanity than to humble customers as he highly doubted that any wizards had ever been allowed entry into the higher echelons of the bank. This was where the wealthy and powerful practiced their unique form of legal thievery.
A single wave of the goblin leader's hand had the over muscled and well-armed group fanning out away from the doors to allow the party's entry, albeit begrudgingly so. One overly large brute accidentally leaned into Harry, as he attempted to pass, knocking him roughly aside with a well-placed elbow to the ribs.
"How clumsy of me, terrible sorry…" the goblin grumbled in gobbledygook in a tone that clearly stated he was anything but sincere in his apology.
Raynock rounded on the perpetrator intent on delivering a dressing down, but was saved by the trouble as Harry returned in a polite tone of gobbledygook…
"Right back atcha."
WHUMPH
A sharp elbow to the brute's pointed ear sent him spinning into the wall, were he impacted with sufficient force to send him sprawling to the floor unconscious.
From their vantage point, the twins were of the opinion that the goblin was already unconscious from the strike before he even hit the wall, but that was neither here nor there, just a point of interest to enjoy a drink over while reminiscing later… if they weren't dead?
Interestingly enough, the rest of the goblins did not move against them, but rather eyed Harry with a new found measure of respect for the ease with which he'd dispatched one of their best warriors.
They entered the director's office and found it to be as plush inside as in keeping with its outer appearance.
"Might I offer you gentleman a drink before we proceed? I have several vintage bottles of Goblin ale as well as several other choice beverages available for your pleasure?" he intimated with a well-practiced, if not unctuous, ease.
Harry was pleased to see that none of his party, even Ron, did not immediately take up the director's offer; deferring to his lead.
"I only drink with friends," Harry returned in a note of forewarning.
"Same here."
"Likewise."
"We're fine thanks." That last from the twins as no one took the director up on his offer.
They weren't exactly here to socialize, after all.
The goblin leader's long ears wilted slightly at being turned down, but he recovered well by clapping his hands together expectantly and offering politely: "To business then. What can I and by proxy 'Gringotts' do for you gentlemen today?"
"You can answer a few questions." Harry immediately suggested.
"A long as they do not pertain to privileged information regarding account holders," he balked.
"Even if I said pretty please?" Harry prompted, fingering the grip of his colt suggestively.
The implied threat was evident to the goblin leader as his ears wilted in foreboding, but he made no further concessions other than to ask abruptly as he planted his seat behind his ornate desk. "State your business, sir?"
"My business is lives and the maintaining of such," Harry stated in a grim tone.
"And mine is gold and the making of more such," Raynock returned with equal fervor.
"And lives?" Harry pressed further, his meaning clearly understood.
"Wholly secondary at best," The goblin returned indifferently. "Gold to us is life, the making of more, a successful life. Financial dealings are our life blood. Nothing else matters."
Remus snorted sarcastically, the twins paling next to him by the cool detachment with which the director dismissed lives over livelihood.
"Of all the disgusting…!" Ron began to grumble, but a raised hand from Harry immediately silenced his outraged response.
"You sided with Voldemort and subsequently lives have been affected and undoubtedly lost."
"He offered us an opportunity for our fortunes to flow without any risk on our own part. As to the other; a regrettable circumstance, but hardly noteworthy in the greater scheme of things." The director dismissed with cool precision the lives and fortunes of the innocents lost in the war to date.
"You could have negotiated with our side, allowed us the opportunity to make a counter offer." Harry suggested.
"We could have, but choose not to. One was sure, the other a pale possibility at best. Besides, we do not renegotiate once a bargain is struck. Such dealings, while harsh, are best dealt with quickly and decisively."
"I'm relieved to hear you say that," Harry returned with something akin to anticipation. "I believe our business is nearly concluded. Could you please have a one of your subordinates retrieve the contents of vault 1287 for me?"
"Do you have the vault key on your person?" the director asked formally in a business like fashion.
Harry nodded and pulled the key from his pocket, sliding it across the desk to the waiting director.
The director passed a critical eye over the brass key, before brushing it aside disdainfully with the tip of one claw, not deigning to touch something so beneath his purview.
He pressed a button on his desk and one of the bank's tellers immediately scurried in, received his instructions and left to retrieve the contents of the vault.
"You may collect your gold at a teller window four on your way out, Mr. Potter," He intoned hollowly in dismissal.
"I'll wait here thanks," Harry suggested, amending…"I think you'll find the contents of said vault rather surprising, if not seriously effecting Gringott's as a whole." he intimated.
"Really sir, you surprise me," the director returned blandly. "While the Potters are a somewhat wealthy line; I can think of nothing that your vault could possibly contain that would warrant my immediate and undivided attention. Tellers are for dealing with mundane matters of common finance and exchange, not managing directors, let alone the chief operating director. In fact, nothing short of an economic collapse warrants my immediate…"
A rumbling beneath their feet halted the goblin's words before he could further his condescending attitude toward his eminently departing guests.
"What the…?" Ron questioned, sharing worriedly looks with the others behind Harry's back.
Harry tipped his Stetson up so that the goblin could readily see the triumphant smile on his face and the knowing gleam in his eye as the bank floors and walls began to groan around them.
"You mentioned economic collapse? That's an interesting, if not prophetic, choice of words, director. I believed you mentioned not renegotiating once a deal is struck? That being the case, I think you should be advised that your part in this war is at an end. I think you are about to find out that lives are far more important than gold as how can one possibly appreciate the latter if deprived of the former? But, I digress… such dealings, while harsh, are best dealt with quickly and decisively." Harry threw the goblins own words back in his face, which he was pleased to see had paled dramatically as the floor beneath their feet began to crack and groan as the rumblings beneath grew to deafening levels.
"What did you do?" The Director half pleaded, half demanded, as alarm clangors sounded throughout the bank.
"I did nothing other than to let you reap your just reward; treacherous greedy little pissants that you are. The contents of vault 1287 held the proverbial: thirty pieces of silver. It was good enough for Judas when he betrayed the son of God. Surely that's someone who would merit your attention."
The director goggled at his implication. "But… but silver couldn't... how can…?"
"Did I forget to mention the dozen cases of nitroglycerin packed into the vault which is strategically placed near one of the bank's few load bearing walls? I took it upon myself to make that generous deposit some hundred and ten years ago as a failsafe measure, should you choose the wrong side of this skirmish. Does it bear your immediate interest now, Director?" Harry snorted that last derisively.
He tipped his hat and turned to his fellows, suggesting they leave as their business was concluding rapidly beneath them.
Raynock started pressing the buttons of his desk in haste whilst screaming for his guards, but too late…
Harry had his friends join hands before he clamped on and spirit walked the small group out of there before the Goblin Warriors could so much as breach the doors to the director's office; not that those selfsame doors would stand for long as the bank was crumbling in on itself as one support after another failed and more and more weight pressed downward in a growing avalanche of earth, stone and gold… mixed with thirty pieces of silver.
Harry stumbled and fell to his knees on the Hogwarts lawn.
"What the hell was that?!" George shrieked in alarm, his twin clutching madly onto his younger brother for support. The two were shaking violently from the experience, having seen their fair share of wandering spirits during the brief venture.
"Jeesuuus, that hurt!" Harry grumbled from the strain of transporting so many, albeit briefly, through the boundary of the spirit world. He retched violently and slumped unconscious, face first into the frosty lawn.
The next morning…
"Harummmfff, huh…whazzit…?"Harry groggily came-to, just as Madam Pomfrey was looming over him preparing to dose him with one of her medicinal concoctions.
"Just a calming draught to help you rest, Mr. Potter." The mediwitch reassured him in her best dissociative professional tone.
"The hell you say?!" Harry barked in alarm, throwing back his covers, thinking to bolt from the infirmary.
"Oh my…!" and a few other gasps of surprise echoed from around the room as, a completely starkers, Harry Potter, quickly pulled the covers back in alarm at seeing his state of undress.
"Lord Almighty! Where's my clothes, woman?" he demanded.
"Now you just behave yourself, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey began to chastise her charge. "I won't have you disrupt my hospital with your antics. Your clothes are being laundered by the elves and will be returned once properly cleaned and mended. If you're good and take your potions, then there's no reason you can't leave in a day or two once you've fully recovered," She admonished, waggling a finger down at him as she pushed her steaming potion forward.
"You're not gelding me with some liquid scalpel designed to rot my parts off!" he barked, cringing back in terror as the hissing potion drew closer toward his mouth.
"Now, none of that Mr. Potter? It's only a mild sedative for heaven's sake." The nurse cajoled.
"Sedative?! So that's your game is it you old prude?"
Madam Pomfrey gasped indignantly as Harry railed on… "You're not giving me nuthin that'll numb my parts? Next thing you know I'll be spending all my time on the front porch drinking lemonade with some young filly's mom exchanging recipes rather than showing any interest in her daughter." Harry swatted at the proffered vial.
Harry pulled his covers up protectively, wild eyed and supposedly trembling as he scanned the hospital for the nearest avenue of escape.
"Harry really, Madam Pomfrey would never…" Katie Bell stepped forward, thinking to reassure the anxious man, when Harry seized the opportunity to cause more of a stir.
"Katie! Thank God you're here. Quick woman- take me... before this crazy spinster removes the Potter line from existence. He leapt out of bed and grabbed onto Katie like a life line.
"Harrreeee!" Katie shrieked at being confronted by the completely naked version of her affections in less than optimal circumstances.
Harry hid behind Katie, using her as a shield between himself and Madam Pomfrey.
"Keep away you!... Keep away I say," Harry warned, pulling Katie backwards along with him as he made for the infirmary exit.
As luck would have it, Hermione, Angelina and Alicia chose that moment to investigate.
"What's going on in here…Harrreee- Potterrrr?!" Hermione shrieked in a scandalized tone as her two companions catcalled obviously having enjoyed too much time with the twins.
"Lord no! I'm surrounded?" Harry's head twisted this way and that, his eyes wild and desperate.
"There's no hope…..!" he waxed poetically in resolve.
Crash…
"Ai-yeeee!" panicked, Harry had thrown himself through the infirmary window.
"Nooooo!" Katie wailed in horror as Harry supposedly plunged from sight.
The women flew to the window with shrieks of terror expecting to find his broken body on the lawn some many floors below.
"Where is he?" Hermione scanned the lawns worriedly.
SPLOOSH
"Eeeek!" The women leaning out the window shrieked as ice water splashed down on them.
"Haw-Haw-Haw!" A fully clothed and howling in laughter; Harry Potter chortled down from the parapet overhead as the women screamed their dismay.
"Serves ya right fer trying to take advantage of a poor, sick man who was wounded while trying to protect your ungrateful hides."
"Poor, sick man my arse!" Hermione howled, shaking her fist threateningly.
"Look at my robes, they're soaked!" Katie howled indignantly as she pulled at her sodden garb.
"I think they look just fine." Harry jeered down from overhead, clearly enjoying the way Katie's robes clung to her curves.
"Ohhh!" Katie gasped in alarm, while she tried to pull her robes away from her chest to preserve her dignity.
"Why I ought to…." Hermione threatened as she struggled to pull her wand out of her drenched robes.
"You ought'a stick to terrorizing school children or the next time it won't be ice water… it'll be a nice bucketful of warm piss!" Harry warned.
"Hell, that ain't a half bad idea…." Thinking in favor of the notion, he made a show of throwing away the empty bucket and his hands went to the zipper of his pants.
"Don't you dare!"
"OMIGOD!"
"Run for it!"
The ladies howled in fright as they beat a hasty retreat, each stumbling over the other as they fought to extradite themselves from the window to avoid their impending mortification.
"Haw-Haw-Haw!" Harry chortled gleefully.
Harry was pretty much alone for lunch that day as the witches in the castle were keeping a wide berth and the gentlemen of the previous day's adventure were still abed or nursing jangled nerves.
He was half way through a rather delicious piece of fried chicken breast when an annoyed clearing of the throat from behind drew his attention towards the next in line to try and rein in his intentionally disruptive behaviors.
"Are you having a good time preying upon the patience of our young female population?" McGonagall prompted in her best "Professor" dressing-down voice.
Harry snorted as he turned around. "That seems to be sort of a stupid question to ask one of the 'young male population' of the castle, doncha think?" Harry drew quotation marks in the air.
McGonagall curled her lips distastefully, pressing her point further. "The women of this castle are refugees in a war and have already suffered more than their fair share of hardships and do not need further of the same from those they see in a protective role. Preying on already vulnerable women is conduct far beneath one who holds the station of Guardian in the magical realm," she lectured.
"Hmm…" Harry pondered her statement and appeared about to give a serious answer when he became distracted.
Harry was staring first at his half eaten chicken breast and then shifting his gaze towards Professor McGonagall's ample bosom with a hopeful longing look, before he tore back into his chicken breast with a ravenous delight.
McGonagall winced painfully in exasperation and huffed indignantly catching the metaphor, but otherwise did not deign to feed into his juvenile behavior.
Finally, after a few minutes of waning patience, she prompted: "I'm waiting Mr. Potter?"
"You are?" Harry paused, pulling back from his meal with a delighted grin.
"Well isn't it obvious?" McGonagall snapped back, tapping her foot to display her ire.
"I had no idea you felt the same way," Harry chortled as he surged to his feet and without warning planted a shattering kiss on the stunned woman's lips.
He pulled back with a satisfied smack of the lips, cheerfully venturing. "Oh, Man… that was good!" He chortled as Professor McGonagal swayed drunkenly in a shocked stupor amid gasps all around the Hall.
"I had no idea you felt the same. Despite the age difference I think we could really make a go of it. I mean, I'm into older, more mature, albeit, matronly type figures." At this he let his gaze sweep down as he ogled her attributes hungrily.
"Mis-ter- Pot-ter…?!" McGonagall gasped in outrage, finally regaining her senses. She struggled to extradite herself from his clutches whilst others gasped and pointed or outright jeered and cat -called around the dining hall.
"So tell me; how do you stand on shall we say,.. er,.. a bit of role play? You know… nothing too over the top; maybe a nanny outfit for you and a diaper for me? You could powder me and tell me bedtime stories as you nurse me and put me down for the night. Of course, there's always the punishment factor to work out for when I've been bad and make "boom-boom" in my diappee or I accidently pee on you when you're changing me."
Professor McGonagall's eyes were bugging out of her head as she worked her jaw silently in shocked disbelief, too mortified to hex the fool as he rambled on and taking her embarrassment to new heights.
"Don't worry we'll work out the logistics at a later and more private time. Now, I'm thinking we should get to know each other a bit more, er, shall we say- intimately? I was thinking we could make use of the Room of Requirement; nothing too forward at first, what with it being out first date and all? I'm thinking a light dinner and them some entertainment. We could have the room done up like a sultan's tent and you could do one of those veiled belly dancing things. You do dance right? I mean you gave lessons and all, before the Triwizard Ball. That was more of a formal dance education, but if memory serves, your hips had a mind of their own," He smirked suggestively at that last.
"EEEEEK!" Professor McGonagall was finally able to extradite herself from his clutches and fled the hall with a shriek of terror.
"He-He-He," Harry giggled as he fawned dramatically in disappointment and plopped back down into his chair to return to his half eaten meal with more of an appetite than he'd enjoyed previously.
"I wonder who Hermione and company will send next?" he pondered curiously as he pulled a dish of apple pie toward himself.
He didn't have to wonder long, as half way through his serving, a gentle voice asked to sit down and accompany him.
Interesting, Harry thought, clearly intrigued by the change of agent as Nymphadora politely joined him.
Taking a leaf from her page, Harry went with a charming approach. "How are you this afternoon, Dora?"he inquired politely.
"Fine, thank you, "she quickly returned, surprised by his politeness in view of recent reports of, er, uncouth behavior as described by a multitude of set upon witches.
"And Remus is well, I trust?' he asked after his friend.
"Tired, but alright otherwise. Since you broached the subject, I have some concerns regarding these little forays and their increasing lethality. I'd rather that Remus survived this war alive and intact if at all possible!" she sincerely complained.
Harry nodded his understanding and, disarmingly, both agreed with her view point and pledged his adherence to try and honor her wishes. "I am sorry and I quite agree that our last venture was a bit ill conceived. I shall strive to be more consciously aware of the inherent dangers such undertakings involve and to plan and, or, avoid such risks accordingly." Harry reached out and cupped her hand supportively with his own, squeezing gently in reassurance to further prove his sincerity over the validity of her concerns.
Dora goggled, albeit, happily so. She didn't know what exactly she had been expecting, but it hadn't been that. Not by what she'd heard of late. Instead of the "Cad", (as described by the gaggle of witches that had come seeking her support), she found a charming, kind hearted gentleman.
Remus had snickered at the witches in question's, growing concerns and outright laughed incredulously as his significant other had signed on board to help mend the situation, pledging no support, let alone sympathy, on his end.
The man knew what he was about as she would later learn to her dismay.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Harry asked her advice on a topic he was struggling with of late.
"Say, Dora, if I may call you Dora, that is?" he asked so politely that she found herself nodding dumbly in agreement.
"Thank you. As I was saying; I've struggled of late fending off several young and rather vigorous young witches that seem to have some rather, shall we say, permanent designs on my person. Anyway, I'd like your advice on letting them down easy as, well,.. the truth is… is that I find myself leaning toward more ah, manly pursuits, if you catch my meaning?" he asked candidly, seeming completely sincere.
"Oh, um... I hadn't realized." Dora stumbled, trying and failing to conceal her shock at his candor.
"Yes, well… I .. I don't want to be rude, but some of the women have been trying to ply me with love potions and I even caught out a conspiracy to dupe me into taking a prophylactic potion, not that I would need such a thing given my persuasion." Harry sighed embarrassedly, even managing to color in a show of mortification that had his friend's significant other completely taken in.
"Oh, Harry… Harry, I'm so sorry. I had no idea! Of course I'll help you any way I can," she pledged her assistance; herself now embarrassed by having mistakenly taken a side against him without, presumably, having all the fact.
Harry grabbed up her hands supportively. "I knew I could count on you. Now, is this thing with Remus mutually exclusive or would he be open to other avenues of interest?"
"What, er… H-Harry…" Dora hesitated uncertainly. "..you do know that Remus is straight, right?"
Harry rolled his eyes incredulously. "Sure, right... and I'm the queen of England. Really though, you do know that it's a front, right? I mean... come on… that moustache and the way he carries himself? It's so obvious where his interests lie."
At seeing her gob smacked expression, he prompted further. "So do you think I've got a chance? I am willing to share, especially if it'll put Remus' mind at rest by keeping up appearances and all? I understand that his generation was more discreet about such things, but really, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Live and let live I say."
Dora looked like she was going to sick up any minute.
"Dora?" Harry prompted in concern, cupping his hand over her trembling one supportively, to gain her attention.
"GAAAAA!" Dora bolted from the area like a scalded cat as she came out of her stupor in a dead panic.
"He-He-He" Harry laughed, shaking his head incredulously at the ease with which he was able to fend off every petitioner the young witches of the castle sent his way to advocate on their behalf. He pushed away his half eaten dessert as he felt he'd received several surprise treats already and didn't want to risk choking on the next absurdity foisted his way.
Lord, this was good fun. He considered happily as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly in anticipation of the next adventure in the offing.
He waited about ten minutes or so before he left in disappointment, as even the determined Hermione had apparently run out ideas on how to rein in his precocious behavior this afternoon.
He didn't remember school as having been this much fun, and whimsically pondered the notion of staying on as a professor or some such if he survived Voldemort.
Na.,.. who am I kidding? Shaking his head at the futility, he left to seek diversion elsewhere.
Harry didn't have to venture far as a prickling sensation niggling at the back of his conscious told him that injuns were about and not just any Indians at that.
Undoubtedly the reinforcements he'd been expecting had finally arrived.
They took their damn good time about it. He groused silently to himself.
Briefly he considered retrieving his pistols from his room as one could never tell how this particular family would get along when they renewed old ties.
He didn't have to go a searching for his kin as he passed any number of witches and wizards pointing worriedly out the window toward the front, snow swept lawns of the castle.
Harry worked his way steadily out the front of the castle, pausing at the door when his gaze settled on three painted warriors and a striking female who was most probably a priestess or shaman. They all wore tribal leathers, these more for show than the other more practical wear of daily life or the sidewinder leathers used for combat. The men wore dark Stetsons, having opted for comfort, what with the bright sun overhead reflecting off the snowy landscape. The female wore a wreath of flowers and leaves that was common for shamans and priestesses to show their close affinity to nature and the preservation of such nature.
The four were mounted on nightmares which wouldn't have been out of place a hundred years ago, but riding across Scotland in war paint was sure to have attracted some unwanted attention, though he doubted it was an issue as if it were two things his people knew how to do, it was to keep themselves hidden from just such unwanted attention.
The other thing was on how to make an impression.
There they sat, waiting with unwavering eyes fixed on his person. He was barely in ear shot when the largest of the warriors broke into a song of greeting that echoed off the castle walls.
He pulled up a hundred steps by his calculation and bared his empty hands forward in a show of trust. The singing abruptly stopped and the four waited stoically on Harry as he stepped cautiously closer.
"Eeit omoua tetta nah outsue." He greeted warmly when he was a scant dozen steps in front of the group..
"Eeit omoua nah outsue, antaae-(Spirit walker)." The lady returned respectfully, stepping down from the back of her night black mare. Her three companions dismounted and knelt down on one knee, returning the same greeting, with more reverence than the female, which instantly told him his suspicions were correct in that she was someone of importance within the tribe.
"Comessa, English?" Harry enquired, receiving a nod in return from the lady.
"It is good to at last be among family," Harry acknowledged, stepping forward as he would now be welcomed once protocol was honored.
The men rose and he grasped forearms with each of them as they exchanged names and pleasantries.
He paused at the female, gazing appreciatively as he took in her bronze coloring and jet black eyes that shone with knowledge and an iron will.
"Tetanna?" he asked.
"Ye-ah." She nodded in that he guessed right her standing as one of the tribe's shamans.
Harry pulled off his hat and knelt down on both knees, lowering his eyes to the ground in a show of humility.
"You honor me with your presence here, Tetanna." He used her tribal designation as there really was no translation in English that did justice to her position among the tribe.
The woman cast a smug look at her subordinates that clearly stated her appreciation for one who honored the old practices of respectful manners which was something the newer generation was lacking in.
She immediately thanked Harry and pulled him to his feet, kissing his hands reverently as she returned in admiration. "It is I who am honored, Spirit Walker, Black."
Harry colored slightly as rarely did females, any females, let alone a shaman, show him such affectionate deference. The warriors chuckled at his obvious discomfort. They sobered immediately when he leveled his best glare in their direction.
He couldn't know it, but someone, actually several female someones within the castle, were watching the display with less than humorous reactions.
Had he known, he would have enjoyed himself even more.
"I am Wind Song granddaughter of the Thunder," she informed him, knowing he would readily recognize one of his former mentor's names and extrapolate the honor her ancestor was showing him by having pressed on to his ancestors his desire for them to aid Jamie Black when the time came.
"I am grateful." He returned respectfully.
He turned his attention toward the warriors waiting patiently to present themselves by their tribal name which was reserved solely for the use of family.
The first and largest of the three nodded his head, respectfully proclaiming: "I am Bear Claw."
"Calm Waters"
"Shadow Wolf"
"And I am Little Wolf. " Harry presented his tribal name. "You are welcome my brothers. Our home, your home. Our food, your food. Our waters shall mingle with yours and we shall be as one forever more." Harry vowed in the traditional greeting of welcome to close relatives.
The men nodded happily and then waited as their shaman took the lead.
"You seem surprised that we are here, Spirit Walker?" she assumed, judging by his somewhat discomfort that was hidden from most, save her.
Harry quirked a half smile in appreciation for her sharp senses as most would have not picked up on his anxiety.
"I am. As the days wore on since my return I had to assume that you were not coming or perhaps even that our people had not survived the change of progress as America grew and settled. My request of the Thunder is, for you, an old one and it is not a debt owed by either him or his children's children," Harry explained.
"Pah, you are of the people," Wind Song scoffed meaningfully. "Your battles are the people's battles."
Calm Waters added. "Many are the times our elders told tales of the great white Spirit Walker who defended our tribe and its way of life. I thank all that I am to have this chance to return the favor and to meet the legend," he added respectfully, seemingly awed to have met a childhood hero's tale in the flesh.
Harry colored slightly in embarrassment.
Bear Claw took the opportunity to distract him from his embarrassment by making his thoughts known on the matter. "The Dark One you battle is known to us. Should you fail here then how long before he turns his gaze west seeking lands he has no more right to than a locust? How long before he seeks the knowledge of our people and our magic? How long before his villainy besets us and pollutes our people with treachery and strife?" he ventured knowingly, as such evil was easily spread and hard to eradicate as well their people knew by experience.
"We will not have it. We are part of this world Little Wolf. We all share in the responsibility of peace and good fellowship. Such darkness cannot be allowed to grow and fester." Shadow Wolf added his voice to the challenges ahead.
"I am grateful, though still, we are but few," he warned.
Wind Song smiled a knowing smile that promised mayhem in the offing. "We are the people and as such they have sent our daito, (chosen) to aid you."
"The chosen?" Harry gasped in shock. Only the best of the best were given the distinction of the chosen amongst the Locuta. They were the tribe's first and last line of defense, the alpha and omega. If the chosen could not stop a threat to the tribe's peaceful existence than said threat couldn't be stopped-period. In all his memory he had never heard any mention of the chosen being dispatched to distant lands as they were the tribe's immediate and most powerful defenders.
It was beyond an honor that the people were affording him lending credence to the seriousness with which they perceived the threat of Voldemort.
"I am not worthy of your presence, but I am exceedingly grateful for it. Our enemies shall soon know death."
"In death they will find no release as our ancestors will bring them an eternity of enmity for having dared make war on the people," Wind Song vowed, adding plaintively, "no more though will I hear such foolishness of your being unworthy Little Wolf; you who are the first and last Spirit Walker of our people. You not only protected our people in life, but aided them in death. There is nothing you could not ask of us. There is nothing we would not do to aid you in your time of need… in our time of need," she amended.
"F-Forgive me," Harry stammered regretfully. "Over the months since my return I began to despair when having not laid eyes upon our own."
Wind Song smirked and nodded toward Bear Claw meaningfully. "Our guide," She ventured sarcastically
Bear Claw shuffled his feet obviously uncomfortable as he offered meekly, "I, ah... took a wrong turn at Green Land."
The people, including Bear Claw, laughed long and hard at that.