Title: Fairest
Pairing: HP/LV, one-sided BL/LV, HG/RW, GW/DT, one-sided HP/GW, dub-con DM/HG
Disclaimer: I don't really own Harry Potter or the Grimm Fairytales. I also don't really own the idea of this whole thing. The trailer for Snow White and the Huntsman and Game of Thrones inspired me.
Note: So, I have finally compiled a list of all of the fairytales I'll be using in this work. If anyone wants to know about that, you should PM me or review me, if you want to know. They're sorta spoilers so I don't want to put it in here.
Fairest
Chapter Twenty-One
A group of warriors waited on the shores. Cedric's eyes streamed from the salt-laden air and the water that splashed in the faces, crashing against the white shores of Afallon. He looked towards the group. It was a mixture of Muggle, wizarding, and creature but, all looked fearsome in their own way. Their leader seemed to be a tall blonde centaur, draped in fine leathers.
"The Prince and Princess of Alfheim and his Adored Ones. Welcome to Albion," the centaur said.
Cedric jumped out of the rowboat and nodded. He offered his hand to Cho and she grabbed it, her nose wrinkling as she stomped through sloshing water, soaking her leathers and robes.
"Thank you. And your name, Sir?" Cedric asked, awkwardly.
"I am Firenze, one of the King's advisors. The King knows this was a long journey. He appreciates the effort made on his behalf," Firenze said and he looked around the other warriors that stood, watching Cedric, Cho, and the Adored Ones with the wariness of men and women at war.
Two looked particularly suspicious, a young man dressed with a strange austerity, black hair waving to his shoulder and an older man with a large hooked nose and a curtain of black hair to his shoulders. Cedric thought back to the dossier that they kept on the ship—the older man must be Severus Snape, a Death Eater. Amelia had said the man was distinct in appearance.
"We'll need your weapons," Severus Snape said, impatiently.
Justin made an aborted sound of protest in the back of his throat that was silenced Hannah's well-placed elbow between his ribs.
"Of course," Cedric said, as pleasantly as he could despite the tense silence. He felt Cho squeeze tightly at his hand but he ignored it. "Will we be allowed to keep our wands?"
"For now," Firenze allowed with a small smile.
That was foreboding. Cedric handed over his blade and gave a pointed look to his Adored Ones. All hesitant, they passed their steel and bows to the soldiers that waited, their arms held out. Cedric looked at their robes. Most of them had the red emblem of the phoenix on their breasts. So, Order members. Not just ordinary soldiers. Even more foreboding.
"Your Highness—" Firenze began.
"Please. Cedric," Cedric insisted. Cho elbowed him in the stomach but, Cedric ignored her.
"Of course. Cedric. Please, this way," Firenze insisted and Cedric had nowhere to go but up. He allowed Firenze to lead them around the long cliffs, up to a narrow set of stairs carved into the cliffside. Cho clung to his side as they began to ascend, his Adored Ones at his back, and the Order members rounding out their 'escort'.
"O-oh...it's beautiful," Cho murmured as they walked past the cliffs and around, and they could finally see Westeron in all its glory, attached to the white cliffs Cho had admired when they had approached.
"It is, isn't it?" Firenze murmured with a smile. He curled to the right where the staircase parted in two and they ascended more and more, silent as the crash of the waves were so loud they wouldn't be able to hear on another anyway.
They finally walked onto the flat ground after another five minutes in a tense silence.
Cedric's eyes widened as he saw what occupied most of the flat ground to the front of Westeron. A sprawling city rested at its foundation, nearly covered by Westeron's shadow. And surrounding the city was a camp of thousands. Cedric gasped as he saw centaurs training, bows in hand, trolls and Veela clashing together with steel. Banshees shrieking and witches and wizards all training in tandem with Muggles.
"That is...there must be at least 5000 creatures," Anthony breathed as he walked to Cedric's right, covering him and Firenze smiled down at them.
"And growing. We thought that the King would only be at 5000 for his army. But, once the people heard who he was...what he was capable of, they came, like sheep flock to the shepherd. The King turns few away," Firenze said and he tilted his head, curiously. "Once you join to our cause, we will easily be a match for Draco's army."
Cedric winced, shifting nervously as he was reminded once more of why he had come to this foreign land.
"And they are all properly trained?" Justin demanded.
"Not quite," Snape said, maliciously.
The Alfheimeans stared at the strange man but, he barely looked at them, instead parting away to walk through the sea of trainees. Firenze continued to lead them through the military camp, and Cedric did his best to ignore the stares from all the creatures that Cho had only read to him about but, he had never actually seen.
"Severus is correct," Firenze admitted. "But, we have experts training them."
"Who?" Anthony barked. "We will not fight with untrained children."
"The Lestranges. Severus Snape. Lucius Malfoy."
Death Eaters. Well, that would do it. All men that had been trained by the man that was allegedly the most powerful man in the world.
"And the Dark Lord?" Cho whispered.
"He only trains the Wyrdfod. I mean, the King," Firenze corrected himself. "He only makes Kings. So he will only train Kings."
Cedric wasn't sure what to make of that but, he nodded as if he understood anyway. He wouldn't question the man who had destroyed two of the Founders of Light, Godric, and Helga. He was the man that had brought all of Albion to its knees.
"I see. Will the Dark Lord—"
And then, there was a loud screech, louder and more terrible than anything Cedric had ever heard before. He yanked Cho to the ground as a dark shadow loomed over them and he pulled his wand, frantic. He looked up to see a great winged creature, larger than even a house fly over his head. It's great reptilian wings stretched wide, long and leathery and spikes ran along its body, from the crown of its head down to the end of its long serpent-like tale.
"Dragon!" Anthony snarled. "There's a fucking dragon!"
Cedric's blood was chilled and he looked around.
No one else had flinched, instead only staring up at the flying beast in wonder, pointing and smiling, like it wasn't the most dangerous creature that had roamed the fucking earth.
"What the fuck was...there's a dragon? A wild dragon?" Cedric snarled, his blood boiling as he stood up. Cho shuddered, trembling with terror.
"No...dragons are extinct," Cho whispered, looking around at all of the madness.
"She is not wild. She is Freia," Firenze said, simply. He smiled wider. "She belongs to the King."
"He has a dragon?" Cho said, bewildered and Firenze nodded.
"Freia was born into his hands from a petrified egg that he warmed with his Fire," Firenze said and he sighed. "Now, the King is waiting for you."
MIRROR
"The final lesson," Tonks whispered as Harry stood in his chambers, only in his smallclothes. She ignored the bruises on his neck, on his belly. He would tell her in time. Now, there were far more important things to worry about.
"The final one. They're on their way, Tonks. Come on," Harry said, impatiently when Tonks hesitated. His cheeks were slightly pink as she inspected his body but, he refused to apologize or explain. Not yet, anyway.
Harry stared at Tonks, ready for his final lesson. Tonks cleared her throat and waved her wand, Summoning the robes. Harry stared at them in awe. They were grand battle robes—light chainmail and dragon scales, dyed red for his sigil. Harry grinned and glanced at Hedwig. Hedwig was lost under the bed, chasing the rat that Tonks had brought for her. He felt Freia land rather than saw her, the ceiling rocking as she attached herself to the roof just above his head.
She would probably crawl down the side of the castle and attach herself to watch the proceedings through the window. Freia would always protect him.
"You once asked why I dressed like a whore. I will tell you now," Tonks said and Harry nodded, folding his hand in his laps, waiting for the woman's final words of wisdom.
"You said that it was because you seduced men's secrets from them," Harry said and Tonks nodded in agreement, her dark eyes flashing.
Tonks could see this man on the throne. He had killed the boy and this man had been born. This man who knew what he desired, with ambition that was never-ending. Harry Wildfyre would not stop until he had the crown, but he could still learn. He was still a student in the ways of power and Tonks would teach him, though no one had been there to teach Tonks.
"Yes. But, to take secrets, you must have power. I take power," Tonks said, sharply. "It is said that Narcissa of House Slytherin wears creams and rouges to war." Her voice was soft, as if she were telling a fairy story, the kinds that she had told Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasley brood when they were all still children in armor. "That is her mask, her power, and you shall have one too. You shall wear these robes and on your hip, a sword. They call you Fairest. This is your mask. Your cheeks are pale but, they will think your cheeks hollow with a hunger for power. Your lips redder than blood. Your eyes are green but, they are rimmed with darkness."
"You want them to fear me," Harry whispered, brow furrowed in confusion.
Tonks sat on the bed and she smiled when Hedwig bowled her way onto her lap, the little lioness cub.
"Power is a curious thing," Tonks insisted.
"It is," Harry whispered, leaning forward as Tonks stroked Hedwig, gently, cooing as the lioness cub mewled at her.
"Tell me, do you fancy riddles?" Tonks asked.
Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Do you tell good ones?" he asked, hissing and purring at Freia. Freia hopped into his lap, making that shrieking baby sound that made him smile.
"Three great men sit in a room: a king, a priest, and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword. Each great man bids the sellsword kill the other two. Who loves, who dies?" Tonks asked.
"Depends on the sellsword," Harry decided and Tonks smiled.
She raised her violet eyebrow. "Does it? He has neither crown, nor gold, nor favor with the gods."
"He has a sword, the power of life and death," Harry insisted.
"Ah...but if it's swordsmen who rule, why do we pretend kings hold all the power?" Tonks asked. Harry scoffed and frowned, turning away, cuddling Freia tighter to his chest. "Power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick. A shadow on the wall. Just as the mask."
"So, my power does not exist, then? It's fake?" Harry demanded.
Tonks hummed. "Power is a trick. It is not something given or inherited. It is taken. The point, my friend, is that you will don these robes and you will demand it. They will know that you are Hadrian Wildfyre of House Potter and Gryffindor, the First of His Name, and you will not be denied. Will you?"
And Harry thought about it. He thought about the terrible things he had endured throughout his life. He remembered blood, and that memory...that day he had realized that beauty was a curse. Until it wasn't. Until…
"No. I will not. I am Harry Wildfyre. The Fairest of Them All. Beauty is terror," Harry whispered to himself and he didn't notice the way Tonks' eyes widened or the sharp inhale she gave as he stood and ran his fingers over the dragon scale. Freia's scales.
"And what does that mean?" she asked, a prompt.
Harry looked up, a brightness to his eye. "I am terror."
MIRROR
Cho swallowed hard as the small party was led by the great centaur. The centaur, Firenze, looked behind him with a small smile and nodded.
"Don't be afraid," he said.
"Don't be afraid? He has a dragon," Ernie choked out, squeaking.
Cedric kept his face stern but Cho could feel the tension in the way he held her hand. She squeezed once, without looking away, and he squeezed back. Even terrified, Cho couldn't keep the smile off her face.
"We have to do this. Gringotts doesn't view us as stable just yet. If we get the support from the rightful king of Albion, we'll be able to strengthen our country. We can trade with them," Cho said, the logical one despite her terror. She looked around and only Hannah nodded.
Cho knew they would stay terrified. They were weaponless in Afallon, the West of the Alboin Empire. They were allying themselves with the one loyalists called Pretender. There was a dragon outside, and they had no idea what to expect or how to defend their prince and princess against two Slytherins and a man that was supposedly the most powerful person in Albion if he could rein in Slytherins. Firenze led them down the enormous Entrance Hall and slowly the doors creaked open.
And then, she saw him.
He was more beautiful than the letters had proclaimed him.
His face was calm, big green eyes set into them, his mouth red and plush. His hair was a messy black nest of curls. His skin was so pale as if the sun never touched him. He wore battle robes of dragon skin and chainmail, all dyed red. He didn't wear his House sigil. He didn't need it. After all, there was a great albino lioness that lounged in front of his feet.
Standing immediately to his left was the Dark Lord Voldemort. She knew it was him—from his handsome, strong jaw to his crimson war bright eyes. His black hair was slicked away from his face and he was completely covered in black, from his neck down. Even his hands were gloved and the sword that had slain thousands glinted maliciously on his hip.
A pink-haired woman cloaked in crimson stepped forward.
"You stand in the presence of Harry Wildfyre of Houses Gryffindor and Potter, the First of His Name, Rightful Emperor of Albion, King of the Four Directions, the Wyrdfod, Protector of the Realm, Lord of Afallon, the Alpha of the Pride, and the Fairest-of-Them-All," the pink-haired woman declared, her chin held high.
The Fairest inclined his head, a slight smile on his face. Cedric cleared his throat, looking back at Justin. Justin stepped forward.
"This is Cedric Diggory. Prince of Alfheim," Justin choked out, mesmerized by the beautiful king.
And when he spoke, Cho was stricken.
"Thank you for traveling so far, your Highness. I hope the seas weren't too rough," he said. As he spoke, the lioness at his feet yawned, her great mouth opening wide enough to swallow a grown man. Cho shivered again.
"The winds were kind, your Grace," Cedric said, roughly. "We come to negotiate."
"I am the last Gryffindor. The last Potter. The Fairest of Them All. The rightful King-Emperor of Albion," the Fairest said. He leaned forward and the lioness stood, lazily, pacing in front of him. "You've come to pledge your aide, am I wrong?"
"Not quite, your Grace. We come to negotiate," Cedric repeated.
The Fairest tilted his head, as if he didn't understand his words. He looked up at the Dark Lord Voldemort but, Voldemort continued to stare forward, his crimson eyes boring into the Prince of Alfheim and his Adored Ones.
"What is there to negotiate? I have laid my terms, beast," Harry Wildfyre said, his words soft.
"Do not call him that," Cho snapped before she flinched back. The Fairest turned his green eyes onto her, his lips twitching into a slow smile of intrigue.
"No?" Harry Wildfyre asked.
"No," Cho said, firmly.
Harry Wildfyre leaned back in his throne. "Very well, Cho of Alfheim," he said. "Then...why are you here?"
"Because I need your help and you need mine," Cedric said.
Harry snorted. "Did you see the dragon flying overhead when you arrived on Westeron?" Harry Wildfyre asked. How could they have not? They still heard the beast's great shrieks. "And did you see the creatures? All of whom are sworn to me and me alone. They call me Wyrdfod. Do you know what that means?"
"No, your Grace," Cedric said, stiffly.
"It means 'Fateborn'," the Fairest declared.
And Cho didn't know what that meant but, she knew it meant something. She saw it in the way Firenze shuddered at the word, his eyes closed in delight. The way the Dark Lord and the pink-haired woman watched him.
The Fairest smiled, and it was so beautiful. Cho felt a flash of hate.
"What do you want then, in exchange, for your men?" the Fairest asked.
Cho was silent. She glanced at Cedric but, he looked thoughtful, watching the Fairest with a look that Cho didn't like. It was considering and dangerous and he was going to do something reckless. Cho knew her husband. He was always reckless, when it came to her, when it came to his people.
"Your Grace," Cho began, immediately, staring at the beautiful, beautiful man. The Fairest. "After assessing your numbers, we'd like to privately discuss this transaction at a later date. After we've spent some time here. After all, this is a war and though you are the rightful Heir, if you do not win, we will not damn our country. Not for you. Not when we don't know you."
And finally, the Fairest looked like something other than beautiful. He looked...in awe, his lips curling into a wide smile. He looked human.
"Of course. You're my guests. This was rather...forceful of me, I think. Tonks, my Lady of Whispers, will have you escorted to your rooms," the Fairest said. The pink-haired woman stepped forward and nodded at them. "Do treat her with respect. She is the daughter of the Lady of this fortress."
"Andromeda Slytherin?" Cedric gasped.
The Fairest winked and Anthony made a noise at the back of his throat.
"Aye. Nymphadora Tonks, Lady of House Slytherin at your service," the pink-haired woman drawled.
Susan frowned. "Your Grace, what about our weapons?"
"Were they taken?" the Fairest asked with a frown.
"We thought it prudent—" one of the witnesses began.
The Fairest stood, and suddenly, the lioness at his feet no longer looked lazy. She looked on edge, catching the older man in her gaze. The Fairest looked at the man—a man with one normal pale eye and the other large and bulging, a strange magical blue that stared deep into the Alfheimeans' cores.
"You do not think. I think," the Fairest said, coldly. He turned back to the Alfheimeans. "You will get back all your steel. You are not my prisoners."
"Aren't you worried that we could...hurt you?" Anthony asked.
The Fairest laughed, warmer then. "Hurt me? My Lord, would you allow such a thing?" he asked, rolling his gaze onto the Dark Lord who had not spoken the entire time that Cho and the others had been there.
"No, your Grace. I don't think they'd get within ten meters of you," Voldemort smiled.
The Fairest smiled, wider. "Well, then, there's your answer. Now, I look forward to breaking bread with you tonight."
And the Fairest looked towards the Dark Lord for a moment before he let out a tiny sign that his lioness at his heel as he exited. The Dark Lord followed, at his shoulder, already whispering quietly in his ear. Cho watched the others, all with the phoenix symbol on the chest, follow him, silent and ever watchful, until only the pink-haired woman was left.
Tonks had a charming smile, the kind that drew men in. And, despite the oddity of her hair, she looked like a Slytherin, wild-eyed and self-assured to the point of arrogance. Cho didn't like her either.
"Well, then," Tonks said. "I'll show you to your rooms."
ON
She curled into herself on the floor, muscles aching, her blind eyes sore. She struggled to get up again, coughing and collapsed to the ground again when Deyanira's staff cracked across her shoulder blades, knocking the strength air out of her weakened body.
"Get. Up," Deyanira barked.
Gabrielle struggled to her feet. She no longer cried out for Fenrir. He was there, she knew. He was always there, making sure it didn't go too far. It was too late for that now. Even though he tended to her wounds, when they were done for the day, Gabrielle felt resentment fester low in her belly for what he allowed his subordinate to do to her. This didn't feel like training.
It felt like torture.
"I'm up," Gabrielle rasped. Her throat was on fire and she was so thirsty, her lips were cracked and bloody, not only from punches to the face.
"A girl has no name. Do you have a name?" Deyanira asked.
Gabrielle hesitated for only a second, attempting to catch her breath. "No—" she got out before Deyanira whipped across the jaw with the end of her staff.
Another tooth cracked, falling out of her mouth.
"Accio," Fenrir murmured, Summoning the tooth.
He would reattach it later, as he was prone to do.
Gabrielle ran her tongue across the jagged edge and tasted blood. All she ever tasted was blood now. Gabrielle missed the taste of mead and the warmth of bread. Now all she had were a mouth of broken teeth and blood. Fenrir would wrap her wounds, dress her scars, but still, she'd remember the way the teeth cracked in her mouth and the way she cut her tongue open on the edges. Rage.
"A girl has no name," Gabrielle snarled.
Deyanira scoffed as she spun, aimed to fight.
Gabrielle had been fighting for so long. She had been wandering in darkness, blind for weeks. It felt like centuries. Millennia. And the dark was such a lonely place to be. She swept for her sister. She wept for herself. She wept for the child she had been, before she had married Fenrir and begged to learn. She had wanted to learn.
Learn, she would. Learned, she had.
Learned what it meant to be stripped of personhood, of all identity, until you were nothing but the animal that the wizards and Muggles said that she was. She wasn't a person. She didn't love mead or fresh bread or pretty dresses or Albion culture. No. The people of Laug saw a Veela.
A creature.
An animal.
And suddenly, it did not matter that Gabrielle could not see. It did not matter that all Gabrielle knew was sword in her hand. The only thing that mattered was that she could feel Deyanira. She could feel the beating of her heart, could nearly taste the odd copper of her blood, she could almost breathe the same air as her.
"Who are you?" Deyanira snarled from Gabrielle's right.
Slowly, a girl turned, following the beating of Deyanira's heart, the vibrations of her steps.
"No One," a girl said, her voice cold.
"Is that true?" Deyanira taunted. "Gabrielle Delacour wanted to kill me for taking her eyes. Gabrielle Greyback threatened me, screamed, and cried for weeks for her eyes. Who are you?"
Deyanira spun into action before a girl could answer. A girl lifted her sword in a fierce block as she heard the whistle of Deyanira's staff through the air. She could feel the sharp intake of breath as Deyanira gasped. A girl imagined Deyanira's wicked dark eyes widened in shock. A girl knew that Fenrir had frozen in the doorway.
"A girl has no name," she said, warningly.
Deyanira snarled and spun, knocking a girl back. They began to spar, staff colliding with steel over and over again. A girl followed the whistles of the staff through the air, twisting and turning to avoid each heavy blow. A girl knew that Deyanira would not pull her punches now, if she ever had been. The woman was angry. A girl smiled. An angry Deyanira meant a sloppy Deyanira.
Deyanira caught her in the side with a slam of her staff and a punch in the head. A girl didn't let the hits disorient her, rolling with it so that she could keep her equilibrium. Instead, she focused all of her attention and pain on remembering the way Deyanira moved, the way Deyanira breathed.
A girl threw herself forward, twisting her hand around the staff and jerking it out so that she stepped into Deyanira's personal space. Before Deyanira could headbutt her, a girl twisted her sword and punched Deyanira in the mouth with the pommel. A girl could feel the blood smear against her fingers, along her steel and she threw her knee up, catching Deyanira in the stomach. A girl wouldn't give the woman time to recover. A girl wrenched the staff from Deyanira's strong grip and she spun, cracking the staff across the back of Deyanira's head.
She heard Deyanira's knees crack against the ground. She threw the staff as hard as she could.
A girl pulled her wand, holding it to Deyanira's temple while she pressed the edge of her steel to the woman's throat.
"Finally a girl is no one," Deyanira garbled.
And a girl shook her head.
"A girl is Gabrielle Delacour, daughter of Apolline and Louis Delacour, and you will give me my eyes back," she rasped.
Gabrielle tasted the blood on her tongue. She felt the ache in her bones. A few of her ribs were cracked, she had bitten her tongue so deep it would scar and she was cure that Deyanira had nearly cracked her head open but, she was not no one. She was Gabrielle Delacour.
"Why do you deserve them back?" Deyanira snarled, choking around bile and blood.
And Gabrielle didn't know where the rage inside her came from. She did not know why she wanted to hiss and wail. She didn't know why she couldn't slit this woman's throat open and let her bleed out.
"Because what do you say to the Stranger, Death?" Gabrielle snarled. She pressed the blade deeper, and she could feel flesh giving way. She heard Fenrir approach and she didn't move. She let him cup her face and pull her head up.
"Not today," he whispered against her lips. Gabrielle let him kiss her. She didn't kiss back. He took a step back. "Enough, Deyanira. She is ready."
And he shuffled awkwardly before pulling something forward. He pressed glass against Gabrielle's lips and she tilted her head back, swallowing it without even thinking about it. She closed her eyes, refusing to remove the blade from Deyanira's throat. The first thing she thought was how gentle his hands fell against her. She wished that she didn't feel such rage. Such contempt.
"I love you, Fenrir," Gabrielle said, softly. She still didn't open her eyes.
She felt his breath hitch. "And I you, Miss Gabrielle."
"But, I will never forget this betrayal and I will never forgive you," Gabrielle whispered. Slowly, she opened her eyes and though, it was so bright, she was nearly blinded, she looked directly at him. She wanted him to be the first thing she would see. He looked different from how she remembered. He looked older and more animal. Had he always been so feral looking? "Betray me again, and I will kill you."
Fenrir watched her, his eyes strangely cold. They regarded one another for a long time, neither moving, neither backing down. Gabrielle saw her husband for what he was, the way Fleur had seen him from the very beginning.
Fenrir was a predator.
But, he wasn't the only one.
"You are far more powerful than I ever thought you would be," Fenrir said.
"Explain."
"I only wanted you to learn how to defend yourself. Nira saw potential that I did not. And you are...exquisite," Fenrir said and he looked down at his second-in-command, still kneeling. Gabrielle followed his gaze.
Deyanira's head was bowed, her neck pressing against the steel. Gabrielle only needed to twitch to slice the woman's throat open.
"Will you kill me, Gabrielle Delacour?" Deyanira asked. And then she tipped her head back, pressing the back of her head against Gabrielle's belly in a move that stunk of submission. "I am yours to kill."
Gabrielle's lips curled and she pulled her sword away from Deyanira's throat and watched her. Slowly, Gabrielle turned back to her husband and watched him with careful eyes.
"Fenrir...you are a werewolf," she said, blankly.
Fenrir only nodded. "How long have you know?" he asked.
And Gabrielle thought about that for a long time. She thought about the uneasiness that she had felt the first time she met him, the feral gleam in his eyes, the animal-like way he moved.
"Always," she said.
"Okay. I am the Alpha of the Laug Republic pack. It is why I am involved in government. I keep the werewolves under control and we are not hunted," Fenrir said, firmly, and that didn't explain Fenrir's past paramours or why he was so strict about not having Fleur or why he had allowed Deyanira to abuse him. But, it answered some things.
Gabrielle cleared her throat. "It's the new moon. Werewolves run on the new moon."
"Sometimes," Fenrir allowed.
"You run on the full and new moon," Gabrielle corrected. "I'm coming with you."
"Alpha," Deyanira started, still on her knees. "She can't—"
Fenrir held up a finger to silence her. "We won't be changed. Why do you want to come?"
"I am not no one," Gabrielle said. "I am Gabrielle Delacour, your wife, the girl who runs with wolves."
THE
Dinner was…awkward. To say the least. Cedric sat at the end of the long table, Cho to his right and the Adored Ones scattered along the table. On Cedric's left was Anthony and next to him was Madame McGonagall, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Cedric looked up from his meal at the Fairest. He was laughing, softly, his lips pulled into a small smile as Tonks whispered in his ear. The Fairest reached down, holding out a piece of meat for the lioness that lurked under the table.
The Dark Lord sat on the Fairest's other side, his meal sitting untouched.
"How do you like the food, your Highness?" the Fairest asked, finally looking up.
Nearly everyone at the table turned to look at Cedric. Cedric swallowed and lifted his spoon, tasting the overspiced soup again. He forced a smile.
"It's well-seasoned, your Grace," Cedric called.
"Harry," the Fairest corrected.
Cedric nearly dropped his spoon. "I'm sorry?"
"No one calls me 'your Grace' outside of formal functions. And we've already met. We're informal, now. You call me Harry," the Fairest—no, Harry—said and Cedric nodded, weakly. "And I mean all of you. Your lady wife and your Adored Ones, as well."
Cedric cleared his throat. "Okay, Harry. And you call me Cedric, then."
Harry smiled, brightly, and Anthony choked again. Cho looked up at her friend but Anthony looked like he'd been punched in the face.
"What is it?" Cho whispered.
"He's...well, fuck, look at 'im," Anthony said with a tilt of his head.
McGonagall's lips twitched and Anthony flushed when he realized she'd heard him.
"No reason to be embarrassed. He is beautiful. He's aware of it," McGonagall said. She leaned forward, taking a calm sip of her wine. "How couldn't he be?"
"It's a wonder that he hasn't a lover," Cho said.
There was a bark of laughter. Cho looked at the woman next to her. Lady Andromeda's eyes were wide with mischief.
"Who says he hasn't one?" Andromeda challenged with a grin. She looked down the table. "Brother, dear, I've noticed your room has been unused. Is it not to your tastes?"
Harry paused in his conversation. He didn't look at Andromeda but his cheeks flushed slightly and he hastily took a sip of wine before carefully setting his goblet down. He continued speaking quietly to Bill Weasley and Tonks, his voice too soft for Cho or Cedric to hear. Voldemort tore his gaze away from the King to sneer at his sister.
"Fuck off, Andromeda," the Dark Lord barked.
Cedric flinched. He'd never heard the Dark Lord speak and the first words he'd heard was 'fuck off'. How...unexpected.
Andromeda trembled with suppressed laughter. She looked back at Cedric and Cho and in that moment, Cedric saw how much she resembled the Dark Lord and her own daughter.
"My brother is a callous, terrible man but, the King sees a use for him," Andromeda sighed.
"Mother, kindly, resist," Tonks called without looking away from Harry. "We don't want blood on the freshly washed stone. Especially in front of guests."
Andromeda opened her mouth but, Harry straightened, clapping his hands. He cleared his throat, a tight smile on his face.
"I've been rude," Harry said, shortly. "You haven't been introduced. Well, you've met Tonks. My Lady of Whispers. This is William Weasley, Lord of House Prewett, my Lord of the Coin."
Bill Weasley raised his hand in awkward greeting. "Uh, hello."
Cedric nodded, weakly.
"His sister, Ginevra Weasley, Commander of the Archers." An annoyed looking redheaded woman with a mess of freckles clustered on her face. "Madame Minerva McGonagall, Commander of the Calvary." She nodded, deep in her cups with ever-increasing lines on her face. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, Commander of the Infantry." A handsome dark-skinned man with a strange smile.
"And you know my brother," Andromeda interjected. "The Dark Lord."
"Lord Chancellor Voldemort," Harry said, primly, looking oddly stiff, his smile becoming more and more plastic.
Cedric sat silently until Cho stomped on his foot. Hard.
"You know my wife, Cho. This is Anthony—"
"I know who you all are," Harry said. Cedric flinched back, eyes wide. "Anthony Goldstein. Susan Bones. Hannah Abbott. Ernie Macmillan. Justin Finch-Fletchley. Michael Corner. Terry Boot. Dean Thomas."
He pointed to all of them, correctly. Susan's eyes widened.
"How did you...know that?" she said, her voice growing more hostile by the second.
Cho looked ready to bury herself in her hands. Cedric could feel the diplomatic incident approaching.
"I...is that odd?" Harry asked. "I...the Dark Lord has very good records. I know...everything about all of you. And I...apologize for calling you a beast, Cedric. It was rude."
All of the Alfheimeans flinched.
"Harry…" Ginny hissed but, Harry ignored them, keeping his odd green eyes trained on Cedric.
"We don't...talk about that," Cho said, firmly.
Harry hummed. "Are you ashamed?" he asked.
Cedric flinched. Harry Wildfyre was strange, beautiful, and oddly perceptive. "I...this doesn't seem like appropriate dinner conversation," he said finally. It was what his father would have said, if he were there.
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized again. "I didn't mean to...nevermind."
There was a long strained silence that was interrupted only by the clinking of forks against chinaware. Harry kept his eyes on his plates, his brow furrowed oddly as he seemed deep in thought. Cedric wondered what was happening in that pretty head. Even as he thought it, he felt a flash of guilt course through him and he looked at Cho from the corner of his eye. She looked oblivious, though still annoyed with Harry but, Cedric wasn't fooled.
Cho always knew.
"Your Grace, if you don't mind me asking but...you have a fair amount of young people on your council and characters that wouldn't exactly encourage trust between our countries. Could you clarify your choice?" Cho asked, suddenly, her eyes cutting and Cedric winced.
Cho was proper. She wouldn't outright insult Harry Wildfyre but, she'd question him within an inch of his life. And still, even if the man took offense, she could cite the same reason as before—she wanted to 'know' him. Cedric nearly scoffed. It was recompense, a defense for Cedric's honor that was wholly unnecessary.
"You mean to say why would he make the Dark Lord his Lord Chancellor?" Voldemort said and Cho winced. She hadn't expected him to respond directly. "The man that murdered thousands, including his mother and father."
"Yes," Cedric inserted, grabbing Cho's hand under the table. She squeezed back in thanks for his solidarity. "My father wasn't your biggest fan, my Lord, and neither is the General of my army. Madame Amelia Bones."
"Madame Bones isn't a fan of me because the last time we met, I nearly killed her," Voldemort said, matter of factly. He ignored Susan's soft snarl. "But, that's no fault of mine. She challenged me when she had no place to do so, and I don't see why this line of questioning should be entertained."
The King still hadn't spoken, seemingly mulling over the words. Finally, he spoke. "Because Ginny Weasley never misses, and Kingsley Shacklebolt is wise beyond my years. Bill Weasley knows how to count far more than me, and Madame McGonagall has spilled blood in my name. And Tonks was a whore so she knows the secrets of whores. And Voldemort makes king, and I have been made, and he was there when the boy was killed, and the man was born."
He spoke it so matter of factly, as if he didn't know how mad he sounded. Tonks snorted into her meal but, didn't say anything.
Cedric glanced over at Cho, whose face was screwed into an expression of distaste. He looked over at Anthony, who looked absolutely fascinated.
They finished their meals in silence.
WALL
"What do you think of him?" Cho asked.
Cedric looked around the room, all of the Adored Ones waiting for his answer.
"Who?" he asked, nervously.
Cho scoffed. "Really, Cedric?"
"He's beautiful," Anthony interjected. "Fairest of Them All. That certainly wasn't exaggerated. And he's got a dragon and the Dark Lord."
Susan snorted. "The Dark Lord...in his bed. If the Lady Warden's implications are to be heeded," Susan warned and Anthony scoffed at her. "I'm just saying...I doubt that the Dark Lord shares and I would hate to see you dead."
"I can—"
"Don't even joke," Justin interjected. "You can't beat Susan, who can't beat Amelia, who can't beat the Dark Lord. He'd kill you in a second flat. Remember what he said? Not even ten meters. The Fairest of Them All, indeed."
Hannah looked up from where she was mixing her healing salves, her eyes wide and waiting.
"Cedric...what do you think?"
"I think...that he's got a good heart. I think," Cedric added as an afterthought.
Cho wrinkled her nose "He's strange. A bit awkward. He was trying so hard for us to like him. He was callous breaking up the...hairy thing at dinner. And he threatened you, Cedric. He's dangerous. But, we have to...we have to consider helping him. For Alfheim."
"I'm not putting our soldiers in danger until I'm sure of him," Cedric said, warningly. "I'll play politics but, not that much. Not until I know we aren't fighting for just another Dark Lord in the making."
"He has all of these creatures loyal to him. The way Firenze, the centaur, spoke about him doesn't make him sound like a Slytherin. If you'd remember, Draco is a Slytherin, no matter who his father is," Dean said, pointedly. He was always the one that spoke logic and it had Justin and Ernie nodding in agreement.
Anthony and Hannah still looked unsure but, Cho and Susan would be stubborn in their vehement dislike of the King.
"I heard he freed them all," Hannah said, full of uncertainty. She twitched when everyone turned to stare at her and she pressed closer into Susan's side, basking in the other woman's warmth. "At least...before dinner, I went into the city to look for supplies. For salves. And I spoke to the woman at the apothecary. The woman said that he freed all of the creatures. Draco Slytherin was enslaving them. He wanted to use them in his armies but, he freed them."
Cedric considered that and he understood why the creatures were staunch in their loyalty to the man.
"So, they just bind themselves to another master?" Susan snorted.
"Loyalty is won by kindness and I think he's a kind man with a good heart," Hannah insisted, softly, even as everyone stared at her, bewildered.
"Kind? We don't even know him," Anthony pointed out. Hannah winced at his irritation and Susan turned to her lover, grabbing her by the shoulders and looked her firmly in the eye.
"Albion can't take another Slytherin. The world can't take another Slytherin," Susan murmured.
There was a long painful silence. Dinner with three Slytherins had been odd, to say the least. It had been threatening at the most. Andromeda Slytherin had been snide to her brother, almost like Susan would act towards Anthony or Justin, or even Dean, but, Susan didn't radiate the same power that Andromeda did. Andromeda looked at them as if she knew their every thought, and it reminded him of what Amelia had called the woman, but hadn't explained. Andromeda Empath.
"He's not like me and mine."
The Adored Ones were alert immediately. Even Hannah pulled a knife and wand, pointing them both at Nymphadora Tonks. The pink-haired woman looked far more relaxed than when she had first met them, regarding them like bugs to be smashed beneath her foot.
Cedric could tell this woman was powerful but, she wouldn't win easily against them, if at all. She seemed to recognize that.
"You and yours? How did you get in here?" Ernie demanded. "Dean and I warded this place so much, you shouldn't be able to come in here if you aren't Alfheimean."
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "I am the Lady of Whispers by my own merit."
"I thought it was because you were a whore and knew the secrets of whores," Cho said, repeating Harry's words and to her merit, Tonks smiled, laughing softly. She looked at them all as if they were nothing but children. Cedric hadn't been made to feel like a child in a long time.
"I was a whore. I slept with men and women for their secrets. I furthered the cause more than almost anyone," Tonks said, firmly.
"A whore is a whore," Justin said casually.
Tonks' eyes flashed. "I dare you to say that to my King and hear his response. He doesn't take kindly to the word."
"Why?" Cho asked. "He's a hypocrite, then? He called you a 'whore'."
"He believes only those that have been called such a terrible thing should have the right to say it," Tonks retorted. "And my King has been called far more debased things than just whore."
Cedric was silent for a long moment, watching the woman who so fiercely defended her King.
"Did he really free all of those creatures?" Cedric asked, finally.
"He did. He was willing to give Freia up for them. Because the idea of someone in chains makes him weep. The idea of someone enslaved makes his weak. And they don't follow him out of gratitude or misplaced loyalty either," Tonks said, sharply. "They follow him because he is worthy."
"Worthy?" Cedric repeated, mulling the word over in his head. He ignored Cho's careful stare as she tried to figure out what was in his head. He wanted to shake her. The woman was always so damn suspicious after what that tow-headed witch had done to him.
Tonks nodded, firmly. "And you will find him worthy too."
WHO
"Fuck, I fucked up that up!" Harry said softly, pacing up and down his room, his face buried in his hands. He ignored the Dark Lord and Tonks as he worried himself into a frenzy. He looked up at them, wide-eyed. "Tell me how bad it was. How terrible it was."
Tonks hesitated.
"You were...being weird, Harry. I don't know what else to tell you. It was just weird," Tonks said, earnestly.
Harry groaned and began his pacing again. "They hate me. I was trying...I was trying to make them like me. I've never had to worry about people liking me. They just...kinda do. Unless they were my aunt who just hates me on principle."
"That Muggle bitch isn't your aunt. Don't claim her," Tom drawled.
Harry huffed, ignoring the man's words.
"I know, Harry. But, to others, you aren't just our Harry. They haven't seen how you were before," Tonks sighed. "All they see is a man. A beautiful man. With a dragon. With the Dark Lord. With the loyalty of all these creatures. You are strange and foreign and too powerful to trifle with. I underestimated how intimidating you would be. But, they'll learn better. I've already warned them—"
"Warned them?" Harry squeaked. "What did you do?"
"My job as your Lady of Whispers," Tonks snapped. Harry watched her carefully and Tonks' eyes softened. "They will find you worthy. As we did. They will see past your terrifying beauty and beneath how amazing you are. They will see that you have a good heart."
"Do I?" Harry whispered as he grabbed at his book and settled on the couch, curling into Tom's side, basking in his warmth. He winced when he felt a hard grip on his chin and Tom tilted his head up to stare into his eyes.
"Never doubt that you have a good heart. This may have been your birthright but you have earned the trust of these people through no power but your own. You have put your faith in a faithless man. You have freed a people. You have gained the respect of your elders. And you have a terribly good heart," Tom said firmly, speaking to him as if they were the only two in the room.
Tonks watched them and saw how easy it would be for Harry to fall in love with this man. She slowly stood and she couldn't help her tired smile when Harry didn't even look away from the man. Instead, she slipped from the room, intent on seeing her son before she put him to bed and perhaps to speak with Remus.
Harry's cheeks flushed pink and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Tom's lips, chaste and warm before he pulled back and plucked his well-read book, about Alfheim history, up from the side table. He kicked off his pants—though he didn't remove his over robe—and crossed to the bed and leaned back against the headboard, his eyes scanning over words he'd read nearly four times. Tom regarded him for a long moment before he stood and joined him, kneeling at the end of the bed.
Harry laughed softly when Tom slowly began to unbutton his robes from the bottom up. He opened it just to his chest before he leaned down again.
"W-what are you doing?" Harry laughed as Tom lifted his bare leg up onto his shoulder. Tom turned his head, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just above Harry's ankle.
"Tasting you," Tom groaned. "There's so much I want to do to you."
"Well, I'm working," Harry said softly, his voice cracking as Tom kissed up his leg, nipping and teasing at the skin of his calf. He lightly kicked Tom in the side but, the Dark Lord paid him no mind. "I need to know more about the Alfheimeans. They don't...like me. They think I am cold. That I am vain. That I am arrogant. I'm not. I just...I've never had to work to get people to like me. Either they like me too much or they hate me. And these people...Tom, I need them to like me."
"Because your beauty intimidates their Princess and your power intimidates their Prince and his warriors. You are the Fairest," Tom murmured against the skin of his thighs and Harry gasped, choking on a quiet giggle as Tom yanked him forward by his legs, spreading them wide.
"I can't, Tom. I'm…" Harry flushed, looking away under Tom's delighted stare. "I'm sore."
Tom smirked and didn't say anything as he kissed Harry's thighs, sucking bruises into the soft, pale skin. Harry gasped, his book falling from his hand, a page wrinkling from his rough treatment. Harry's head fell back as Tom dragged his tongue up the soft skin, brushing and nipping at Harry's balls.
"T-Tom…" Harry gasped. He choked when Tom drew his tongue lower and he felt the roughness of Tom's tongue against his sensitive hole. "Tom...you shouldn't—Tom."
Tom turned his face into the crease of Harry's thigh and smirked as Harry moaned his name.
"Harry...do you remember what I said I wanted to do to you?" Tom asked, looking up at Harry with bright red eyes. Harry tossed an arm over his eyes, his cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes…" Harry choked out.
Tom smirked and leaned down again.
Harry gasped, softly as he felt Tom's tongue, drag under his balls, brushing across his hole. His thighs tightened around Tom's ears as a soft moan escaped his mouth. Harry bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the noises as Tom tasted him. He gasped when he felt Tom's tongue thrust inside of his hole and he clenched down, whimpering softly. Tom laughed again and Harry lost himself to the feeling of Tom's tongue lapping against his hole, thrusting in and out of him, a steady movement.
Harry tried not to squirm but he pushed against Tom's tongue, chasing the feeling of it. He'd never felt anything like that before. It was overwhelming. It made him feel worshipped and vulnerable. It made him...it made him...
"Fuck...I'm going to cum...fuck," Harry gasped.
Tom nodded and reached one hand up, wrapping it around Harry's cock. Harry keened in the back of his throat as Tom applied just the right pressure, pressing his tongue flat against Harry's hole and flicked his wrist just the right way. Harry let out a yelp as he came, jets of seed splashing across his abdomen, dribbling down his cock onto Tom's fingers.
Harry lazily looked up at the man still out of breath. He watched as Tom inspected his fingers, that same non-expression on his face before his tongue darted out, tasting Harry's seed. Harry moaned, throwing his arm over his eyes.
"Please, don't make me hard again. I'm so, so tired," Harry whined.
Tom snorted as he wiped his hand on the bedsheet. "It's not my fault you're lacking in stamina. Also, you taste exquisite. As I knew you would."
"Fuck you, asshole. Get me a towel. I don't want to wake up to dried cum gluing me to my sheets," Harry said, snarkily, his cheeks flushing red.
Tom snorted again, rolling his eyes. "Yes, your Grace."
"Fuck you."
"You're the one that said you were tired," Tom reminded him.
Harry growled. "Fuck...you know what, please just do as I asked."
IS
Gabrielle watched herself in the mirror, touching her face and her skin, in awe of what she was seeing. It had been weeks since she had last seen her face, and a week or so still since she had gotten her vision back. But, still, she couldn't get over watching herself in the mirror, inspecting the differences that had jumped at her.
She looked older.
Her 16th birthday was quickly approaching.
Her hair glowed silver and her eyes were paler though she wasn't sure if that was due to her blinding or due to the fact that she was nearly a Veela, as her sister was. Once upon a time, Gabrielle would've been made to put on the veil to protect herself. Now, Gabrielle could protect herself with steel. Perhaps her magical education was lacking but, that was something she could do on her own now that she had her eyes.
Her eyes.
Gabrielle stood, looking at her chest, bared slightly her robe. There were scars there. Old bruises were fading but Deyanira had beaten her day in and day out for months, placing new bruises on top of old bruises. Of course, they would scar. Gabrielle used to be proud of them. Now, she wasn't sure what she felt.
"The full moon approaches. You can't run with us."
Gabrielle looked at Fenrir through the reflection. Slowly, she pulled her robe closed and turned to look at him. His eyes were soft, like they were when they first got married. It was as if he had forgotten her words the day she had gotten her sight back.
Gabrielle hadn't.
"I know. When will you back?" Gabrielle asked as she walked up to him. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. She could feel his fangs brush against her skin. He always let the wolf out more when it was close to the full moon.
Gabrielle had pretended not to notice before. But, that wasn't an option anymore.
"We have a few new turns. It'll be hard to get them to recover. I'll be gone a week, at most," Fenrir said, firmly. Gabrielle nodded and she tugged him out of her room.
Her room. She only slept in his bed now.
She tugged him to the study, where they took their breakfast. Gabrielle only went to the ballroom to train. When she went in there, hunger and thirst went away. Everything went away except for the violence thrumming in her veins and the rage. So much rage.
Gabrielle pushed it away, compartmentalizing. She looked down at the spread and smiled.
Warm bread. Fresh, unsalted butter. Apples from Albion. He was trying. So, he hadn't forgotten how upset that she still was.
Good. He should never forget.
"Come break fast with me first," Gabrielle insisted and she tugged him down, pressing a warm kiss to her lips before she pushed him into the chair and she sat on his lap, curling up against his warmth. He was even warmer near the full moon, practically a fireplace.
"Apples," he said, holding one up in offering. Gabrielle guided his hand to her lips and she took a bite of the crisp, crunchy fruit. She smiled, allowing the juices to roll down her chin. He lapped it once and gave her a peck as she swallowed.
"I love apples," she murmured.
"I know," he whispered.
They ate, in near silence, only breaking the silence once in a while. Gabrielle closed her eyes as she ate. She could taste the oiliness of the butter, the warmth of the bread. The copper taste of blood remained on the back of her tongue. Blood and ash.
She wondered if this was what Death tasted like.
She didn't ask Fenrir out loud. Instead, Gabrielle gorged, tasting and attempting not to think about the blood. She tried not to think about the welts on her back that she could not reach and didn't want to Fenrir to touch. She didn't think about the fact that she and Fenrir hadn't fucked since she lost her sight. Except, she did.
"When you get back, I'm going to ride your cock so hard, I might break it," Gabrielle said, softly.
Fenrir twitched under her, his lips pulled into a feral grin. "Why not before I leave?"
"Go run with your wolves, Alpha," Gabrielle said, loftily, pulling out of his hands before he could think to grab her. Fenrir threw back his head and let out growling laugh.
"You are quicker now, Miss Gabrielle," Fenrir said.
"I've always been quick, Mister Greyback," Gabrielle teased and she grabbed the last roll of bread just as Fenrir began to reach for it. She winked and nibbled at it as she walked away from him, feeling his eyes on her back.
Fenrir stood and followed her. Gabrielle walked towards the foyer, where she knew she was. She walked down the stairs, standing on the landing and watched Deyanira. Deyanira stood there, without staff, dressed in the thinnest robes Gabrielle had ever seen. Gabrielle supposed they made sense. Deyanira would only strip out of them anyway, when they ran.
"Gabrielle," Deyanira said and slowly she tilted her head, exposing her neck.
Gabrielle only nodded and turned away from her, looking up at Fenrir.
"I'll see you in a week, my love," Gabrielle said.
Fenrir nodded, staring down at her, seriously. "Do you have the keys, Gabrielle?" Fenrir asked.
"In my bedside table," Gabrielle said.
"Remember. Don't go into the room in my study," he reminded her as he reminded her every time.
And Gabrielle smiled demurely, as she did every time. "I won't. I promise."
Fenrir nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he loped down the stairs and grabbed Deyanira by the neck, squeezing once. He was out of the door in the next second. Deyanira hesitated at the door, watching Gabrielle.
"Who am I?" Gabrielle asked.
And Deyanira opened her mouth as if to say something. "The others...the others were not like you, Gabrielle Delacour."
"What were they like?" Gabrielle asked.
"Not like you. You are...marked," Deyanira said. She shook her head and disappeared through the door, leaving Gabrielle all alone.
Gabrielle rolled her shoulders back and looked at the door, coldly.
It was time for her to learn how to cast the Unforgiveables.
FAIREST
Cedric watched, gasping for air as he watched the Fairest.
Harry was wielding fire without a wand in sight. He seemed to spin and move as the flames twisted around him and the great beast next to him breathed flames in tandem, manipulating it just as he did. They looked utterly in sync, as if they were no difference between them in mind or heart. It was a mesmerizing sight that took Cedric's breath away.
Cedric took a shaky step forward, and suddenly, the dragon—Freia—snapped out of concentration, spinning bright yellows on him. She screeched in rage, her long head swiveling towards him immediately. She curled her long spiked tail around Harry, her wings widening to increase her size. Cedric took a shaky step back but, he refused to scream.
"Don't make any sudden moves."
Cedric flinched at the soft words and he glanced over his shoulder. The Dark Lord was watching them curiously. His hands were clasped behind his back and even though he appeared non-threatening, Freia screeched at him anyway, hot spittle flying from her mouth onto their skin.
"Doesn't she...she doesn't like you either, does she?" Cedric rasped.
The Dark Lord's lips twitched. "She doesn't like anyone but her Master."
Cedric looked to Harry for help but, the King only stared at Freia. Cedric took a trembling step forward, reaching his hand out. Harry's eyes widened in interest as Cedric gathered his courage and pushed down the fear. He swallowed back the bile and stopped his shaking and reached forward even more.
Even still a few inches away, he could feel the heat of her body. Cedric closed his eyes and reached farther, his neck straining.
"Your Highness!"
Cedric could hear Susan's warning but, he ignored it, reaching out farther and then his hands connected with soft scales. They were softer than he thought they would be.
Slowly, Cedric opened his eyes and stared into Freia's.
"Oh…" he whispered.
Harry's eyes were wide with shock and he slowly stepped out of the coil Freia had made with her body, moving alongside her flank and her side, brushing his fingers across her scares, whispering softly to her.
"Go," Harry called.
Freia screeched and then with the heavy beating of her wings took off, sending a harsh wind across them all. Cedric flinched but, Harry was still, so used to it. Harry's eyes followed Freia, his lips pulling into a soft smile.
"Well…" Cedric said, his voice cracking.
Harry's smile grew wider. "Beautiful, isn't she?"
"That wasn't the word I was going to use," Cedric admitted. Harry's smile fell sharply. The Dark Lord snorted, turning away in amusement. For some reason, Cedric's cheek turned pink with chagrin. "But, yes. Gorgeous beast."
"She's not a beast," Harry said, firmly. Cedric frowned at him. "I...I birthed her out of my own fire, you know. The fire you saw. She's...mine. She's not a beast. No matter how terrible she gets. No matter how big. No matter how many people she terrifies. She's mine."
Cedric hesitated.
"You must understand how you sound," Cedric said, earnestly.
"How do I sound?" Harry asked, patiently.
Cedric frowned, figuring how to phrase it without offending the man. He looked at the Dark Lord but, the man was carefully watching Cedric's Adored Ones, keeping them far with just a look.
"I don't...is the Dark Lord's presence necessary?" Cedric sighed.
Harry twitched at the question, as if he'd never been asked such a thing.
"I...my Lord—" Harry began.
"No, your Grace," Voldemort said, immediately.
Harry huffed, shaking his head. "Tom," he barked.
"Harry," Voldemort retorted, just as annoyed. Cedric watched, entranced as the two watched each other, as if measuring their stubbornness against one another. Finally, Voldemort rolled his eyes and walked away, his eyes trained on Tonks as she trained with one of the redheads—Ron, Cedric thought. That one was always in McGonagall's shadow.
Cedric regarded Harry and pointed. "That...that's…"
"I don't understand you, Cedric of Alfheim," Harry said, softly, and he looked off to the cliffs, at the crashing waves, his eyes narrowed.
"I don't understand you," Cedric retorted. "You don't know how you sound. How you look. How you appear to my people."
Harry let out a hard laugh. "Oh, I know. I'm beautiful."
Cedric scoffed. "That's not what I mean. Yes, you're beautiful. But, to my people, you're terrifying."
Harry finally looked at him, a bright gleam in his green eyes.
"That's what I said," he challenged, his voice low.
"You are terrifying, Harry Wildfyre. You are powerful, beautiful, and terrifying. I come here and the first thing I see is your army. An army of creatures that have sworn themselves to you and you alone. The second thing I see is your dragon. And then, I see three tamed Slytherins. And finally, I see you. And you...you could be the savior of my country or its destroyer," Cedric snapped angrily.
Harry regarded him. "I would never come to your country and take it from you."
"That's not the point. I'm sorry but, we've avoided this too long," Cedric said, his non-apology hanging in the air between them. "My country is struggling economically. Due to my disposition, trade was closed and we survived on what we had. It wasn't much. We're attempting to open ports now but, allying with you will severely limit our resources until your war is done. I can't do that when I can't even get Gringotts to approve us for a loan. So, I need to know that this is worth it."
"It's worth it," Harry said, firmly. "My cause is worth it. These people are worth it."
Cedric raised his eyebrows and regarded the other man. "We'll see."
OF
"Their training is going well, your Grace," Rodolphus Lestrange said as he walked with the King throughout the training grounds. "They were trained individually, in their own people's arts, but we are allowing a well-rounded education."
"Good," Harry said, firmly, and he smiled up at Rodolphus. He appreciated that the man didn't even look a little off-balanced. The same couldn't be said to Rabastan who looked like he'd been hit over the head. "I've heard, through Firenze, that there are those that don't wish to fight. What do they do."
"They are far and few between, your Grace. They are mostly the elders. Each group of creatures has elected elders to stay behind. To conduct the rites for those that die," Rodolphus said.
Harry's heart sunk but, he couldn't fault the creatures. They were being pragmatic. Harry wasn't naive enough to believe that no one would die but, he'd like to pretend, just a little longer. The creatures didn't have that luxury. They had already seen some of their loved ones be murdered in the camps, and they hadn't been afforded rites before. He would gladly allow that.
"I...that's good," Harry said, firmly before he could lose his footing. "You will be returning to Hogwarts soon?"
"I...believe so," Rabastan stammered. "We still have a few Death Eaters that my Lord deemed unnecessary as of yet. We don't want to draw Narcissa's eye. She has already noticed that he leaves too often, and the Dark Lord suspects that she is curious about Andromeda's sudden departure."
"We won't be able to hide our residence here for much longer," Harry muttered under his breath. He had hoped they would be able to but, the armies were becoming much too large, and the amount of magic concentrated was bound to be noticed by someone.
"There are options, your Grace," Rodolphus said, firmly. "We will close the Western Bridge. Afallon is largely self-sufficient."
"There are people here that don't even know that I'm here. That don't know the danger I put them in," Harry muttered to himself and he didn't notice Rodolphus and Rabastan exchange surprised looks behind his back.
He looked up, watching the centaurs spar, fighting with the sort of brutality that he embodied in battle. It made his blood roll for a fight though he knew that he could always train with Tom later.
"They'll know soon enough, your Grace. We know the roles that we've played in the Slytherin regime, and we are not exactly...regretful but, we are not proud either. We know that these people will benefit from your presence and your rule," Rabastan said, firmly. He leaned forward, staring at Harry, a curious look in his eyes.
"You have already helped the people of Godric's Hollow," Rodolphus added. Harry looked up at him, jerking. "We got your message. From Sally-Ann."
"Oh...good. You never mentioned it, so I didn't know if…" Harry hesitated, waving his hands as if to fill in what he was going to say. Rodolphus looked unimpressed but nodded.
"You're a good man," Rodolphus said and he stepped in front of Harry, blocking his view. He glanced at Rabastan who caught sight of whatever they didn't want Harry to see. "Your mother would've done the same."
"I forgot. You also knew my parents," Harry said, softly.
"Not well," Rodolphus said, firmly. "But, you show the same bravery that I knew of them. You defend the weak, fight for what's right, and deliver justice to all those that deserve it."
"I try," Harry murmured.
Rodolphus hummed. "You do more than try. If you didn't, I wouldn't want you as my King. Now close your eyes."
Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to step around the Lestrange Lord. "What are you doing?"
Rabastan glanced over his shoulder and frowned as he caught sight of the Prince of Alfheim approaching. He shook his head once and the man came to a stop, his brow furrowed. Rabastan turned around, looking over Rodolphus' shoulder again and then nodded.
"I am your King! You will move, Rodolphus Lestrange, or—" Harry shouted just as Rodolphus stepped to the side.
Cedric watched Harry freeze as the cake was brought to him, held unsteadily in the hands of a young child—maybe five years—with a shock of turquoise hair. He assumed the child was Tonks', due to her penchant for odd hair colors.
"Happy birthday, Harry," the child said, shyly.
Harry looked up, almost lost, untrusting if it was all for him. It struck Cedric as oddly childlike. He had never thought about the Fairest as a child. He had never thought about the fact that he must have been born and grown up. Cedric wondered if Harry had always been so beautiful or if he had grown into that beauty. He was even more unsure which was worse.
"Oh...it's my birthday, isn't it?" Harry asked, softly, slowly falling to his knees. He took the cake from the little boy's hands and sniffed once before he passed it to Percy's waiting hands. "Oh, come here, Teddy."
Teddy grinned and threw his chubby arms around Harry's neck. Harry held him back, his eyes wide and he shivered as he looked up at Tonks, Remus, the Weasleys, and Voldemort.
"It's my birthday," Harry repeated. "It feels like I've known all of you forever."
"The day that summer died and was reborn," Remus confirmed. He looked tired, and a little sad but, he continued on. "I remember it well. Every flame in Albion was snuffed out and came back twice as strong."
Tonks laughed, softly. "To be honest...we forgot."
"So did I," Harry laughed as he slowly pulled away from Teddy, pulling the man into his side and he looked at Madame McGonagall. "Madame?"
"I remembered the cake. After I was reminded," McGonagall admitted.
Harry froze and slowly he turned to look at Voldemort. The Dark Lord stared back at him, impassively, his lips twitching. A broken sound emerged from Harry's lips and he twitched, as if he wasn't sure what to do with his body. He looked around and even Ron was nodding, grudgingly. And Cedric knew then because Harry launched himself forward, leaping at Voldemort, and wrapped his arms around him.
Harry pulled away, as if he suddenly remembered himself and he grinned as he looked at all of them. The creatures were watching, curious about the celebration of their Wyrdfod, wondering what the King would say. Harry ran a hand through his hair, fighting his grin and he nodded at all of them.
"I...thank you. So much. I've never...I've never gotten a birthday cake before," Harry admitted, looking down at the grass and Ron gasped, his eyebrows high.
"Never?" he demanded.
Harry shook his head. "I...we didn't celebrate my birthday. I...thank you," he said, as if he still couldn't believe it. He let out a quiet whoop and grabbed Teddy from the ground, holding him tight. The little boy giggled and squirmed but Harry only squeezed harder. Harry looked at the people that followed him—the people that loved him, Cedric realized—and let out a watery laugh. "Thank you. Cake, anyone?"
THEM
Daphne stared at the bowl of salt water, running her strange wand over the surface, reading the ripples and whispers that the sea had brought to her. Neville watched her with uncertainty as she gurgled and whispered. Daphne had always made him uncomfortable when she practiced unknown magic. It had always pleased their grandmother though, just as it pleased the woman now. Augusta looked grimly satisfied though she knew nothing of worth just yet.
She knew to expect only good things. Daphne always delivered good things, from the moment she had come to them.
"Sister, what do you hear?" Neville asked.
Daphne jerked as she sat up, her wand falling to the tabletop with a soft clatter and a half-hearted roll. She looked over at Neville, brushing her hands over her temple, smoothing down the flyaways. She dipped her hands in the salt water and took a deep breath, shuddering with pleasure as she disrupted whatever she had been doing.
"My sister has told me that my father is ill," Daphne said.
She didn't sound particularly sad about any of it.
"I apologize, ward-sister," Neville said anyway.
Daphne shook her head. "It is better this way. Astoria will rule."
"You give up your birthright so easily," Augusta said with a snort. "You foolish girl."
"My place is here with you," Daphne retorted, staring at her grandmother with narrowed eyes. Augusta plucked up a sausage, popping it into her mouth. "I know that. I've always known that, Grandmother."
Augusta snorted. "Even as a child?"
"Even then," Daphne said, firmly. She looked around, though she knew that no one would interrupt. Augusta had warded it so well that she doubted that they could leave without her Grandmother taking the wards down. "A ship crossed the oceans. Alfheimeans."
"Alfheimeans aren't on their way to Hogwarts. We'd know that," Neville said, firmly. "If they were allying with him, Draco would have bragged about it. Or the servants would talk."
"They're not allying with him," Daphne said.
Augusta froze in the middle of her sip of tea. She slowly placed the teacup down. "Andromeda left to ally with the Gryffindor," she murmured.
"Do you think they know?" Neville asked, immediately.
"Hermione knew nothing. She thinks that I'm the enemy, aiming to steal her place in Draco's 'heart'. I know that she was close to Andromeda," Daphne said, firmly. She sighed, leaning back in her seat though she continued to rake her fingers through the saltwater.
"Ask her," Augusta said, firmly.
Daphne snorted. "She already threatened me, Grandmother. She will not take well to me prying," Daphne retorted, shaking her head. "But...I do think that Narcissa suspects. Narcissa suspects everything."
"How will we know if it's true?" Neville asked.
"If it's true, they'll close off the Western Bridge soon. What else has your sister heard about the Gryffindor boy?" Augusta asked.
Daphne hummed, her brow furrowing. "She calls him...Wyrdfod. But, that can't be true."
"Wyrdfod? The lullaby," Neville said, referring to the song that she always sang to the orphaned children in Arcadia, the song that she used to sing to him after his parents had been murdered and she wanted him to sleep.
"They think he's the Wyrdfod. Astoria says that he has an army of thousands, and that the Alfheimeans that have come...it is the Prince of Alfheim," Daphne whispered, as if she were too afraid to speak it aloud. Augusta cursed her breath, shaking her head.
"I did not expect...I knew that he was a factor. After all, he took back Godric's Hollow. But, he is powerful enough for a Slytherin to ally herself with. What else does she know of him?" Augusta asked.
But, Daphne's brow was furrowed as she parsed through the information she had heard. Neville watched her carefully as her lips shaped around words only she could understand. She jerked as if shocked and looked up again.
"She says...that he is the most beautiful creature she has ever seen and that he has something...a great lizard with wings. She does not know the word," Daphne whispered.
"A dragon?" Neville gasped.
Augusta shook her head. "It couldn't be. Dragons are extinct," Augusta said with such finality but, Neville could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
"What is dead may never die," Neville reminded her and Augusta looked suitably shaken. Good. She thought he was a fool, and maybe he was, but he wouldn't let her become one too. Augusta was the mind. She had to stay sharp. "We must concern ourselves, first and foremost, with what happens in these walls. We are not safe here. Our safety is the primary concern."
Daphne nodded in agreement and she finally pulled her hands free from the water. She grabbed her wand. "Evanesco."
The water Vanished and Daphne cracked her knuckles and neck, humming to herself. She still looked uncertain but she nodded at Neville's words.
"The King has requested to break his late fast with me. I must go," Daphne said, standing up and smoothing her cloak.
"Let us see what you're wearing," Augusta said, firmly.
Daphne pulled apart her cloak, showing off the sea green gossamer cloth that wrapped around her body, hugging her close, showing every line of her thin frame. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she arched her neck, showing off the silver and emeralds around the pale column of flesh and bone. She closed her cloak and nodded.
"Acceptable?" Daphne asked.
"Quite. Go break the late fast," Augusta said.
Daphne hesitated. "And Hermione? I do like her, Grandmother."
Augusta raised her eyebrow, loftily. "She must learn about war sometime, dear child. Perhaps, it is time for her to learn that not all wars are fought in armor."
ALL?
"Your Grace...Harry."
Harry and his council jerked, looking up at the man and woman that stood in the doorway. Harry's lips pulled into a soft smile as he looked at Cedric and Cho. He hadn't seen Cedric at all, yesterday. Tonks had insisted that dinner on his birthday be private, only for him, Tonks, Teddy, and the Weasleys. Tom had elected not to join, citing allergies to redheads, and had fucked off somewhere with Severus, Lucius, and the Lestranges. He had returned to fuck Harry into oblivion, though.
"Cedric, is something wrong?" Harry asked, his smile falling somewhat at the thought.
"We've come to a decision," Cho forced out, fighting to keep a pleasant smile on her face though Harry could see the stress at the corner of her eyes.
Harry stood, suddenly, his expression becoming serious. "Have you?" he asked, softly. "And your decision?"
"If we were to ally with you, would you support our endeavor for a loan with Gringotts?" Cho demanded to know. Harry nodded immediately.
"Absolutely. And Afallon will have exclusive trade with Alfheim until the war is done. Afallon is largely self-sufficient and overproduces," Harry said, firmly and Cho nodded as if she liked the idea of it.
"You would be willing to sign a magical contract?" Cho asked.
"Yes. As long as your Prince signs it too," Harry said and finally, they all turned to look at Cedric who looked just as hesitant as he had when he first landed on Afallon.
Cedric stepped forward, watching Harry carefully, as if he'd never seen him before. Harry winced under the close examination. Men didn't look at him that way, like they were trying to see his insides, examine all of his faults and his sins. Only Tom had ever looked at him that way, too close, so close that it burned.
"Have you never celebrated your birthday?" Cedric asked.
Harry flinched. "I...no," Harry said, quietly. He looked down, hating that they were speaking about this at a war council meeting but, it was necessary.
"Why?" Cedric demanded.
"You have no right to ask him—" Ginny barked.
"It's fine," Harry interrupted, shaking his head. He smiled. "Because I lived with three Muggles that despised me. I barely knew my birthday until I was eight. I've never gotten a cake or a 'happy birthday' before. That's why I couldn't join you for dinner yesterday but, I gather you knew that."
"Aye," Cedric said, quietly. He looked at Harry and nodded, as if he liked what he saw. "You have a good heart."
"I try very hard to. It's hard sometimes. You know?" Harry asked because he truly thought Cedric did know. And Cedric nodded like he understood Harry too well.
"We are both leaders, far too young to be leaders," Cedric murmured and Harry nodded again. "My Adored Ones...they do not agree with my assessment. They think you are reckless and they are still afraid of you. But, your people are not. They love you. Fiercely. You walk amongst them, speak to them. You love them and they love you back."
"And I love them. I do. I really, really do. I'd die for them," Harry said, so staunchly that Cho nearly took a step back under the weight of his stare. "I'd die for them."
"You have a good heart," Cedric repeated. "And they will see that. They will you for what you are. We will help you, Harry Wildfyre. We will come to your aide and fight until our dying breaths because you are not fighting for your birthright. You are fighting for what's right."
And Harry smiled his brilliant smile and said, "Thank you."
:::
A/N: Another chapter done! I've worked on this chapter for the past 5 hours to get it on time, hahaha. It was a super stressful week! But, it's all here now! I'm ready to hear what you all have to say about this strange, kinda meandering chapter. I'm not a big fan of this chapter because it really focuses on one area and I want a few more POVs but, that's all coming next chapter so I'm not too upset. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! THANK YOU AND PLEASE REVIEW!