Chapter 9:
"Khriss,
"I have used Imagination's Perpendicularity – known colloquially as the Vault of Dreams – to reach Earth. The situation is far worse than we feared. Equality has been splintered, and it was definitely done by Odium judging by the residue he left behind. Imagination has sealed himself away for a reason I cannot discern. Equality's Investiture on Earth, Enchantment, has become unstable as a result. An axial tilt between magic of good and evil intent has caused mass conflict across the planet, and inequality amongst its users runs rampant. Imagination seems to have turned a blind eye, and people here are draining power from him directly seemingly without his notice. If Odium escapes his prison on Braise, he will find this world very easy to subjugate.
I will send word soon, there is something else I want to investigate before I return."
Author Unknown.
The sun flashed green. Harry's jaw fell open. And here I thought I'd seen everything after the Goblins.
"Well that's not creepy at all," He said hesitantly.
"The axial tilt. That's bad timing," Alicia said, shaking her head.
"Oh, hell yeah. I'm not putting myself in for the tournament now," Angelina said, staring at the sun as it sank towards the horizon.
"Um, for the newbie?"
"The axial tilt," Ginny began, her arm still entwined with his, "it's kind of like the worlds morality alignment. It shifts randomly between good and evil, causing light or dark magic to be stronger than the other. Has for hundreds of years."
"The last tilt was…"
"about a year and a half ago now," the twins said, their expressions grim. All their humour had vanished. Harry shivered. He realised he was imagining things, but the idea that the Earth itself had good days and bad days was actually comforting. No wonder he felt cold.
"Wait… does it affect normal people too? Like, non-wizards?" He asked. Katie nodded.
"Dad says it does," Ginny explained, rubbing her hands together, "but there isn't much research. Wizards don't really like associating with muggles."
"Huh," Harry said, doing the math in his head, "I suppose that would explain some things I've had trouble believing actually happened."
Harry, now feeling very disturbed, took a step in the direction of the castle. His foot crunched on the ground. He looked down, and his jaw went slack. There was frost on the blades of grass at his feet. He snapped his gaze back up, on edge. His breath misted in the air.
"Guys. Move back towards the castle. Now." He took command, pulling his arm from Ginny's. He pulled the static into his body, using it as fuel to repel the unnatural cold. The sun had begun to dip towards the horizon, but it held none of the warmth it had a second ago.
No one listened to him, they were all staring at the gates. Two figures were floating in the air above the wrought iron. They were hooded and cloaked, and both had an aura of decay and… and darkness… about them that made him want to vomit. They floated to the ground and began to move towards them.
"Go now!" He yelled, finally snapping everyone out of their dazes. They bolted up the hill towards the castle, Harry running backwards at the rear, eyes fixed on the two creatures. They were definitely not human. In fact, they almost felt…
He stopped dead, eyes going wide. They felt the same way that Mak did, only opposite. Instead of the life and creativity that Mak embodied, these creatures seemed to be manifest of death and decay. Dark-faeries? Were they even a thing?
DEMENTORS! CREATURES OF DEATH! LEAVE THIS PLACE, YOU CANNOT FIGHT THEM, HARRY. YOU ARE NOT READY YET!
Harry stumbled and almost fell flat on his face. What the fuck was that! Something had spoken directly into his head. No, someone. It had definitely been a woman's voice.
RUN, HARRY!
Harry, for the first time in living memory, did precisely as he was told. He scrambled to his feet, the Fusion Force making it easier blinking. He charged up the hill, catching up to the others as they approached the Covered Bridge. In the distance, he could see something appearing in the sky, but he didn't care. Four more of the creatures had appeared, and they were all advancing on him.
"Harry!" Ginny yelled, grabbing his shoulder.
"Go!" He yelled, pouring as much force of command into his voice as he could. Ginny's eyes were wide with fear, her skin pale. Fred and George grabbed her from behind, pulling her across the bridge.
Harry pulled on his power, the static surging within, and lifted his hands to the sky. Lightning arced from the air, four bolts striking each figure. They passed straight through, leaving scorch marks on the earth. He reversed gravity around the bridge. Rocks shot out of the ground and into the sky, but the Dementors continued without so much as rustling their cloaks. Harry, panicking now, pointed a single finger towards the closest one, and a bolt of super-hot black energy launched from his fingertip. Pure Decay Force. The creature phased through the beam as if it weren't even there. The ground at Harry's feet iced over.
He tried pushing them with Division. Nothing. He tried beams of light. Still nothing.
Of course, nothing is working! If they're like Mak, they aren't fully here. They're non-corporeal! Like… Like wraiths. That's it!
Harry, backing up onto the bridge, pushed his hands forward and called upon the last of his six forces. The least useful. And perhaps the most dangerous. The Life Force. White light pooled in his hands, and he thrust it forward. A wall of ethereal white light manifested around the bridge, and the Dementors were blasted back.
Harry ran. He decreased his friction using the Strength Force, and skidded along the wood, worn from centuries of foot traffic. He covered the entire length of the bridge in a matter of seconds. He dispersed his power as he reached the courtyard. The others were standing in the middle, heavy breathing, while Professor McGonagall was trying to get an explanation out of them. A few other students, stragglers back from Hogsmeade he guessed, were staring at him.
Harry took a deep breath, relieved, and started to walk towards them. Mak appeared in a burst of light, in full human-sized form – and judging by the reactions of the crowd, very visible – directly in front of him.
"Duck!" Harry dropped to the floor as Mak launched over his head. A Dementor flew up from the abyss, heading straight towards him. Mak cleaved the creature in half with her giant sword, and the Dementors corpse hit the ground, one half on either side of him. It turned to smoke, before vanishing into nothingness. Mak landed on one knee, sword extended. The bitter cold lifted, and Harry could finally breathe normally. Mak's form flickered, and the next second she was her regular size.
"What was that thing?" She said, fluttering over to him. He could see Ginny frantically whispering to Ember while Angelina filled McGonagall in on what had happened.
"Dementor. I heard a voice…"
"I know. I heard it too. It's how I knew you were in trouble."
"Do you know what it was?" Mak shook her head.
"But I do know this. That thing. It had a darkness, a feeling of destruction and ruin associated with it. Something I think I've felt before. It makes me want to vomit just saying it." She shivered, sat down on his shoulder, and said no more. He shook himself and made his way towards Professor McGonagall.
"And Harry created this wall of white and…"
"Thank you, Miss Johnson, I believe I know the rest." She turned towards Harry and sighed.
"Mr Potter. For rescuing several students from potential harm, I award you 100 points. Are you okay?"
"Right as rain," he lied.
McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. "Well. If you would then, I suggest you all make your way to the Great Hall before the delegations arrive. I will be having conversations with Albus. Dementors! Attacking students!" She continued muttering to herself as she walked away, and Harry realised with a jolt that she'd forgotten to place the shackle back on his wrist. In fact, he could see the silver metal hanging out of the satchel draped across her shoulder. He made a split-second decision. He reached out with the Fusion Force and tried to pull it towards him… Damn it! Bloody Aluminium.
"Ginny!" he hissed, "the bracelet!" Ginny gasped and spun towards McGonagall, seeing what Harry had. She pulled her wand and cast a spell.
"Accio," she whispered. The shackle shot out of McGonagall's bag as she rounded a corner into the castle and flew into Ginny's hand. They looked at each other and grinned.
"What do you suppose the voice meant?" Harry asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry's fan club had caught up with them as they headed for the hall. Tonight, it seemed that Ginny had to share Harry with Romilda Vane (a rather pretty first year) and Ginny's year mate Demelza – both of whom had glued themselves as tightly to his side as he could. Susan Bones was having quite the sulk at the Hufflepuff table after Harry had politely reminded her that she wasn't allowed to sit with the Gryffindors. It was from Romilda that they'd learned of Beauxbatons' flying carriage and Durmstrang's ship. Harry had started singing something along the lines of "drink up me hearties yo ho," or something equally as bizarre at the time. As usual, the girls continued talking to Harry even though he wasn't listening to them.
"I… I'm not sure. You say it sounded like a person?"
"The voice was a woman's. I'm sure of it. But yeah. She said that I wasn't ready to fight them yet. Is there something she wanted me to do? Why warn me? Or did I just imagine it?" He sighed. "Am I reading too much into this?"
"Maybe. But Dad always says to trust your gut, so if yours says this is important, don't ignore it." Harry nodded, seemingly pleased with that answer. Cormac McLaggen sidled in next to Ginny, though he didn't even acknowledge her. It still amazed her how readily people were willing to forget about their isolation of her for an entire year just because Harry was her friend now.
"So, Potter. I was watching the French students arrive before, and I swore I saw a Veela with them. I thought I might try and, you know, woo, her. I hear they're magnificent in the sheets. But, I figured, you're the top dog around here, and if anyone has dibs on a Veela it's you, so are you interested? Or am I all good?" He said it with his usual smug, superior accent, but you could see the nervousness in the way his foot tapped away on the stone floor. Ginny assumed that Harry would ignore McLaggen like most people did. She was proven, very wrong. As soon as he said the word Veela, Harry's head shot up. His face rolled through several emotions. Curiosity, intrigue and disgust, before finally settling back into his mask of charisma.
"A Veela hey Cormac?" Harry rubbed his chin, then he smirked.
"I'll tell you what. Wait until after the champion selection. If I haven't made a move by then, she's all yours." Ginny's face went bright red. Merlin. Was he actually interested? Had she been reading all the signs wrong? But, they went on a date. Did it mean nothing? Was he just going to throw her aside when a Veela came along? Cormac said something she didn't hear, before getting up and leaving. Harry gagged into his drink. Was that Rum?
"God that guys disgusting," Harry said, "I feel like I need to wash my mouth out after speaking to him." He leaned his elbows on the table.
"A Veela… that will be very interesting," he said. Ginny shivered almost as bad as she had when the Dementors had attacked them.
"Why?" she asked, her voice cracking. Harry looked her in the eye, and she thought he could lay her completely bare with that crystal gaze.
"Because I'll wager they can see Mak and Ember. Being of the faerie blood like the Goblins and all. I'm curious if they'll come over here. I certainly would." Ginny breathed a tiny sigh of relief.
The Durmstrang students began advancing into the hall, all of them wearing thick cloaks. Ginny gave a start when she realised that two extra tables had actually been added to the Hall. How had she not noticed that before? Regardless, the Durmstrang students, many of them staring at the enchanted ceiling with impressed looks on their faces, made their way to one of the empty tables and took their seats.
"I cannot believe Victor Krum is here," Katie said dreamily, "He'll be champion for sure."
"Whose Vector Crumbs?" Harry asked.
"Victor Krum. He's only, like, the greatest seeker to ever live," Ron said, somehow appearing two seats down from Harry. He looked as wistful as Katie did. Ginny frowned. Actually, this was the closest Ron had been to Ginny of his own free will in a very long time. Though he still wouldn't look at her. Progress was progress she supposed.
"I take it that's a sports thing?" Harry asked. Judging by the cringe on his face as several people around him gasped, he'd realised rather quickly the trap he'd just walked into.
"Harry! Haven't we explained Quidditch to you yet!?" Katie exclaimed, horrified.
"There's no backing out of this now is there?" Harry tried. Ginny shrugged at him. Then, she winked slyly.
"Just don't believe anything Ron says about the Cannons."
"Hey! The Cannons are going to make a come back soon. Just you watch!" Harry was no longer listening. He was staring at the hall entrance. Ginny suddenly felt an inextricable sensation to do the same thing. It was almost as though a magnet were pulling her. She swivelled, Ember jumping up into the air – seemingly feeling the same impulse. The Beauxbatons students wore shades of blue, and their robes appeared to be made of silk – not a very good choice given Scottish weather. They too had their own table. But Ginny's gaze had been drawn to the woman at the front of the procession. Tall, with silver hair and a bearing that just screamed 'I'm better than you', she had to be the Veela. She walked past them without so much as a glance, taking a seat at the empty table. Ginny furrowed her brows, turning – with no small degree of effort, back to Harry. He was having a whispered discussion with Mak. The faerie nodded and flew off. Harry then pulled his Charms textbook out of his pocket (where the hell had he gotten that?) and began to make notes in the margins with his muggle clicky pen.
"Follow her," Ginny hissed to Ember. She too vanished.
The Halloween Feast was as full of sweets and odd delicacies as ever. Ginny, ignoring the tugging on her brain trying to force her to stare at the Veela woman, distracted herself with Pumpkin Soup. Harry refused to eat – "I spent fourteen years of my life eating stolen or scavenged food. I'm not going to start gorging on candy apples now." She couldn't particularly blame that reasoning, so she let him be for just this once. Halfway through dinner, the thumping in Ginny's head reached a crescendo.
"Heads up!" Ember called, drifting on the wind beside her. Ginny looked up just in time to see the Veela girl – who must have been seventeen at least – appear behind Harry. Mak had returned to his shoulder and was whispering to him in a hushed tone. All conversation stopped instantly.
Harry didn't look up, continuing to scribble away at his book.
"Je me demandais quand vous arriveriez."
Ginny's eyes went almost as wide as the woman's did. Harry spoke French? If he grew up on the street, where did he have time to learn French?
"Tu parles français ?"
The woman sounded shocked. Judging by the faces of those around her, they were just as confused as Ginny was.
"Évidemment."
Harry still hadn't looked up from his book. Mak, however, had landed on the table and was now staring at the Veela. She didn't seem to be able to see her. Everyone was staring at them now.
"Je m'appelle Fleur."
"Enchante."
Harry evidently made a mistake of some sort at this point, because 'Fleur' frowned slightly. Or perhaps it was her version of a scowl, Ginny couldn't be sure. Demelza and Romilda did not look like they wanted to move from their prized seats.
"Pourquoi as-tu pensé que j'allais venir à toi ?" Ginny didn't know what she said, but the tone was very much a demand. Finally, Harry looked the woman in the eyes.
"You've been flaring your Veela allure since you walked in the door, and I was the only person in the room who didn't care. Now you're curious who I am." This time he spoke in English, and everyone understood the implication. Ginny realised, with a great deal of shock, that she'd actually been affected too. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. At least she had more willpower than Ron, who had a little bit of spittle on the side of his mouth. His friends Seamus and Dean were little better.
"I am Harry Potter. I had thought that we would be friends. Evidently not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do need to get back to my work." He turned back to his book and turned the page. Fleur, a look of outrage mixed with embarrassment on her face, stormed away. No one had the gall to laugh at her.
Ginny, though she realised it was petty, felt far better about herself now that the Veela girl had proven herself to be rude and big-headed. The fact that Harry could throw off a full blasted Veela Allure also made her feel quite good about herself. Maybe she had a chance after all.
"Why couldn't she see the faeries?" she whispered.
Harry pursed his lips, frowning.
"I don't know. It might be about belief." He didn't say anymore.
Eventually, as dessert appeared, conversation resumed. Though the conversation around her was still about Harry (with the addition of the fact that he had the power to throw off the Veela allure at will to his magnificence), he was no longer actually in the conversation. Ginny wasn't sure what she should say to him, so remained silent. At least, until someone new pierced her – if reduced in size – bubble of isolation. A girl wearing Beauxbatons robes, the same age as Ginny, with the same silver hair as Fleur, sat down next to her and grabbed a plate of souffle.
"Je suis désolé pour ma sœur, Monsieur Harry," she said with a musical voice. She pronounced Harry's name without the 'h', which Ginny found slightly infuriating. Ember floated in front of the girl's face, staring at her inquisitively. This girl looked directly at Ember.
"Bonjour, sœur de sang. Je suis Gabrielle…" She paused in her speech, blushing slightly. Then she took a deep breath, bowing her head.
"E sur Gabriellprir deso Vella," she said the words very hesitantly, as if worried she'd spoken them wrong. Mak beamed, and Ember looked shocked. Then, seemingly without thinking, she bowed her own head and said,
"Pal se Pathere fav tu, Garbriellprir. E sur Ember, masellas de tastheria." Ginny got the feeling they'd stopped talking in French and had switched to the faerie language. A language she hadn't known Ember spoke. Apparently, Ember hadn't known that either, because she gasped in surprise as the words came out. Then she stood up proudly, zoomed over to Mak, and started dancing up and down.
"I remembered, I remembered! Just like you said!"
"Please for the love of Merlin can we speak English?" I don't understand a word anyone has said for the past ten minutes," Ginny begged. Harry laughed, and the girl had the decency to blush. This, of course, forced Ginny to study the girls face.
For starters, she was far too beautiful for her age. Those violet eyes seemed to sparkle – not unlike Harry's did sometimes (maybe it had to do with faerie blood? Did her eyes sparkle?). Her skin was pale, with a soft silver glow to it like moonlight, and her lips were rosy red. Ginny's 'chance of snogging Harry-o-metre' plummeted into the Black Lake.
"My name's Gabrielle. Fleur is my sister. I'm sorry about her. It's no excuse for being rude, but she has been under a lot of pressure lately." Oh, Merlin's saggy left testicle. This girl was a Veela too. Fabulous. Would she ever catch a break?
"Oh, don't worry. I wasn't exactly polite either. I'm Harry, this is Ginny, and these two lovely ladies are Mak and Ember," Harry said, putting away his book and smiling at the silver-haired bombshell. Ginny resisted the urge to pout.
"Nice to meet you all," Gabrielle said, a look of relief crossing her features. Ginny suddenly wanted to hex herself. Here she was, being jealous and self-deprecating, and this girl whom she didn't even know, had just plucked up the courage to come and apologise to a celebrity for her sister's behaviour, then speak to a mythological creature in a language that wasn't her own. She felt ashamed of herself.
"Nice to meet you, Gabrielle," Ginny said, trying to redeem herself.
Gabrielle turned that dazzling smile on her now, and Ginny couldn't help smiling back. Damn but that grin was infectious.
"So, um, forgive me if I'm like totally out of line, but how do you have faeries?!" Gabrielle asked, gesturing to the two glowing figures.
"Shhhh!" Harry and Ginny snapped. Gabrielle blushed.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Dumbledore interrupted anything they might have said next by standing up. Gabrielle bade them a quick farewell, and Harry told her she was welcome to speak to him any time she liked, then she slipped back across the aisle to her own table.
Ginny only vaguely listened to what Dumbledore had to say about the Goblet of Fire (which she supposed was impressive) and how the champions would be selected. Ember, however, was watching with rapt attention. Mak and Harry had occupied themselves with a boat of caramel. Harry was dipping his finger into it, then holding out the gold-covered appendage to Mak, who greedily gathered the dripping caramel into her own hands, before slurping at it.
Finally, the Headmaster finished his speech and dispersed the crowd to their dormitories. Ginny followed Harry up the stairs, eager to reach her cupboard under the stairs for a well-deserved sleep. It had been a long day.
Authors Notes:
Wow! Thanks so much for all the support you guys. It really does mean so much to know you guys understand. Double thanks for all the congratulations and well wishes.
To all our guest reviewers, thanks for your reviews. As our regulars will tell you, we usually reply in-depth to your questions and theories. But we can't do that if you aren't signed in. It takes only five minutes and is super easy.
On the use of language:
The Faerie language was invented by us and is a derivative of Latin. We will not be providing you with a cypher. Sorry. That being said, here's some translations.
"E sur Gabriellprir deso Vella." – "I am Gabrielle of the Veela."
'-prir' is an honorific used for underage women.
'-pren' is a gender neutral honorific used for strangers.
"Pal se Pathere fav tu, Garbriellprir. E sur Ember, masellas de tastheria." – "May the father favour you, Gabrielle. I am Ember, daughter of Imagination."
"teneb-ira." A deregulatory slur that implies that a person has evil intent. Direct translation: "dark-one."
French Translations:
"Je me demandais quand vous arriveriez." – "I was wondering when you would show up/arrive."
"Tu parles français ?" – "You speak French?"
"Évidemment." – "Evidently/Obviously."
"Je m'appelle Fleur." – "My name is Fleur."
"Enchante." – "Enchanted." A word used to reply to an introduced person, typically followed by a self-introduction.
"Pourquoi as-tu pensé que j'allais venir à toi ?" – "Why did you think I would come to you?"
"Je suis désolé pour ma sœur, Monsieur Harry." – "I'm sorry for my sister, Monsieur Harry."
"Bonjour, sœur de sang. Je suis Gabrielle…" – "Hello/Greetings, sister of blood. I am Gabrielle…"
