Chapter 27
Meeting Allies
A hatch opening above his head roused Harry from his deep meditation.
He had spent sixteen hours a day meditating ever since Nicolai had asked him to participate in a strike against Yamato, three days ago. He had felt that every additional power he could discover within himself could help him accomplish his mission more easily. Excluding the gift of Parseltongue—which had presumably been the result of Harry and Wolfe's violent separation upon destroying Korumu's stone—Wolfe had discovered nine powers granted to them through Novoridu's pendants, whereas Harry had slacked off a bit and stopped after discovering his ability to turn himself invisible, leaving his count of discovered powers at five.
Wolfe had discovered that he possessed magically enhanced senses of taste, touch, smell, and hearing, which could be counted as four separate powers. Aside from the granted ability to boost those senses far beyond the perception of even the animals that possessed the sharpest senses in each category, Wolfe's senses had been able to perceive magic. Wizard-kind hadn't even known that enchantments had scents, and that enchanted objects emitted low frequency magical resonance that allowed him to smell, taste, hear, and feel the magic. Much more had been known about magical sight, which Harry possessed, and could be mimicked to a certain extent by magical eyes. Of course, Harry's magic eyesight was much more accurate and versatile than even the best magical eyes were. It was almost as if he had a pair of Sentinel Globes in his head.
The four enhanced senses aside, Wolfe had discovered the ability to drastically change his size, the Animagus ability with seemingly no limit to the animal forms that could be taken, the ability to multiply himself into an army, superhuman strength, and the Metamorphmagus ability, according to what Hermione had told him after he had arrived in the Mirror Realm. Aside from the magical eyesight, Harry had only discovered invisibility, intangibility, flight, and the ability to cast magic through his eyes like surrogate wands. But his meditation had paid off, for he had discovered two new powers.
It was Aberforth who had opened the hatch, and the old wizard was peering down at him. He had insisted on coming with Harry, sending his wife Louise back to the Earth Realm with instructions to look after Heidi, whom the dotty old woman had begun to mistake for one of her murdered great-granddaughters at some point. Of course, Aberforth had known very well that Heidi would probably end up looking after Louise, but that had been the whole point. Without some kind of distraction, the grief would hit Heidi that much harder.
"Cloud Jumper says we're above Floriath," Aberforth said.
Harry blinked while his eyes grew accustomed to the light shining though the aperture. "The main resistance camp?" He levitated himself through the open hatch before unfolding his legs and placing them on the deck.
"Yes, though we can't see anything through the mist. But Cloud Jumper's been here before, and she remembers, so there's no reason to doubt it, is there?"
"When do we land?"
"That's our current dilemma. Cloud Jumper doesn't know if the druids who allowed her to land in the past told their successors about the Shamballah Emperors' flying ships. If they did, there's still the problem of whether or not the vines are able to recognise Cloud Jumper's specific profile, since the Duchess of Astirian apparently has a few flying ships as well, some of which she used to probe the resistance camp's defences. Cloud Jumper doesn't fancy being attacked by the vines. It could be safe, since Max told the resistance fighters to expect Nicolai soon, but he didn't tell them about our mode of transportation."
"Why do I get the feeling that this is where I'll be asked to stick my neck out?" Harry grumbled.
Aberforth's eyes shimmered with the Dumbledore twinkle. "If I had the ability to fly and to render myself intangible, I'd be more than happy to assume the role of herald myself. Alas, this is sadly not the case. Just imagine the things I could do—but I digress."
Harry heaved a sigh. "Should I conjure one of those long trumpets to announce Nicolai's arrival? You know, one of those with a banner hanging on it?"
"I believe a horn of some sort was traditionally used to announce the arrival of emperors in the past, so that may be more appropriate in this case."
"I wasn't being serious"—he paused, noticing that the twinkle was still present in Aberforth's eyes—"and you weren't serious either."
"I cherish my sense of humour, my boy. There are already far too many bitter old men out there."
"True enough," Harry replied, as he began to walk towards the small cabin at the back of the ship.
"Did you discover any new powers, Harry?" Janos Gaal called out to him from the helm. The retired Artificer Ranger had volunteered to accompany Nicolai and Harry in case the ship were damaged during the mission and would need some quick repair work.
Harry stuck up two fingers to signal the discovery of two new powers.
Gaal shot him a praising smile. "See how quickly you learn things if you apply yourself!"
"Which powers did you discover?" Aberforth asked.
"First I discovered the ability to understand languages. I suppose it's like the Lingomagus ability. Then I discovered … I can't really explain it." Harry stopped in mid-stride and motioned for Aberforth to stop walking. "Stay there. I'll show you what this power is."
He placed his hands together and concentrated. Then he pushed his hands forward, causing the air in front of him to ripple and his hands to disappear as if he were putting them under an invisibility cloak. He separated his hands, creating a hole in the air through which he could see Aberforth's surprised face. Reaching into the hole, Harry grabbed Aberforth's beard even though the old wizard was five feet away and to the side instead of directly in front him. Glancing sideways, Harry saw his hands sticking out of thin air, holding Aberforth by the beard.
"That's a neat trick. You've created a portal of sorts, right?" Nicolai's voice sounded behind him.
Harry released Aberforth's beard, pulled his hands back through the hole and willed it to close. Then he turned to Nicolai, who was walking towards him. "I reckon that's as good a description as any. I've experimented some. I can only make it about six-and-a-half by two-and-a-half feet."
"Enough for you to pass through comfortably," Nicolai remarked. "It would probably be a tight squeeze for me, though."
Harry concurred. Nicolai was about six feet and four inches tall, and incredibly broad-shouldered. "You could ease in sideways."
"Can someone other than you pass through it?" Aberforth asked.
"I think so."
"Let us put it to the test," Aberforth suggested. "Make us a portal, and I'll go through."
"Did you have any particular destination in mind?" Harry asked. "Bear in mind that I can only make a portal to somewhere I've been before."
"Can you make a portal to the Earth Realm?" Nicolai asked.
Harry shook his head. "I tried, but it was like trying to press my fingers through a concrete wall."
"What does it normally feel like?"
"Pudding."
"Interesting. Well, for the purpose of this exercise you needn't go very far. Can you make it so Aberforth ends up on the bridge?"
Harry pressed his hands together and pushed forward, his fingers sinking into the fabric of space and time. Then he separated his hands, creating a hole through which the back of Janos Gaal could be seen. Then he willed the hole to grow to full size and held it open for Aberforth to pass through.
"Does it take a lot of concentration?"
Harry shrugged. "About as much as treading water. I have to keep my mind on it, but it's not like it prevents me from doing anything else."
"Here I go," Aberforth said, experimentally poking through an arm. When that seemed to have gone all right, he quickly followed with the rest of his body.
Harry turned to look at the bridge and saw Aberforth grinning broadly.
"Does it only work one way, or can he come back?" Nicolai asked.
"It was two-way for me, so I reckon it works the same way for everything else."
"I can hear your voices coming from behind and in front of me!" Aberforth said excitedly. Then he stepped back through the portal, up amidships once again.
"This opens up a world of possibilities," Nicolai said pensively, and Harry imagined the many cogs in his head turning and clicking as he absorbed the information. "How far a place do you think you can open a portal to?"
"I opened a portal to the Immortal's Circle," Harry said. He had opened a portal to the dwelling Merlin had built, peeking in to see how things looked. There had been signs of fairly recent habitation, but Harry had fought the urge to create a portal large enough to step through and find out who had moved in.
"That's on the other side of the Mirror Realm." A smile began to appear on Nicolai's face. "And how long can you maintain a portal?"
"I don't know. It doesn't feel very taxing."
"Would you care to find out?"
"I wouldn't mind trying, but wasn't I supposed to fly down and make contact with the resistance fighters?"
Nicolai smiled and shook his head apologetically. "Sorry. I was getting a bit ahead of myself. You're right, of course. Contacting the resistance has a higher priority."
"So where is this encampment?"
"It should be right beneath us."
"Right. And what do I say once I get down there?"
"You identify yourself and ask for the Druids, who've got to give us clearance to land. Once I'm down there, I expect I'll be the one doing most of the talking, though I'll need you to be close by." He dug around in his pocket and extracted two tiny translation earpieces. "Offer one to the being in charge. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change. Clothes do make the make man up to a certain point when it comes to making first impressions."
"You need an addition to your current attire too." Aberforth said, nodding towards Harry.
Harry looked down at his emerald green clothing. He too had known that it wouldn't hurt to look good at the meeting with the resistance encampment, so he had saved the outfit for today. Regina had made it for him, and it was basically a Ranger uniform made from different fabric and having a different colour. The spider silk felt incredibly comfortable and luxurious, but like his uniform, the cut was sober and martial, and the colour was dark. It wouldn't look gaudy among people who were likely to be wearing rough spun homemade clothes. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Nothing. However, I though that wearing this might help you make an impression." The old wizard produced Wolfe's Phoenix Katana from beneath his outer robe.
Harry began reaching for the proffered sword, but his arm froze halfway. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Wolfe may have told them that he wasn't coming back, but they might still be clinging to some hope. Seeing me with the sword will dash that hope pretty violently. It could be very bad for morale if they spot the sword hanging on my belt."
"Perhaps," Aberforth said, after taking a moment to contemplate what Harry had said.
"Maybe Nicolai ought to pass it onto me officially after I've shown the people what I can do. It'll give them the opportunity to deem me worthy. It'll be like me taking over the torch from Wolfe."
Another moment of silence followed, and though it was hard to discern, Harry saw Aberforth smirking under his beard.
"What?"
"You've often said that you're not fit to be a leader. If you were to place yourself in my shoes, you'd see that it isn't true. You might not seek leadership, Harry, but good leaders seldom do." He slid the sword back into a ring on his belt and drew the outer robe back in place, concealing the weapon once again. Then he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "You may go make your grand entrance now."
Harry shot him a mock-salute before lifting off the deck and diving towards the murky fog that shrouded the forest. As he drew closer, he activated his magically enhanced sight in an attempt to see through the fog, getting far less penetration than he had anticipated, which led him to the assume that the fog had to be produced by magic. Taking an extra precaution, he rendered himself intangible before plunging into the murky whiteness.
A few seconds after his entry, he saw a pair of vines extending up to meet him. They stopped short a few feet before touching him and receded slowly, which sparked Harry's curiosity. He reached out to the vines with his thoughts to check for sentience and ended up being confronted with an overload of information similar to the times when he'd failed to block out Nicolai. But the type of intelligence was different from Nicolai's. It was more reliant on instincts and sensory input.
The fog thinned into a fine mist as Harry descended, and he finally saw what lay beneath. The place was certainly large enough to be a small town, though its design hinted that it had been built with a different purpose in mind. The largest building was unmistakably a temple, and the crop fields and orchards surrounding it suggested that it was meant to be self sufficient. But as impressive as the temple complex was, it didn't match the enormous trees hugging the twenty foot walls surrounding the complex. They were many times larger than the largest trees in the Earth Realm, appearing to be about five hundred feet tall and two hundred feet at the thickest part of their trunk. Several platforms had been constructed between the enormous branches of the trees, some of which held small buildings of their own.
The stunned expressions and pointing fingers of the people on the tree platforms told Harry that he'd been spotted, and he suddenly felt as self-conscious as he had during his first few flights over Concordia. He righted himself in the air and descended the rest of the way down feet first, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him. He touched down among a group of tall and furry hominids that looked torn between running away in panic or falling to their knees in worship, leading Harry to believe that he might have overdone his regal descent.
He swept his gaze over the people around him, looking for someone who looked like one of the druids or someone with a modicum of authority. He settled on a trio of Etti women clad in muddy brown robes, who were striding his way purposefully. As they drew closer, he saw that they were each a breeding generation apart. The eldest could be the mother of the middle one and grandmother to the youngest one. The furry hominids surrounding him parted respectfully for the trio as they approached, and the eldest woman stopped an arm length away.
Harry produced the two translators and held them up in front of her on an open palm. Then he plucked one out of his palm and demonstrated its use by carefully putting it in his ear, before offering her the other one. She took the tiny translator and followed his example.
"We ought to be able to speak to each other now," he began.
A look of amazement appeared on the old woman's face. "It would appear so," she replied carefully.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Harry Potter. Maximilian Wolfe was brother to me, in spirit if not in blood."
"I am Rell," the woman replied. "They are Shen and Ferra," she added, gesturing in turn to the middle-aged and the young woman. "The forest sensed the touch of a half-Nalhati in you. It also sensed a blood kinship to one of our former residents."
Harry nodded, gloom settling over him as he recalled what her inevitable fate would be. "My daughter."
"Maximilian had the same troubled look upon her departure."
Harry briefly pondered whether or not to explain, and decided that it couldn't do any harm at this point. "Because he knew her fate. After she left here, she ventured into the past and ended up saving my life. A year later, she gave the last bit of her essence to save my wife's life. And moments before she did so, she saved the lives of both Maximilian and myself." He sighed. "It must have been hard for him to see her so blissfully unaware of her fate. But it also must have been hard for her to keep her silence in the past."
"We know all about Holly's riding of the winds of time. I met her when I was Shen's age. She is the one who convinced my mother to give the resistance sanctuary."
Harry had a feeling that the position was hereditary, and he nodded to the two younger druids, who looked remarkably like progressively younger versions of Rell. "Are they your daughter and granddaughter, then?"
She shook her head. "They are my sisters. We may look like Etti, but we are not. We are a part of this marsh. She is our mother, and before she became this marsh to protect the secrets of Floriath, she was a Nalhati named Sharu."
Harry instinctively glanced at the soil he was standing on. "So this is how I have been identified."
"Sharu could sense you, as she can sense the imperial ship above us."
"Well, Emperor Savin didn't know for sure whether his ship would be recognised, which is why I came down first. If you would excuse me for a moment, I'll get the message to him." He concentrated, picturing the bridge where Janos Gaal was standing. Then he reached forwards and pried a hole into the air in front of him. Gaal's startled face stared back at him from the hole.
The aging Hungarian wizard regained his composure quickly. "I see you got down safely."
"You've got clearance to land. Come on down."
"I know it sounds funny, but I'm more worried about the Muggles than the vampires," Ethan Johnson muttered. Being a Muggle-born wizard familiar with the area, he had been drafted to assist in Operation Lucky Break. "Damn it! Why couldn't the ersatz exercises take place in the sewers? It's safer down there."
"How so?" Ron asked, finding it hard to believe that Muggles could be more dangerous than vampires.
"Dad's from Chicago, and he grew up around here. My grandmother still lives here. This is hardcore gang territory. They operate all over the city, but here's where they're really strong. They've been around since the nineteen fifties. If they see your pale British arse on the streets at this hour, we'll get some unwelcome attention for sure. Why couldn't you white boys at least have drunk some Polyjuice to fit in better around here?"
Ron shook his head. "Vampires can smell the altered body chemistry miles away."
"No worries," Maaike's disembodied voice said. "If I see people look at you in a funny way, I'll cast a Confundus and Obliviate cocktail."
"How are we doing, C?" Ron muttered into his communicator, hoping to get a decent update form Clara da Silva, who was keeping track of all of them on her screens.
"They're a block away, and still underground. Pick up your pace a little. Their lead is growing."
"Have they split up yet?"
"All of them are still together."
"Any chance you can direct another team over to the spot they'll emerge?"
"You know there can't be any semblance of co-ordination," Clara chided over the transmission.
"Easy to say for those who won't be facing nineteen bloodsuckers with only a wand."
"Relax, we'll watch your back," Nestor Gaitan said. "Nothing to worry about," he added, and as if to prove his point, he began to sing. "As the snow flies… On a cold and grey Chicago morning a poor little baby child was born in the ghettoooo…"
"If you keep singing that we will have something to worry about pretty soon," Johnson hissed. "The walls have ears around here."
"Take a right at the next corner, gentlemen and lady," Clara said suddenly. "It looks like the vampires are slowing down. Yes, some are going to the surface. And you might want to walk a little faster. There are some Muggles nearby. Five of them. They could be prey."
"The vamps are in for an unpleasant surprise. Any Muggles out at this hour are likely to be armed," Johnson said, as he lengthened his steps.
"Their weapons won't do any good against vampires." Maaike's disembodied voice said. "It'll only piss them off."
"An update, please," Ron whispered into his communicator after some thirty seconds have passed.
"I've acquired a visual," Clara reported. "Hey, that's odd. The vampires aren't behaving as if they're about to attack, and the Muggles seem to have some odd trunks with them. It looks like those things they use to keep things at the right temperature."
"Maybe the vampires are drinking from straws instead of necks tonight," Maaike suggested.
Ron frowned. "What?"
"Blood bags, taken from people and preserved for later use in special containers. If they don't want to leave a trail of bloodless corpses that attract unwanted wizard attention, it makes sense," Maaike explained.
The explanation cleared things up for Ron. "Right, Muggles don't have Blood-Replenishing potion."
"Maaike was right," Clara said. "One of the vampires is inspecting the merchandise. He's … having a taste?"
"Why would he do that? How are the Muggles reacting to that?" Maaike asked.
"They don't seem surprised."
"If Muggles know about vampires, they must know about us too," Ron concluded. "How could the local magical authorities allow this to happen? Clara, is Citadel CC getting this?"
"Yes."
"Then have them try and identify those Muggles. Narrow it down to the identities of people related to witches and wizards to the second degree or better."
"You think they're related to wizards?"
"Probably not all of them, but I have a hunch that the leader might be. After we finished school, Hermione's parents wanted to start a support group for people with Magical children, but they were discouraged on grounds of an increased risk of the wizarding world's exposure. Anyway, the Muggles who are dealing with the vampires right now obviously don't have the good intentions my in-laws did. Convincing the other Muggles not related to wizards of our existence would have been easy enough with wizarding photos. Do you know how many Muggles are Obliviated every year because people are careless with their photos?"
"But why would they deal with vampires?" Gaitan asked.
"The Muggles can clandestinely supply blood in a way that helps the vampires avoid having to hunt and leave traces of their presence. The vampires are in contact with the wizarding world and can supply magical artefacts. We know that these vampires are likely in league with a rogue artificer, who is adept at creating these magical artefacts. And the reason the local magical authority doesn't know about it is because the Muggles must know about our ability to modify their memories, so they keep their activities under wraps."
"There's a flaw in your theory. Hunting is how vampires get their jollies. The thrill of the hunt and the kill is the only substitute they've got for the sex they can no longer have. Why would they give that up?" Gaitan asked.
"Maybe they do hunt from time to time, but they never do it near their current lair. The easy access to Portkeys they have makes it simple for them to do this," Ron suggested. "And the blood they're buying is used to still their hunger and decrease the frequency of those hunts, making it even more unlikely that they're discovered."
"It would be difficult to cover up the presence of nineteen vampires virtually anywhere." Gaitan nodded. "The amount of blood so many of them need to nourish themselves would lead to noticeable disappearances even in a city as large as this one."
"Get ready," Clara warned. "They are just around the corner. Remember, act surprised. Defend yourself and destroy a few of them when they attack, and when they get reinforcements from the sewers, get out."
Ron's heart began to pound faster. How he would have liked to be holding his wand already. But that would give away that the confrontation hadn't been a coincidence.
The five Muggles and three vampires momentarily froze when they saw the Rangers, but the moment was all too brief, and soon the vampires jumped at the Rangers. Ron didn't think he had ever drawn his wand as quickly as he had just now, but Gaitan had still been faster. Sunlight streamed out of his wand, scorching the advancing vampires and sending them scurrying for cover. Two of them scrambled along a wall and onto a roof, while the other took cover behind a large metal garbage container.
Even though the vampires had been repelled, Ron saw that the Muggles were still dangerous. They had drawn their firearms and were taking aim, so Ron levelled his wand at the most convenient target and let loose a stunner, causing the Muggle to be thrown back a few feet and land in an unconscious heap. This distracted another one of the Muggles long enough for Ron to stun him as well, and two stunners originating from behind Ron felled a third and fourth Muggle.
"Take cover!" Johnson shouted, and Ron would have liked to indulge him, save for the fact that upon entering the alley he had seen that there was precious little cover. Acting almost on an instinct borne by intensive training as a Ranger, he conjured a concrete pillar in front of himself just in time to stop a hail of bullets from the Muggle's firearm. However, he knew that he couldn't stay hidden there forever, since the vampires might attack again or the Muggle could move forward to get a better firing angle. Fortunately, Ranger training came through yet again when Maaike made the most of her invisibility to stun the shooting Muggle.
Despite the fact that the unexpected Muggle interference had prevented the Rangers from destroying any of the vampires, Ron was about to order the Rangers to Disapparate to a predetermined location. But Clara da Silva's voice cut in before he could do so. "Assume a defensive formation. An anti-Apparition hex has just been cast over your location, and the remaining vampires are converging on your position. The primary mission goal has been scrubbed. To hell with appearances. Help is on the way."
"If you've got your gems, put them on your wands," Ron said, while he patted his pockets in search of his red spinel.
"We can't—" Nestor Gaitan began, but Ron interrupted him.
"Sunlight spells are no problem. Trust me!"
Nicolai had warned against using the gem-enhanced wands in the Earth Realm, since it was very likely that any spell cast in the Earth Realm while the wand was tipped with a gemstone would be nearly impossible to reverse. But he had also said that spells where no target was affected—like producing light or a stream of water from the wand—were safe to cast, although the light spell would probably be blinding and the jet of water would be like one coming out of a high pressure hose.
"Damn it, there they're all around us!" Johnson groaned just as Ron's hand closed around the gem.
"Hold them off," Ron said. "I need a few seconds…"
Johnson, Gaitan and Maaike stood around Ron, facing outward in a triangle. Then there was a shriek that caused Ron to fumble and drop his gemstone, and he swore under his breath as he groped around the darkened pavement to retrieve it. He heard screams of agony coming from the vampires while he searched for his gemstone, and after a few seconds everything was quiet once again.
"What the—?" he heard Johnson say, though his tone was one of surprise.
"You may put your wands away now," a resounding voice said.
"Up there!" Maaike said, prompting Ron to look himself. He followed Maaike's gaze and found a trio of figures floating in thin air. Or rather, two of them were floating, while one of the floating ones held an unconscious female vampire up by her hair.
"I am not your enemy, Rangers. Perhaps you have heard of me. I am The Confessor. Forgive the fact that I am wearing a balaclava," the figure continued, as he and his companion began to descend. When a vampire has existed as long as I have, his appearance becomes unsettling to mortals. I do have the ability to make you see me as I once was, or any way I want to be perceived, but I hardly ever bother with it. I choose to embrace my curse. And Mr Weasley, the gem you dropped is two inches away from the heel of your left shoe."
Overcoming his astonishment at an encounter with the oldest known vampire in existence, Ron groped around the indicated spot, indeed finding his gemstone there. "Err, thank you. And how did you know my name?"
He chuckled in amusement. "You underestimate the fame you've gained as Harry Potter's best friend."
"Ah. Well, allow me to introduce the rest of the group. Nestor Gaitan, Ethan Johnson, and Maaike de Bruijn." Ron gestured to each Ranger in turn.
The Confessor gestured to the veiled figure beside him. "My companion is named Baudonivia."
"Just Baudonivia?" Johnson asked.
"The Franks didn't have surnames," The Confessor answered matter-of-factly. "Not even their monarchs. Surnames started being used in the last millennium."
"So how old are you?" Maaike asked, looking at the veiled lady.
"I am not sure. I was born during the reign of the Merovingian King Clotaire I. Does that give you some insight?"
"Wow. I'm not a history buff, but I do know that the Merovingians were replaced by the Carolingians halfway in the eighth century," Maaike replied.
"Stay right where you are!" Mordecai's voice boomed. "Don't make any sudden movements."
"Take it easy, Caleb. It's The Confessor. He and his friend took out the enemy by themselves." Gaitan said as the complete Ranger teams the three Cruisers had carried seemed to swarm the place.
"I refrained from destroying the one holding the magic device," The Confessor added as he held up the unconscious vampire like she didn't weigh anything with one hand, and presented a small cube of about five by five by five inches in the other.
Mordecai lowered his wand and stepped forward to accept the cube. "Great! You left someone for us to interrogate. I thank you on behalf of the Order of Illumination, Mr Confessor."
"Caleb?" The Confessor asked, and followed up by asking something in a strange language, which Mordecai answered in the same language and sparked a rapid conversation in that language.
"It isn't polite to speak Hebrew in mixed company, father," Baudonivia interrupted.
"Forgive me," The Confessor said. "It has been over three hundred years since I have been in Judea, and nearly as long since I've spoken to a fellow countryman."
Mordecai chuckled. "I could tell. If my father hadn't been a scholar who forced me to learn Aramaic and Mishnaic Hebrew, I wouldn't have understood you very well. The pronunciation of what we speak nowadays is modelled on that of the Sephardic Jews from Turkey, Greece and Bulgaria."
"Has it changed that much?"
"Enough for you to have some trouble understanding it."
"So what's your real name, if you don't mind my asking?" Maaike asked The Confessor.
"Judas."
The devoutly Catholic Nestor Gaitan gasped and hastily made the sign of the cross.
The Confessor noticed this and drolly answered, "Not that Judas. He was from Kerioth. I am from Beersheba."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I'm moving, so I'll be dropping off the scopes for a while. I'll try to reconnect as soon as possible to upload the other chapters.
There was a fourth story planned, but I don't know if I'll write it. Interest in this series hasnoticably waned. If I do write it, expect it to progress really slowly.
I'm not going to individually answer the reviews this time, but I'll answer some general comments. The bit about the transfusion was borrowed from somewhere else. It most noticably appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, but the urban legend goes back way further.
And I thought lots more people would react to the bit about Snape. It seems like you guys read right over it.-)