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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
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Chapter Thirteen: The Caravel of Caerbannog
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Building a magically enhanced replica of the Hindenburg was not something which could be easily completed overnight, so Harry was told he'd have to wait at least until late February for delivery of his ridiculous demand. The others had gotten the stuff he'd asked for relatively quickly however; the Naked Granger Library of Sex Magic, named not for its content but for how much the title would annoy his friend, was complete but would be housed in the Zeppelin, Tonks' triple increase of pay grade despite only being out of the Auror Academy for eight months, Padfoot's all expenses paid trip to the Veela colony in Tuscany, and Dumbledore's one metric ton of Lemon Drops had all been accounted for within the first two weeks.
Harry found the magical community's diligence to be quite admirable when properly channelled... or perhaps strong-armed would be a better description.
As soon as the preliminaries had been sent to them by the Wizengamot Harry decided, as a show of good faith, to send Hedwig with parchment reading; 'Rufus Scrimgeour's hand is located between the Centaur's legs under the Fountain of Magical Brethren.' Thereby keeping his promise to the irritating politician, and freeing the severed limb from Harry's Fidelius Charm.
So now he was strolling onto the Great Hall of Hogwarts in lockstep with his friend Luna, who was riding on the back of some form of half-ostrich, half-racehorse creature which seemed particularly partial to attacking random Hufflepuff students for some reason. You had to admire Luna for coming up with what was arguably an even more outrageous demand than Harry.
The basic idea being that; in the same way as an ancient Greek wizard bred huge guard dogs to defend his fortress and then came up with the notion of combining them into a single multi-headed version of the sentry, which came to be known across the world as the magical breed 'Cerberus,' or Hagrid's fourth year combination of Manticore and Fire Crab which he'd named Blast Ended Skrewts, ... Luna had taken it upon herself to ask the Departments of Mysteries and Magical Creatures to work together creating a magical animal she said really should exist, but didn't.
And now poor Justin Finch-Fletchley was staring across the hall in fear of once more being accosted by the dreamy eyed fourth year and her terrifying abomination.
Taking over a large section of the Slytherin table this morning for a change, Harry and his friends set about claiming their breakfast, crunchy bacon and three different types of eggs served with a wobbling tower of toast.
"How about The Pillar of Autumn?" exploded Harry.
"No!" Hermione vetoed instantly. "You are terrible at naming things, what the hell kind of name is that for an airship."
"The Millennium Falcon?" suggested Sirius at the same time as Harry went with, "HMS Enterprise?"
"That is the fourth time you two have tried to steal a name from a movie, come up with something original!"
"The Highwind?" stated Luna, "The Black Pearl?" inserted Harry. Seeing as Hermione was getting frustrated Bellatrix tried for, "The Nautilus? That's a good name for a ship I think."
"Yeah," agreed Harry. "We'd be twenty‑one thousand leagues over the sea!"
"Twenty‑one?" Hermione frowned a little. "I'm pretty sure that's in space Harry."
The other students still hadn't really gotten used to the fact that terrifying mass murderer Sirius Black, and psychotic lunatic Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to hang around Harry and his other school friends in a school full of children as if it was the most normal thing in the world, taking part in stupid arguments and eating at the breakfast table just like they were normal students themselves.
"Think of it this way Hermione," injected the strange redhead none of the Slytherins had ever seen before the winter holidays, "at least they have stopped trying to name the thing after the Titanic or the Hindenburg itself. I for one do not particularly wish to board a vessel which is doomed."
Finishing up his meal Harry turned to the naysaying bookworm. "You coming to Arithmancy Hermione? I'm sure we'll be able to come up with a good name by next month so stop stressing, you'll be able to explore your library in no time."
"Sure," the bushy haired girl followed along, challenge in her tone, "like you're not looking forward to trying out your diplomatic immunity in France."
"Well, that too." Harry grinned. "I'll be like the bad guy from Lethal Weapon 2."
Let's see how you like international incidents Gerard Delacour you bounty hunter hiring arsehole!
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Frustrated because of his ninth straight defeat at the hands of the redheaded Not-Dark Lord, Harry went over by Luna to see if she needed any help pouring over her notes from last year's incident in the Room of Requirement. They had already decided on their first course of action once payment had been delivered, and that had been cribbed straight from the annotations she had left. But the rest of the stuff Luna had come up with seemed to need translating before it made any kind of sense at all.
"I am certain this is important, but for the life of me I cannot figure out what it is supposed to do." said the blonde, frowning at her calculations.
Harry took a looked over a perfect copy of the original transcript. "I still agree with you Luna, but I'm not particularly gifted at Ancient Runes, so I'm not going to be any help figuring out what your Runic Array is supposed to accomplish either."
The two talked for a little while, most of it basically just Harry acting as a sounding board while Luna attempted to unravel the mysteries of her own mind, until Bellatrix eventually sauntered into the Come and Go Room. "Harry, Yellow, you asked me to come and remind you when it was time for the meeting."
"Yeah, thanks." Harry got to his feet and scratching the back of his head asked, "Do you two want to come with me?"
They nodded and half an hour later the Harry and Luna were sitting across the table from none other than Rita Skeeter in a private room in the Hog's Head. Bellatrix began skilfully massaging the journalist's shoulders as she greeted her old dorm mate. "Heya Franny, how've you been? We haven't seen each other in years."
Ill-concealed terror flashed across the reporter's face as the woman replied, "Er-, F-fine Bella, never better." For some reason Harry could never exactly figure out, friendship with Bellatrix Black made more than just the students a little nervous.
Harry just went on, tactfully refraining from making a comment. "Well, how about we get down to business. Later the two of you can chat to your heart's content. Do you agree to my proposition?"
"You wish me to write the first fully endorsed biography of Harry Potter?" asked Rita, hardly daring to believe such a prospect would simply drop into her lap.
"Harry Potter and the Baited Basilisk: co-authored by H.J. Potter, Order of Merlin, Second Class, Full member of the Dark Force Defence League, and two time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." He then flashed the woman his well-practiced dazzling smile, at which Rita had the grace to roll her eyes.
"You are serious?" asked Rita.
"Of course. Now that I am being commissioned to fight in this war it is high time the public get to learn the true tale of the Boy‑Who‑Lived."
They spent the remainder of the day outlining all of Harry's adventures and misadventures over the years. It was an epic tale of romance and adventure, filled with drama, excitement, time-travel, unrequited love, and heroic self sacrifice. With the kinds of magic and swashbuckling unrivalled by even the most fanciful of fictional works.
Harry told of the time he had rescued the Veela Princess from an evil count, the adventure where his primary love interest, Hermione, had been captured in Amsterdam by those lesbian werewolves and he'd been forced to perform a classic Castle Infiltration. The duel at age nine with the man who had six fingers on his left hand, and had murdered his brother at an even younger age, and the occasion when the Dark Wizard 'Gingerbeard' was finally shown to have been controlling the young hero with poisoned 'Elven Candy' and the fiendish Malfae family.
Overall it promised to be the trashiest mound of pap ever forced through a printing press.
Harry's favourite part was the picture for the cover: Harry was shirtless and using pretty extensive glamours to appear with comically bulging muscles, and Luna polyjuiced to look like an airbrushed Hermione Granger was pushed right up to him, head tilted back begging for a kiss.
This thing was going to make them millionaires!
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Standing on what Harry had been erroneously naming 'the flight deck' of his newly christened Zeppelin the teen took yet another experimental spin of its classical wooden ships wheel, installed as a means of steering by request of Harry himself. The airship lurched dangerously as it had each time the boy had done this and his tricorne hat once more fell from his head.
"Harry, I swear to god if you do that one more time I'm going to hex you!" The brunette promised hotly, still not having gotten over being made into a mostly fictional character without her consent.
Travelling above the English Channel Harry was over the moon to be in possession of such a majestic means of transportation. It was far from completed of course. Yes the thing flew, was fuelled and reinforced magically in an attempt to prevent history from repeating itself, but Harry's discussions with Tamsyn stuck in his mind and now the boy was hell bent on procuring the biggest, baddest ward stones money could buy. All with the aim in mind to have a cavernous labyrinth and overall sky fortress which he could call his home, magically expanded spaces not least of the modifications they had in mind.
"Come on Hermione, I've never had a home that was really mine, can't you let me play with it a little?" Harry responded to his friend with big wide eyes, and open orphan-y face. The girl capitulated instantly of course, a dawning look of empathy and understanding.
Sucker! he thought picking up his pirate hat and going back to piloting his cool new toy. "Are you sure I shouldn't go with my idea for the meeting room Hermione?"
"The one where your throne-like chair would have a trapdoor in front of it, so that whenever you use the phrase 'you have outlived your usefulness' it would open, and the person would be forced to fight some kind of terrifying monster in the pit below for your amusement?" Hermione asked this in one long unbroken sentence, making sure the two were on the same page.
Nodding along with her, Tam answered, "Yes, I believe that is what Harry was referring to."
"Then yes. I am in fact sure that doing such a thing is a bad idea."
"Come on Hermione, just think of it. Dolores Umbridge comes with a proposal from the Ministry, and I say: 'There will be no agreement, let us see how you fare against the Rancor' and then the trapdoor opens and we get to watch her being eaten. It would be awesome!"
His oldest friend sighed and flopped down onto her seat. Eventually working up the courage Hermione asked the question she had been dreading. "Harry..." she drifted off before tentatively finishing, "Y-you would tell me if you were evil wouldn't you?"
The worst thing from Hermione's point of view was the fact that her friend did not actually answer the question.
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It was an early spring evening and Fleur Delacour was engaged in frivolous small talk at one of her father's never ending embassy functions. The platinum beauty would not admit it out loud but she was so bored, and had been to varying degrees for so long now. Once upon a time she loved doing things like this, meeting with influential and sophisticated people. The kinds of people who were educated, erudite, who knew the difference between Champaign and sparkling white wine, and could discuss art and politics in intelligent ways.
"My, it seems to have gotten dark out awfully swiftly." Robért commented, his French flavoured with a slight Parisian accent she suspected was an affectation.
Looking over her shoulder at the unnaturally darkened sky Fleur became curious and slowly moved closer to the large window overlooking the gardens of her Châteaux. The monstrosity which was blocking out the sun dominated the western horizon, and the French woman knew without a shadow of doubt that Harry Potter was going to somehow be involved in whatever insanity was about to befall her life. No-one else could conceivably have thought it a good idea to stencil such a complex and delicate piece of artwork all over the side of such a gigantic... thing.
Claiming three glasses of fine white wine Fleur summarily downed them as fast as possible, and about twenty seconds after she had done so the doors slammed open and a notoriously familiar man strode into the room as though he owned the place. Her place!
"Bon-Jow-ah! Gets a me sums Vino, Silver Plate!" Harry commanded in mangled French, with an accent which caused most of the room to violently shudder.
In his defence Harry did not immediately sashay over to his obvious target. Instead he made his way through the dignitaries, insulted a number of distinguished guests, hit on a number of their female companions, threatened her father, drank more than his fair share of wine, and caused so much horrified wincing at his failed attempts at conversing in her native tongue.
"I believe you came close to starting a war between our two nations this evening."
Fleur's dispassionate comment washed over the irritating Englishman once he made his way over to her, taking the news of an impending conflict in stride.
"Well fancy meeting you here, I for one am greatly surprised. This being my first diplomatic engagement and all."
"As if you came here for any reason other than to find me 'Arry."
"My, my. Full of yourself this evening Mademoiselle."
Seeing her glare directed at the former Hogwarts Champion poor Robért attempted to rescue her. Fleur knew she should have been unhappy with what Harry did to him, but it was all she could do to hold in her giggles. It would not do to appear as frivolous as her younger sister Gabrielle.
"Why are you 'ere 'Arry, stop with 'ze shenanigans and just tell me?"
The man pinned her with that infuriating jade eyed gaze of his, and she fought hard not to react in any overt way. After a painfully long moment Harry let loose a charming boyish smile.
"I've business in the United States. A cultured diplomat such as yourself would be a wealth of expertise and more than pleasant company."
Fleur was aware that she should fight this on principle, Harry was involved after all, but looking into those big green eyes she just knew she was going to help.
I really hate you Harry Potter.
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"Welcome of the Caravel of Caerbannog, my home away from hom-, well... home away from Hogwarts at least." Harry directed the statement to Fleur as he waved his hand vaguely around the airship.
"Caerbannog?" asked Fleur.
"It's Welsh and means Turreted Castle." he instantly responded. "It turns out I wasn't allowed to name my Zeppelin the Flying Fortress for some reason."
"That name was taken Harry," the bushy haired girl added her opinion. "...and we named it Caerbannog in honour of your animagus form."
"Oh yeah." Harry confirmed. Turning to their French companion he informed, "It ties in with an old Arthurian legend which the Muggles made into an award winning documentary."
"That movie wasn't a docu-" protested Hermione.
...and was ignored by Harry as he moved over to Luna. "Mistress Lovegood, set a course for the New World. Full fast ahead!"
"Aye, aye, Cap'n." The blonde answered fiddling with her eye-patch and stuffed parrot.
Really, nobody save Luna was getting into the whole sky-pirate theme. Harry thought. It was like a joke to them, they'd even vetoed his renaming Galleons 'Sky Doubloons.'
Shaking their various heads the crew remained quiet and set about taking it easy for the flight across the North Atlantic.
Only one room had been completed to everyone's satisfaction, and that was because it was critical the running of the ship; the Duelling Pit. Given the complexity of Caerbannog's planned outline, the airship was going to require a tremendous amount of magical intake to keep functioning at optimal capacity, and the obvious solution was arrived at by both Albus and Tamsyn. In the same way as Hogwarts Castle had wards which were in a large part maintained by the students, the airship would have a Duelling Pit whose walls would efficiently absorb all magic which was cast onto them.
That way they could practice as much as they liked, and so long as they avoided casting unabsorbable spells like the Killing Curse, the magic they were using would be taken in and channelled into keeping everything working. Massive redundancy on charging runes was a given, but for the most part Caerbannog would not need to be parked on a Lay Line for ridiculous lengths of time to keep all the magic on it functioning.
Still, it was working fine for now, so next stop: the U.S. of Aye.
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"Look at this place." said Harry from the airship's position floating high above the city.
"What?"
"Well for one, the air is green." he pointed out.
"It does look quite 'ze dump I agree." confirmed Fleur.
"What did you call this town again Luna?" asked Harry.
"The Holly Wood, situated in the North American district of California." answered Luna, looking down at their destination with distaste showing clearly on her face.
Harry sighed before summing up his thoughts, "I have never seen such a wretched hive of scum and villainy."
"No." ... "Non." ... "My either." ... "I quite agree." The room added their opinions, for once coming to a rare consensus.
Regardless of first impressions Harry actually had quite the enjoyable and productive afternoon. After completing the day's first little task with the help of Bellatrix, Fleur and Harry had split off in search of that girl from the Addams Family movies, and following a rather clumpy attempt at... whatever, she'd ended up setting her bodyguards on the English boy like a pack of hounds. He was in the country, he'd had to at least try right? Although Fleur's laughter probably made the whole thing worth it...
Now it was late evening the two were traversing a cold warehouse filled with hanging meat, on their way to complete Luna's mission. Fleur was sceptical at the surroundings, but at her companion's confident self-assurance and repeated admonishments that she should trust him, she was holding back the majority of her hesitation. Taking the French girl's hand Harry moved passed a man who was clearly acting as a bouncer, and the two found themselves in a packed club with deafening trance music being played at ear splitting volume.
Wasting no time Harry set about dancing with three stunning young women who looked to have stepped straight out of an Eastern European fashion magazine, leaving the platinum blonde to fend for herself. Things were going well for the first half hour or so, that was when the sprinkler system began drenching the dance floor with anti-coagulated blood.
Harry managed to spot a guy who must have been at least two meters tall sinking his fangs into Fleur Delacour's pretty lithe neck, before his Vampire companion began gnawing on his own carotid artery.
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Tossing himself into one of the chairs across from the stylish metallic office table Harry set about applying Essence of Dittany to his injured neck. He handed the displeased French girl a shooter of Holy Water and Silver Nitrate which she downed with a wince and went back to healing her own neck wounds with medical charms which were far out of Harry's league.
"A Vampire Rave 'Arry? I simply cannot believe even you would do these things sometimes."
He chuckled at her attitude and handed her a bottle of swill the Yanks laughably called lager. Pulling another Budweiser from his expanded pocket Harry took his time cracking it open and taking a drink, finally he made eye contact with the man they had come all the way to the United States to meet.
"You killed five of my clan." he evenly stated.
Looking the person over Harry decided that he and this Vampire basically had the same hair, giving him an odd boost in confidence for some indefinable reason. "We did not ask them to bite us. It is hardly our fault that our blood 'dusted' them now is it?"
The man was an influential Vampire by the name of Deacon Frost, and was not a clan Elder despite his attitude. From what Harry and his friends had been able to discover, Frost was in the process of setting up a bit of a coup d'état with regards to the Vampire nation, resurrecting one of their blood deities and putting himself top of the pile so to speak.
Not that they cared overmuch, it was an internal matter with which the wizarding world had very little right nor inclination to become involved.
After the silence dragged on Frost flicked his feet onto his desk and sat back in a comfortable slouch. "You ... are the infamous Harry Potter."
"So it would seem."
"And you have trespassed on my property with your Veela concubine." Fleur's eyes narrowed at this designation but she wisely contained any outburst.
Smiling over at his friend's composure briefly, Harry returned to the matter at hand. "I have brought you a present."
Flicking a box dragged from another magically expanded pocket onto the desk, Harry just stared at the man as he pulled out the severed head which it held. And watched as the Vampire's eyes widened in recognition.
"Is this who I think it is?" Frost asked.
"If you think it's that trenchcoat wearing halfsoul, then yes."
"But how?" he asked in disbelief. "We've been trying to kill this fucker for twenty years."
Harry just laughed. "The racist Vampire hating prick has been cutting his way through the clans for years, but he was arrogant enough to make his living as a Muggle actor not fifty miles away from where we sit." He shook his head. "Bellatrix and I met with his bodyguards and that crippled what's-his-name earlier today. It wasn't even that difficult because we got to him during the day."
There was absolutely no truth in the claim they had then stolen the man's 1968 Dodge Charger and crashed it into a cop car. And anyone saying otherwise would be risking an international incident, which was fantastic!
"Well then. I must confess that such a gift makes me far more amenable." admitted Frost.
Nodding Harry got on with the purpose of the meeting. "I'm sure you are aware of the situation we are facing in the United Kingdom."
"I am not even a Clan Elder, why come to me begging for aid?"
Doing nothing but cock an eyebrow at the man's understating his importance, Harry went on, "I do not come looking for Vampire fighters Deacon. Voldemort has the service of a werewolf named Greyback, and he promises to be a pain in my arse." Frost made an agreeing gesture to this statement, Fenrir really had made a name for himself over the years "We're not here for help, more like we want Vampire ... neutrality."
Harry paused to watch the man's reaction for a few beats.
"Although I have been told that carrot gift is one thing, but you will be more likely to agree with our position if I offer a stick too. So to that end I would like to inform you, and the Vampire nation at large, that if any of you side with Voldemort I will decimate your numbers. Personally removing one tenth of the Vampire population."
Fleur watched as Deacon Frost and Harry Potter looked one another over without flinching. A meeting of equals as etiquette demanded, but with a certainty on all sides that the talks could go only one way.
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Hermione and Tam were lounging in the main room of Caerbannog, chatting idly following quite an enjoyable day of sun and sand in the States. Bellatrix and Luna were playing some hand game with a tied length of string, and the room was quite relaxed, listening to tunes from the local radio station which Tam had managed to finagle into picking up with their Wireless.
The coalescing shape of a silvery Bengal tiger broke this relaxed scene, and the Message-Patronus in Harry's strained voice snapped the four to attention.
Death Eater ambush. Help now!
It rattled off just enough detail for them to create a hasty portkey, and a distinctive tugging sensation later all four found themselves in an out-of-the-way alley, which would later turn out to be the closest entrance to the Vampire Club. Harry and Fleur were back to back trading shots on either side with masked and unmasked figures, who had somehow tracked their target to this location.
Tam wasted no time unloading her vicious magic of the darkest varieties pairing up surprisingly well with the bookish teenager, while at the same time Bella and Luna made a beeline straight for Harry. Those fighting on the North side of the battle went down in an unexpectedly short amount of time given that all bar Harry himself were focused on those combatants, but when they finally linked up retreat proved impossible.
"The portkey and apparition wards let in reinforcements but don't let us out." Tam screeched when the initial escape failed. "We're going to have to hoof it some distance from here."
They attempted to do just that but a powerful figure with a ruby hilted broadsword grasped in his offhand apparated into the newly cleared North side of the alleyway, escorted by three masked Death Eaters and one unmasked showing the easily recognised image of Draco Malfoy.
Honestly things just keep getting better. Now we have to try and dispatch the strongest Founder!
At least Harry was in high spirits, he was laughing and exchanging shots freely now that he'd managed to bring down one of the adjacent buildings, cutting off southerly escape as well as any assault from that direction. Maybe some of the enemies had been crushed too, it was a nice thought. Tam watched as Harry tossed a handful of roasted peanuts carelessly in the air and wandlessly transfigured them into sapient shielding; six neon blue Cornish pixies which hovered around the teen waiting to accept one of the casually thrown Killing Curses.
Tam briefly wondered when Harry had taken to using peanuts in battle, the protein in them really made it a stroke of energy efficient genius, but the thought was interrupted when the living Horcrux going by the name Godric personally entered the battle.
The man fought in a similar style to Tam which made sense, only the spell selection demonstrated left the redhead a little envious. Hermione, Luna, Fleur, Bellatrix, and Tam herself went five to one against the primary enemy, leaving Harry to face the chaff alone.
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Battling these idiots was a breeze, Harry had been joking around, taunting them and so on as he effortlessly took down his lesser opponents. Now he was down to his final challenger and his last pixie defender saved him diving into an AK.
"Well hello there Draco, nice to see you so far from the good old halls of Hogwarts." Seeing the other five had the main problem in hand, Harry grinned as he ducked yet another jet of green.
Man, he's pretty quick with those Unforgivables I'll give him that.
The two traded a few spells and a few insults, bringing into question the others parentage and so on, but Harry wasn't expecting to take a Trefoil Butchering Curse in the neck and across the torso.
Oh dear gods, I got killed by Draco fucking Malfoy.
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Draco knew he was on the wrong side of a mismatch, but he was the last Death Eater standing and he really had nothing to do but suck it up and keep going, hope that someone would come to his aid. What was worse was that Potter didn't even appear to be trying, which was infuriating in the extreme!
The time spent playing host to the Dark Lord had been an intensely painful experience, although unrivalled in its usefulness. Not only was he catapulted into the ranks of the Inner Circle, but by practicing the magic his Lord had utilised Draco was now one of the more competent duellists. His Killing and Torture Curses could be snapped off with nary a thought, and his personal favourite would win the day for him in an unanticipated victory for their cause.
Seeing Potter duck his Cruciatus, and mouthing off once more, Draco sent three bands of serrated magic at his foe. And watched in surprise as the boy he'd hated since the first year's Hogwarts Express fell dead to the ground in three separate chunks.
The silvery blonde triumphantly commented in his own mind:
Never fuck with a Malfoy, Potter.
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Seeing her Harry fall, Bella went mad, and Godric wisely chose to drop the escape wards and activate his group portkey, barely managing to save his men's lives in the face of such a terrible threat.
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At the same instant that Harry Potter lost his life an Oracle by the name of Sybill Trelawney uttered a long lost rhyme, last heard on forgotten island of Avalon by a young woman named Morgan LeFay:
The lions sing and the hills take flight
The moon by day, and the sun by night
Blind woman, deaf man, jackdaw fool
Let the Lord of Chaos rule
...and was unfortunately overheard by none save a disbelieving class of fourth years during their morning class of Divination.