NEW BLOOD INTERNATIONAL ACADEMY

Disclaimer: I own only the original characters in this story.

Chapter 8

The Offer: Part 2

Shikamaru

His Heir had been acting strangely since arriving home. Instead of the typical, apathetic laziness his son was known for, the teen was genuinely moody and distant. The change in behaviour was slight enough not to be noticed by most people, even fellow Naras, but Shikaku was not the head of an intelligence gathering Clan without being beyond merely observant. His right eyebrow rose before mockingly saying "Checkmate". He was now very curious. He'd just won their weekly shogi game within 30 mins. He hadn't won a game against his son that fast since he was five. Shikamaru snapped out of his thoughts and watched the board in dismay and quickly re-assessing all his moves. His father studied him closely.

"So what does she smell like?"

"Coconuts" came the distracted response before Shikamaru's head snapped up as he registered his father's question.

Shikaku smirked as his son turned a brilliant red at his mistake and scowled at him.

"You're distracted."

Shikamaru sighed and gazed up at the night sky, dragging his hand through his hair and biting his lip in hesitation. His father stared in sheer fascination at his son's unusual behaviour. Shikamaru finally looked at his father before quietly informing him of the meeting he'd scheduled for tomorrow and the circumstances surrounding it. Shikaku was intrigued. It had been a long time since an outsider had figured out the mechanics of the Nara Clan's ability. It had certainly never occurred with one so young and with supposedly so little information. Shikaku suppressed another smirk. It had certainly never occurred with one that the Clan Heir was interested in. He knew his son way too well. Shikamaru was obviously infatuated and confused by the depth of his infatuation.

He was looking forward to meeting the female who had obviously ruffled his son's feathers so thoroughly.

Hermione

Ellene Granger, known affectionately by many as 'Sweets', sat on her expensive black leather sofa with her parents in her rented home on Ivor Lonnath. With her eyes closed and head cocked slightly to the side, she proceeded to listen to her darling little sister tearfully and dramatically wail about her present predicament. She noted many things within the inflection of Hermione's voice that their parents didn't pick up, such as guilt or fear, underneath all the anger. Hermione had a right to be fearful and guilty. From what Ellene was understanding from her sister's little rant Hermione was responsible for her own situation. Ellene internally sighed and shook her head. Was she the only member of this family that realised the magnitude of trouble Hermione was in? Honestly! Didn't these people read?

"You idiot."

"Ellene!" exclaimed her father, throwing her a sharp glare.

Hermione immediately stopped pacing and ranting to stare at Ellene in shock. The look of pure irritation and disdain on Ellene's face confirmed that she did not mishear her sharp tongued and highly opinionated sister. Her entire body burnt as she flushed in both embarrassment, hurt and trepidation. Sometimes Hermione forgot that her sister was as brilliant as herself...

Jonathan Granger's mouth thinned in displeasure as he glared at his older daughter. Ellene's lack of tack had always been an issue between them. They were meeting the Nara Clan Head in little more than 15 minutes for goodness sake. Now was not the time to subject Hermione to a tongue lashing! Ellene however, harboured a different view on the situation.

"Am I suppose to feel sorry for you? Am I suppose to hold and rock you and say 'oh poor baby' whilst stroking your hair? Tell me something lil' sis, when you were happily digging into things that didn't concern you did you by chance entertain even a thought on the consequences for the Nara Clan had you gone public?"

There was no answer from her sister. Ellene didn't honestly expect one. Sometimes Hermione came across as a living advertisement for the proverb 'Spare the rod and spoil the child'. The brat was certainly spoilt! If looks could kill Ellene would have been a melted puddle of goo based on the intensity of her father's glare. She ignored him. Ellene had been one of the best lawyers for a reason. She was nobody's fool.

"SO! How about you tell us where you got all this information? I have to admit I find it rather strange that the Nara Clan just left information lying all over the place. You can't be the only person who wants to know how to perform their signature Clan ability. I mean that's just careless! Tell me Hermione, where can I get all these books?"

Dead silence. The tension in the room was suffocating. Hermione clenched her hands trying desperately not to cry as Ellene's brown eyes practically bore a hole in her head. Her sister leaned forward and whispered:

"Did you by any chance happen to glance at a law book whilst you were frivolously pursuing the rather engaging game of other people's business? I mean you do know what you did is illegal right? "

Katherine Granger massaged her temples as her stunned husband turned his shocked gaze onto his younger child. Surely what Ellene was strongly hinting at wasn't possible? Hermione flinched, avoiding her father's eyes. Realisation to the truth finally dawned on Jonathan and stared at Hermione like she was a stranger. Ellene sat up, a huge fake smile upon her face and continued in an equally fake high happy tone.

"Well! You've certainly landed on your feet I must say. Inducted into the Clan known for only taking geniuses before your fifth year of schooling? One of the hardest Clans to get into? Well Done! Bravo babycakes! Give the girl an award!"

Ellene uncrossed her legs and started to clap. Hermione burst into tears.

"That's enough Ellene! Kindly tone down the sarcasm please. And Hermione stop crying dear pull yourself together! The Naras will be here soon. There's no reason for them to know we were arguing right before their arrival!" Katherine finally interjected.

Ping Ponggggg went the doorbell. The family looked at each before fixing themselves to appear collected to these strangers. It was time to find out just how much trouble Hermione had gotten herself into.

...

Within five minutes of conversing with Hermione Granger, the Nara Clan Head was convinced his heir had made the right call. Originally, he'd privately been a bit disappointed in his son, believing that Shikamaru had allowed his hormones to overrule his training. Anyone else would have and should have been dead. However, now that Shikaku had actually met the little chit himself he applauded his son's commonsense. At least he could be assured that the boy's judgment capabilities concerning Clan issues was uncompromisable, even when pretty females made him think with the wrong head.

It was surprising the girl had escaped the notice of the Nara network. Remus had mentioned her in passing in his early reports but nothing in those indicated the level of intelligence he was witnessing. Someone like this should have really been brought to his immediate attention. The girl was a rare breed among geniuses, closer to Shikamaru's super genius level than his son had led him to believe and far more versed within her own mind than Remus reports had implied. Her explanation of how she had figured out the process for the Nara Shadow manipulation was so abstract and roundabout that Shikaku was only able to follow her trend of thought because of his intimate knowledge on the subject. They were going to have to work on that inability to communicate ideas. They were also going to have to discuss where Granger-san had acquired some of her rare knowledge. Half of the information she was basing her theories on, whilst not really that difficult to obtain and were hardly in the secret Nara archives or anything, were unavailable to the public. You needed to have a keyed in Nara signature to get into the places that harboured those types of books. He wasn't sure whether to be impressed at the girl's infiltration abilities or irritated that a wet behind the ears bint had found her way into his Clan archives and no one had noticed.

You know what tickled him though? The fact that all this was the raw version of Hermione Granger. Shikaku narrowed his eyes as his mind raced at the sheer possibilities. What would this pretty, arrogant, nosy and snobbish girl become with a bit of Nara training? She was certainly going to need it if she planned on continuing her close friendship with Harry Potter. Based on past reports on her behaviour at Hogwarts she was going to be right in the thick of things. There were benefits to having a Nara as the best friend of The Boy Who Lived. How had he been left unaware of this?

The Purebloods of Britain would have viewed her intelligence as an insult and threat and move to crush her as fast as possible the moment she left the shadow of Hogwarts, and by extension, Albus Dumbledore's protection. They would have been wrong about the first but dead correct about the second. Self-righteous geniuses such as Granger-san always tended to, if allowed, leave their mark on society, whether it be for the good or bad. Self-righteous New Bloods however...she would have probably picked up some cause or the other that stepped all over Magical Britain's beliefs and got herself if not killed, then regulated to as insignificant a position as possible. Based on her personality probably in their ministry. Her position would ensure her 'outrageous' ideas and actions would have had no possibility in hell of impacting mainstream magical society and she could hence be watched and controlled. She would have ended up marrying far below her and just settling for a mundane life filled with disappointment and bitterness whilst the ministry held so-called job promotions as dangling carrots.

"...and I figured a way to access the energy so that you don't need hand signs! It was really Ginsin St. Rose that gave me the idea in his book 'Night Watch' where he argued that the shadow is simply another limb that one must learn to move. He was just using it as an example but it got me thinking isn't that an interesting theory? Do you know that book? Isn't it just fascinating the way he compares mental reiryoku to the physical accumulations within... "

She would have been wasted in a place like Magical Britain.

As the girl babbled on another thing became very clear to the Nara Clan Head. Granger-san was in dire need of a Razzer. Most geniuses, including his son, found great benefits with using one. Granger-san's verbal vomit at the moment of every idea she was having including books read or things discovered (quite a bit of which had nothing to do with the conversation), her obvious struggle to just concentrate on only one topic whilst having so many thoughts at once, and her inability to control her desperate need to know everything were huge clues. At this rate she was going to force herself into insanity before she even finished New Blood. This type of problem was unfortunately not unusual for untrained geniuses. Geniuses had far more thoughts at once than the average person but this did not necessarily mean their thoughts were clear or even necessary for whatever they were doing at the time. It was the negative side to having a high IQ.

The Nara Razzer was a small device in the shape of an earring that sent electronic signals to the brain. This device assisted in the thought process of geniuses by slowing down the amount of thoughts the brain processes at any given time. Most Naras, including Remus and Shikaku, only needed to wear one. Shikamaru wore two.

Speaking of Shikamaru…

Shikaku hid his amusement as he glanced in the corner of his eye at his supposedly dozing son who in truth couldn't keep his eyes off of their potential Clan member. Well this was a rather deep attraction. His son normally had better control over his emotions than that. Shikaku had of course also noticed Granger-san slightly tense up the moment Shikamaru had taken up guard leaning on a beam behind her. Points to the girl for knowing when she was being watched with more than casual interest.

Then there was Ellene Granger. That this woman was actually capable of following her sister's thought processes if not the aspects that required in depth knowledge gave him far more precious information than anything else could have. It was also what settled him on a course of action.

His son was going to kill him.

Hermione Granger would become a member of the Nara Clan but not in the way everyone was expecting her to. Shikaku lazily performed a couple hand seals, a scroll suddenly appearing in a small puff of smoke and effectively cutting off the girl's excited babbling. Biting his thumb (and ignoring the Grangers horrified looks) he applied the blood drawn on the Nara crest imprinted on the scroll. Shikamaru was instantly suspicious. A normal Clan member contract didn't require blood level security. What was the old man up to?

"This is the contract that allows your daughter into the Nara Clan. To make this ironclad I will be requiring both your signatures and Hermione-san's using this pen. This is called a soul pen and is required when doing Clan contracts. What a soul pen does is tie the persons taking part to the very letter of the contract. When a soul pen is used the contract cannot be broken for any reason outside of death. Both Shikamaru and I will also sign. Please sign where indicated and we'll be on our way."

"Why does Shikamaru need to sign as well?" asked a highly suspicious Ellene. All of her red lights were flashing but she couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong with this scene.

"Three reasons actually. Shikamaru needs to sign both as a witness and my heir. The third reason is that it's obvious that Hermione-san can't be trusted. She needs a handler" replied Shikaku.

It was a smartly worded answer. The last reason could be seen as actually telling the family what was going on. Of course, they would have to actually know what was going on to understand it. Ellene narrowed her eyes at him. It was obvious the woman suspected something off with the proceedings but did not know enough about Clan law to pinpoint what exactly. His estimation of her went up a couple of notches. Given enough time he had no doubt she would figure out exactly what was going on. He had no intention of letting her.

"Let me make something perfectly clear, Granger-san. Hermione-san has broken a very sacred law among the magical community. I can and will have her executed if you do not sign. Do not make the mistake of believing any of you are in a position to actually argue about anything. Unfortunate for all of you Hermione-san has effectively tied your hands."

A pale Jonathan Granger quickly took the pen and signed where indicated. His shaken wife followed and then handed the scroll to Hermione. She was about to sign when her sister caught her hand.

"Read it first. Never sign anything without reading it first."

"Ellene enough!" cried their father.

Hermione, seeing the frightened looks on her parents' faces, pulled her hand out of her sister's grasp and signed the contract. Shikaku quickly took the scroll and signed his part before indicating his son to come and sign. There was a long moment where Shikaku met his son's wide, furious and defiant eyes. It was no shock he had figured it out.

"Shikamaru."

The boy slowly came forward, looking like he was walking to his own execution. He gripped the pen tightly, seriously tempted to break it. He knew however he would never get away with it. At the moment Shikaku Nara was more than just his father, he was both his Clan and Family Head. Shikamaru closed his eyes and signed the contract. As soon as he was done the signatures on the scroll turned gold. Without being told he made a copy and walked over to Hermione. When she reached for it he instead grabbed her hand.

"Myhidr I'm so sorry" he whispered whilst looking straight into her startled eyes. Maintaining eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss on her fingers before letting go. Handing the copy to her intrigued sister, he turned around and stormed pass his father out of the house.

"We'll be in touch" Shikaku declared before following in his son's wake.

In the shocked silence that followed the Naras departure, Ellene opened the contract to begin reading but noticed an immediate problem.

"What language is this?"

Glad for a distraction from the tingling of her hand and the dawning look of irritation on her father's face, Hermione looked over at her sister.

"Oh! That's High Elvish! Just a moment I know a spell that translates it to Latin. There's none that translates to English I'm afraid."

"I know Latin fairly well so go right ahead" replied Ellene.

As her sister uttered the incantation, Ellene watched the foreign words change into ones she was fairly familiar with...then nearly dropped the scroll in shock at the contract heading.

"Ellene?"

Turning towards her sister Ellene felt a wave of rage as she realised just how masterfully they had been manipulated.

"Hermione..."

"What?" asked her stepmother, "What's wrong? Why do you look so angry?"

Ellene gazed at her parents before turning back to look at her sister. A feeling of intense sympathy welled up in her.

"Ellene?" Hermione whispered suddenly anxious. Ellene's reactions coupled with Shikamaru's strange behaviour earlier was making her fairly nervous.

"Hermione...this is a Betrothal Contract."

Remus

It was over. He stood, fully dressed with the exception of his jacket, and stared at the murky grey coloured wall of his two month prison in quiet contemplation. He would be lying if he said he was sure where he should go from here. He didn't want to see Harry yet. Not without gaining a hold on his dignity at least. Multiple conversations with The Professor had kept him informed of various events, chief among them the decision that had been made on the topic of Voldemort. The chosen tactic by the war council was a bit distasteful to his palate but his views mattered not for a person who had been so easily duped. People would now hesitate before listening to his possibly tainted opinions. Never had Remus felt more embarrassed about an event in his life.

Footsteps stopped outside his door and once again he felt frustration rise within him at his inability to sense anyone within these walls. To somebody who had been doing this for years it was like covering an eye. He shook his head at his paranoia and laughed softly. You don't get more secure than in a building designed to curb the various abilities of its members. Unless someone had sent an assassin after him for whatever imagined slight he would not be fighting today. He was not prepared for the amused comment said in a familiar low gritty tone on his apparent merriment from his supposed warden.

"For a man chilling out in this dump for three months you sure seem happy."

Remus whipped around so fast he nearly tripped himself. Leaning against the door frame decked out head to toe in black dragonhide was the notorious Sirius Black. Whilst the statement was said with all of Sirius normal acidic amusement, the man didn't look the slightest bit tickled. For a long time the two stared at each other, the atmosphere peppered with regrets, unsaid words and stifling tension. Remus's brain was already in overdrive trying to compute the various reasons Sirius could possibly be standing in front of him. He slowly closed his eyes trying desperately to hold onto his temper when he stumbled upon the only possible one. It was a mostly unknown fact (only between the two of them) but Remus was the more hot-tempered of the two, far more spontaneous and honest in his reactions than Sirius. It was part and parcel of being a werewolf. In truth, quite a bit of Sirius's behavioural responses were contrived to receive and control the reactions of those around him. The man was a natural manipulator...or rather, the man was a Black.

"Harry?" Remus finally asked as he re-opened his eyes and stared at his still quiet, grim looking friend.

"Harry."

Remus nodded and picked up his jacket from the chair.

"So, where are the bodies and where are we burying them?"

That question. That essentially was the heart of their entire friendship. They both remembered that cold December day when a still 15 year old Remus had accidentally gotten loose into that muggle town near his old home. He'd come to him the next morning naked, dripping with blood, mud, and water, and looking terrified. Sirius had listened throughout the entire sobbed and rather morbid story before realising something. Remus had come to him. Not James who lived much closer to the scene than him. Remus had come to him and it had hit Sirius then that this blubbering werewolf in front of him had been the only person who had bothered to see beyond the surface.

This is what James never understood about Sirius. That all his grins and laughter was only a constructed mask hiding a depth of icy efficiency and cold blooded cruelty that quite frankly would have probably scared his good hearted, morally upstanding friend had he known. Even the sorting hat had missed it, instead only identifying the impulsive hotheaded version of Sirius that everyone knew. It wasn't to say that this version of Sirius wasn't real, it was very much a part of him. It was simply that there was more to him than just his surface personality. Sirius had waited for Remus to finish before calmly asking the question:

"Are we burning or burying them?"

To hear such a similar sentiment repeated to him so many years later...Sirius finally smiled.

Yeah. He and Remus? They'll be fine.

Neither noticed the shadow underneath Remus's chair slightly flicker.

...

Shikaku leans outside the false window of Remus's room, casually using a basic chakra technique to remain stuck to the side of the building. The shadows hide the slight curve of his lips as he uses the shadows inside to observe the meeting of his Clan member and the new and rather interesting member of the Kuriyama Clan. Shikaku would forever be grateful to Black-san for the rare entertainment of a flustered and confused Nikita. From beginning to end the dance had been an utter delight to watch. It had also confirmed his theory that the Black Lord was dangerous. Letting go of the chakra, Shikaku detaches himself from the building and gracefully free falls the 200ft to the ground, landing with only a whisper of a sound and a slight displacement of dirt to tell of his presence. Taking out a cigarette he uses a burst of chakra to light the end before taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with the tobacco, his eyes closing with pleasure as the effects hit. Opening his eyes, he blows out the smoke from his mouth as he looks up into the night sky at the stars thoughtfully.

The interaction between Black-san and Remus-kun was so...fascinating.

Petunia

Petunia, struggling with the bags of groceries from the car, stopped short at seeing a stranger standing next to her door. She was a rather pretty woman with short blond hair, tight black leather clothing, red lipstick and red shoes.

"Petunia Dursley nee Evans?"

Petunia frowned and tensed. Who was this woman?

"Yes?"

A smile crossed the woman's lips.

"My name is Nikita Mears. I believe we have a lot to talk about."

Britain

Albus Dumbledore sat back in his overly cushioned chair with a sigh. He frowned as a stabbing pain flashed sharply in his head and his eyes burned from being awake at such a late hour. Yet he couldn't sleep, not until he'd figured this all out. The cause of the headmaster of Hogwarts present distress lay innocently upon his desk in front of him. A harmless yet unusual letter with a very harmful message. Minerva McGonagall, his deputy headmistress, had been beside herself when she had discovered it upon her desk and had made haste in alerting him to the worrying contents it held. Needless to say, the esteemed headmaster had employed a worldwide search in order to find and bring back his wayward student and his bothersome relatives.

It was to no avail.

Stroking his long beard in deep contemplation, the Headmaster marveled at the sheer level of daring that accompanied the move and from the most unlikely person. He had clearly underestimated.

A withdrawal letter from Hogwarts for one Harry James Potter.

What did Petunia Dursley think she was doing?