(A/N): Last chapter wasn't as popular in new follows and favorites (the rate of new follows dropped by 1/3rd or 1/4th). *sad* Maybe last chapter wasn't very good, or maybe posting it at like 2am wasn't a smart move on my part. Either way, I'll try to do better.
That aside, as you may have noticed I changed the title of this story from the generic "Break the Limits" to the more descriptive "The Coven of Albion", which incidentally is also the title of this chapter. I also updated the summary a bit to be more detailed and added the last character to the tags.
Anyway, Favorite and Follow if you enjoyed this new readers, and drop a Review with your thoughts~
(November 19, Lockhart Residence)
Harry sat patiently on the living room sofa as his aunt Andromeda used green magic powder to call someone at the magic school she had mentioned. When she explained what she was doing, he questioned why they couldn't simply use the telephone. Apparently there was too much magic in the air for electronic devices to work near magic schools. Who knew.
In the meantime, Harry began playing with his magic since Gwen and Mitchell had gone outside to stretch their legs for a bit. It was an activity that always comforted Harry since he discovered his abilities. He created a small ball of flame above his right hand and began moving his hands around to change the shape of the flame to various animals and insects. A small flaming bird began flying around the living room for Harry's entertainment, weaving around the lights and lamps situated about the room. He expected Andromeda to ask him to stop, but she seemed to find the sight funny for some reason.
"Enjoying yourself, Harry?" asked Andromeda as she watched him demonstrate his ease of control over his magical abilities.
Harry nodded as he altered the shape of it from a bird to a galloping horse. "It helps. Makes me feel, I dunno, more in control so I don't freeze up if something happens."
Andromeda would have been surprised by this had she not known what he'd been through. "You know you're safe with us, don't you?" she asked sadly.
Harry shrugged his shoulders a bit and mumbled a reply that Andromeda couldn't hear.
"What was that?" she asked.
"I said I don't really know any of you, so I don't know what to think…" he said quietly. He didn't want to meet Andromeda's eyes as he said it.
At that moment, the emerald flames from before roared back into the fireplace. A person, a young woman, slowly stepped out of the fire. It was a bizarre sight, but by this point Harry was just about numb to how odd magic was.
"Where's the fire, Mum?" the pink-haired girl said, giving Andromeda a confused look. "Professor Sprout wasn't sharing details. I should be upset; I was this close to snogging this cute Ravenclaw- who's this?" the mystery girl asked abruptly when she spotted Harry on the couch.
Harry didn't catch Andromeda introducing the girl, nor her reaction to learning who he was. He was too busy blushing at how pretty she was.
"Aunt Lyra was right, pink hair is cute," he mumbled. And then there were her eyes- gold like a lion's and bright in a way that immediately drew one's attention. That said, Harry was pretty sure the girl still had cooties.
"What was that?" the new girl asked.
"Huh?" Harry said. Too distracted to give a proper reply, he rubbed his reddening hair nervously. "Sorry, who are you again?"
The girl snapped her fingers and said, "Well I'll be, another Metamorphmagus in the family! Say no more. And it's Tonks, let no one tell you any different."
Andromeda pouted at Tonks. "You're never going to forgive me for your name, are you Nymphadora?"
Tonks ignored her mother and began to metamorph her appearance to mimic Harry's. It took a few tries until it felt right, but she copied his wild black hair in after a few moments. Mirroring faces was very easy for Tonks, even without having to direct her magic on him to do a Polymorph. Height was a different story. It was the first time she'd changed how tall she was more than a few inches beyond normal; Harry was quite a bit shorter than she was due to the large age gap. To prevent herself from slipping out of her clothes, she waved her wand to shrink the clothes along with her transformation, keeping them the proper size.
"Ta-da!" Tonks said happily, twirling around. "Meet Harry's twin brother, er, Larry. We've been apart too long, brother. Let us show the world we transforming Potters are a force to be reckoned with!"
Harry was stunned. He knew technically there were other metamorphmagi besides himself, but Burmog had always talked as if it were more likely to rain galleons than to meet two. And she was able to switch from a girl to a boy with no issue…
"How'd you do that?" asked Harry.
Tonks waved off his question and said, "Oh come on, I know you're a Metamorphmagus too. Have you not practiced it much? It's a bit disorienting starting out but you'll pick it up soon en-"
Harry shook his head and said shyly, "No, I mean, how did you… switch like that?"
Tonks tilted her 'Larry' head - a sight almost too bizarre for Harry - and asked, "How d'you mean?"
Harry blushed at bit a glanced at Andromeda nervously. He got up and walked to his copycat and whispered in her (his?) ear. "You know. How'd you turn into a boy without the… issue? I tried to copycat a woman once and something went really really wrong..."
Tonks blanked for a moment before her eyes widened and she blushed a deep red. "Oh my, did you… that is too say… oh I can't do this, I'm not old yet. Only old people should have this responsibility..."
Harry made his cutest pout to try and weaken her resolve. Tonks didn't seem to be fazed by it, but after a few moments she sighed and made to whisper back.
"Look, do not Polymorph into someone if you can avoid it. It let's you do a perfect imitation like a Polyjuice Potion, but the copy is a bit too good. You mimic their entire body by focusing your magic on them, so a lot can go wrong if you pick the wrong person… or the wrong time," she said into Harry's ear. "I didn't change everything, just, you know, my head and height."
Harry wanted to ask why he had to worry about the time when he wanted to 'polymorph' into a woman, but didn't bother since Tonks seemed to clam up about it. Teenagers were weird, obviously.
"Ok ok, I got it. But, why don't we see who's the best at metamorphing Tonks!" Harry said. He quickly took on the look he recalled her having when she entered. But since he didn't have his suitcase with spare clothes for larger bodies, he couldn't adjust his height very much. Unlike Tonks, he didn't know how to change the size of his clothing, so the result was an odd sort of mini-Tonks. Andromeda "Aww"-ed at the sight.
Andromeda laughed as she saw the two start what would clearly become a rivalry of sorts. She turned to leave the room to meet with the others. They had much to do and not a long time to do it.
Gwen and Mitchell were very confused when the walked in minutes later, only to come across the two shapeshifters flipping through different identities at the drop of a hat.
(November 24th 1988, 4 Days Later, Department of International Magic Cooperation office)
Bartemius Crouch Sr. was sitting in his office with his wife, Carina. His Wizengamot colleague, Malfoy, had all but demanded a meeting with him and his wife, oddly enough. He was lucky to have found spare time that evening; after the revelation that Harry Potter had been spirited away to places unknown and likely injured, the Ministry had been frantic from top to bottom. There had been a near endless stream of angry letters and Howlers owled to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and even Fudge himself demanding that action be taken. Most irritatingly and stunning of all was the piece that appeared in the Prophet the day after the piece on the Potter boy.
Bagnold had given a statement to the paper and all but said the Ministry had gone to the dogs after she stepped down as the Minister and Fudge took office after her, and that under her the Ministry would never had let such a thing happen to a national hero.
Fudge had been enraged by the article and had spent much of that the day before ranting all over the place about 'Has beens making things political after being shown the door'. He had called meetings with various Department Heads clamoring to squash the Prophet until Crouch firmly reminded him of the illegality of the proposal. Well, he'd had never thought Fudge apt for the position he so desperately sought. First the public debacle with their Soviet counterparts and now this. Fudge's term looked to be short if such trends held. If only...
He snapped out of his ruminations, suddenly clenching his fist. It didn't do to dwell on dead dreams of the past, especially given what his own drive and inattentiveness had cost he and his wife. At that thought, he slowly uncurled his hand.
"I do wonder why Lucius called for the both of us. Any ideas, dear?" Carina inquired curiously while running a hand through her long brown hair.
Bartemius shook his head. "I haven't the faintest. I do wish he'd get here soon, this Potter case is blooming into a PR nightmare for the Ministry. We cannot let the public trust in it waver too much. The masses will begin losing respect for our laws should this be prolonged."
"I do hope young Harry is okay," Carina said concernedly. "I had hoped he and our Calypso could be playmates once he'd returned to our world. His parents were a good example to the community. I know how fond you were of Lily, dear."
Bartemius sighed. "She was promising and had an uncompromising fire in her. She'd have been an asset in smoothing things over after the War had ended. I'd have recommended her for damn near any position she desired. James on the other hand…"
"Was just as promising," Carina finished for him. She smirked at her husband's irritated expression. "You quarreled with him simply because he was determined to take the mickey out of you for being so uptight. Besides, those pranks were harmless."
"A man just can't forgive having breasts Transfigured onto his chest," he argued. "He and Black are lucky all they got were a pair of Stunners…"
A knock on his office door at 5pm sharp signalled the arrival of Malfoy. The blonde man stepped in as Crouch opened the door, wearing a black suit rather like his own. Bartemius was always thankful robes were typically relegated to formal occasions like the court; they were much too open for his liking.
"Ah Lucius, to what do my wife and I owe for your request of a meeting?" Crouch asked.
Lucius looked Crouch right in the eyes and said, "I have a proposition for the both of you, one which, upon reflection, I believe you will see is beneficial to both parties."
Bartemius scowled at Lucius's words. "If you think you can buy me off Malfoy you've got another thing coming," he said heatedly.
Lucius quickly shook his head and calmly said, "Nothing of the sort, Bartemius. I'm offering you the chance to fulfill the old dream. You still desire to become Minister of Magic, yes?"
Bartemius fumbled his prepared response, not having expected what Lucius said. 'H-how? How could Malfoy think he could control such a thing? Unless…'
"What do you know?" asked Bartemius shrewdly. "You wouldn't ask such a thing unless you had information of some sort. Maybe blackmail on Fudge or…"
"Or a means of vastly increasing your popularity in a way that will be proportionally damaging to Fudge's already waning support," finished Lucius. "But, this will require Carina to agree to join several others in a certain undertaking that will benefit all of us."
Bartemius waited a few moments, considering the possibility of finally becoming the Minister, before berating himself for nearly agreeing without even knowing the terms of the deal. "You're being awfully vague about this. Before Carina and I could possibly agree, you have to show your cards," he said firmly.
Lucius nodded in agreement. "My wife's family and I have Harry Potter safe and sound," he said, stunning the pair of Crouches, producing a photograph of Harry his sister-in-law Lyra had taken the day previous. "And after Narcissa and Andromeda were allowed to sift through his somewhat jumbled memories of the event with Legilimency, we finally determined who the Death Eater was that attacked him."
Bartemius was practically salivating at what he was being offered, though he was smart enough to mask it. Before he could ask what the terms were, his wife spoke up.
"And you wish for me to be the final member of a Black Family coven for Barty to become the Minister, correct?" Carina said, smiling at the two men.
Lucius did a double-take. "How did you…?"
She waved him off. "Women talk, Lucius. Augusta owled me this morning, telling me to expect your visit but not to mention it until I knew the reason. She didn't outright tell me, but when she mentioned I'd be the thirteenth witch you'd visited, well, I can read between the lines."
Lucius tried to regain his momentum, as Bartemius looked more hesitant now that he knew what Lucius required for what he offered. As the man knew about the benefits of a coven due to his departmental interactions Flamel and her Cult of Aphrodite over in France, Lucius knew he'd need to make certain assurances to sway Bartemius.
"I know the ritual to form a Covenant is considered dark magic, but you of all people know that we can't be soft-handed when the opposition intends to annihilate or enslave us. These pushbacks on the Continent and in the States, they're darker portends than you know," Lucius started.
"It's him, isn't it?" Bartemius interrupted. "Albus and I have been discussing it for some time. Fudge refuses to listen, but the parallels are eerie. It's just… how can it be Voldemort? Our task force was certain that whatever form he survived in, he was somewhere in or near Albania. These policy shifts and reprisals have been occurring all over the place. Those Muggle-born Ministry officials were maimed in Spain for instance…"
"I don't know the how, but I am certain of the who," Lucius said gravely. "They've scarcely tried anything in France because of Flamel's authority there. At the very least, we can deter he and his followers from attacking brazenly here as well. With a proper family coven and you as Minister, we'll be in a prime position to set up a coalition and make allies to strike back as needed."
Bartemius mulled over how such scenario was likely to go. Albus's plan had merit. He believed the ICW should put economic pressure on the magical governments who were passing dangerous policies and setting up legal precedents that would, for instance, allow Muggle-baiting to be justified if the offending wizard 'felt threatened by the Muggle'. However, it stalled since dozens of nations, especially smaller ones, had objected to allowing the ICW do exercise such a power, fearing it might one day be directed at them. Wizarding communities were interconnected by sheer necessity. None wished to allow such pressures be put on them.
"How can you guarantee Barty will be able to become the Minister, even if you convince the Wizengamot to oust Fudge?" Carina asked pointedly. "After that vote back in October, surely there are whispers that you're not the 'proper pure-blood' the old families think you should be?"
Lucius chuckled and said, "I've already got that covered. Let's just say that Greengrass and I have been rather diligently collecting favors among the other court members. Others were more than happy to vote our way; Augusta all but told me to get on with it when we last spoke."
"Do it," Bartemius said confidently. "Make the arrangements for me to apprehend the Death Eater in question. Make a Vow with me that this plan isn't a trap of some sort and I'll agree to your terms." He looked back at his wife, realizing he'd nearly overstepped his bounds without consulting her. "Are you willing, dear?"
"Hah, the coven prospect never bothered me. I've feared many have been less than faithful to the gods, so at the very least we remind the public of their religious duties. Augusta and I can get passed old squabbles," Carina said.
Afterwards, Lucius and Bartemius made the requested Unbreakable Vow with Carina overseeing it.
"Here's how it will go…" Lucius started.
(November 26th, Two Days Later, Crouch Residence, London)
The Disillusioned, robed man was skulking through the townhouse of the senior Ministry official in the dead of night. He had not expected to be the one finally end Potter. No, after his little tip-off to the Prophet, he expected others who had gone into hiding after the disappearance of their master to be chomping at the bit to end the boy.
As luck would have it, a traitor who wanted a good word put in had gotten the information to him that Potter had been hidden in Crouch's London residence until they were sure he was safe.
'As if those bureaucratic nitwits had the ability to protect him from me,' the man thought confidently.
The wards protecting the home had certainly been impressive, a notch or two above what he'd been told were protecting the Malfoy's manor. The man assumed the attacks had convinced Malfoy he had no future unless he could get back in their master's good graces.
There had been a weakness in the enchantments, however. They were designed to repel those with ill-intent towards those inside. After using some some charms he'd picked up from a old curse-breaker acquaintance of his, he'd determined they were only effective against humanoids. As it turned out, he was an Animagus. Unregistered, naturally.
Once inside, his Homenum Revelio showed that of the four people in the home. One was off alone in another room, no doubt his target. He magically erased the sound of his footfall as he approached the room. He silently entered and saw the small figure asleep on the bed. Inspecting him, he determined that it was Potter, scar and all.
"Oh Lucius, you might even get off easy for giving me this," he whispered gleefully.
But just as he raised his wand to do the deed, there was a loud cracking sound behind him. He twirled to meet his attacker only to be thrown across the room by a Banishing Charm that came from behind him.
"Really Carrow, did you think you could enter my home unbeknownst to me?" the man asked in a bored tone of voice.
Amycus scrambled to his feet, wand pointed at the mustachioed man at the doorway. "Shouldn't be so arrogant, Crouch. If your wards had been worth a damn I wouldn't have gotten in," he said fiercely.
"Ah, you still don't get it. You were let in. It's a trap, you see. Now that I've got you all to myself I'll be taking you in." His tone suggested how certain he was he'd succeed.
"It'll take more than you've got old man. Crucio!" Amycus shouted.
But impossibly, Crouch did not so much as whimper when Amycus's spell hit him. He stood there, firm posture and all, as if he'd been on the receiving end of nothing more than a light breeze.
"Impossible!" Amycus shouted. He started throwing a flurry of spells at Crouch. A Bone-Shattering Curse, an Abdomen Bursting Curse, even Dolohov's personal curse for good measure. They each failed to have any apparent effect on the man.
Amycus began backing up, not understanding how the man could be completely unaffected by his magic.
"I don't know how you're doing this but it ends now!" he screamed. "Avada K-"
Suddenly, he was struck by a Body-Binding Spell from behind and collapsed on the floor like a statue, unable to cast a spell as he lay helplessly on his back.
"The problem with your sort Carrow is that you mistake brutality for real power," came Crouch's voice from the bed.
Who he had taken to be Potter on the bed faded into the appearance of Crouch, who stood up and looked down upon Amycus as if he were the filth of the earth. He'd clearly been had all along. The Crouch he'd been attacking must have been an illusion of some sort.
"A little trick I picked up from my Japanese counterpart. Misdirection is an indispensable weapon, you failed to notice the timed Banishing Charm I had set up near the bed. That illusion of me was just a distraction. Viciousness does not make you invincible, something your master should have done a better job instilling in you, Carrow."
A red light flared out of Crouch's wand and Amycus's world went black.
(Ministry of Magic Atrium, Afternoon of the same day)
Harry didn't understand why they had to be in this place. The had walked through a magic mirror in an empty office building in London and appeared in a massive room that seemed to be underground. There was a huge golden statue of a witch and wizard, with a goblin and elf looking at them in awe. Having just been allowed to continue training with Burmog and the gang the other day - with too much supervision by his new family, of course - he knew no goblin would be caught dead looking at a wizard that way.
Most irritatingly of all, there were a huge number of people, many holding cameras of various brands taking pictures of the the officials situated on the podium near the statue. He recognized a few of the figures, as they were part of his father's family. His aunt Amelia, a nice blonde lady with a cool niece, was whispering with his uncle Crouch, or has Harry preferred, uncle Grouch. He had met the man early that morning, along with his wife and their daughter, Calypso. Calypso seemed nice but was too hesitant to let loose and have fun. Harry blamed uptight uncle Grouch.
Behind the podium stood his aunt Narcy and uncle Lucius, as well as his aunt Lyra and uncle Gil, who was having to fend off a number of reporters who he clearly would have rather been boasting to regarding his adventures.
"Come now, Harry," said his aunt Minnie.
Harry grabbed her hand as they made their way to the podium, with Andy and Ted following behind them briskly. Aunt Minnie had told Harry to keep his head down until the right time, otherwise it things would get out of hand.
After he and his family stood beside the Malfoys, Amelia nodded to Bartemius that they were ready.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Bartemius said. "The Ministry thanks you for your patience."
"What's the news? Did you manage to find Harry Potter?" shouted someone among the crowd.
Bartemius said, "The Ministry has received the countless demands that action be taken, we have heard your plea. Indeed, Mr. Potter has been rescued and is in safe hands." Bartemius gestured at McGonagall, who despite not wanting to put Harry through this media circus, knew it was the only way to calm fears.
Harry walked forward and was brought forward and stood next to Gr-Crouch, who put a hand on Harry's shoulder. When they registered who he was, the large gathering erupted into applause and innumerable shutter clicks and camera flashes, forcing Harry to close his eyes.
Harry felt Amelia's hands on his guiding him off the podium. His aunt Minnie quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him close. He was grateful. Some of the reporters didn't seem keen on following him after she gave the The Look.
"See Harry? Nice and easy, wasn't it?" aunt Lyra asked him.
Harry nodded slowly. "I don't much like being famous though…"
McGonagall hugged him a bit, hoping he wasn't upset by being used that way, even if she didn't see much choice in the matter.
Lyra looked at McGonagall seriously and asked, "Were you able to convince Sprout to help set up the ritual space without Dumbledore finding out? Without her, setting up the grove is going to be difficult; I don't have a green thumb."
McGonagall nodded. "Pomona has agreed to assist us, provided she is allowed to be among the first batch of initiates taken in by the coven come the next equinox. She's even offered to acquire the fairies we require for the ritual."
Gilderoy seemed nervous about the ritual in question, as he asked, "Do the gents need to participate as well? You know me dear, ra-ra Morgana and all that. But, this blood binding ritual is a bit… creepy."
Lyra giggled at her husband's discomfort. "Oh Gil, starting the coven is women's business, don't worry your beautiful little head," she said playfully, pinching his cheek. "You should be present though, as a show of respect to our soon-to-be matron. Have to set a good example to the little ones."
Harry tugged in the sleeve of his aunt Minnie's blouse and asked, "What's a ritual?"
Once Amelia had rejoined him at the podium, Bartemius continued, "As you can see, the Ministry was quick to act. Young Mr. Potter was safely in my care hours after his abduction. And as Madame Bones can attest, I've apprehended the vile culprit responsible."
Amelia stepped forward to speak into the microphone. "At half-past midnight this morning, Mr. Crouch's residence was attacked by the very man we know to be responsible for the assault in Harry Potter, who again sought to harm him. What the assailant did not know was that it was a setup, the only people present were a team of Aurors and Mr. Crouch. He was quickly subdued by Mr. Crouch and is currently in DMLE custody awaiting his trial later this week."
There was a brief applause for Bartemius, who's hand shot up from the crowd. "Daniel Egerton, Galena Gazette. Who was the man responsible?"
Amelia eyed Crouch, who nodded. "The man apprehended by Mr. Crouch was a known Death Eater, Amycus Carrow."
The crowd became uproarious once again, until Bartemius Silenced them all to calm them. Once they had, a well-dressed blonde caught the attention of the two addressing the crowd.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet… though you all knew that." She winked at Amelia, who held back a grimace. "Why did the Ministry take so long to find Harry Potter? According to the Muggles he went missing at the beginning of June. Surely tracking down one boy isn't beyond the Ministry's capacity?" she remarked acidly.
Bartemius and Amelia felt a dilemma. On one hand, not telling would greatly decrease the esteem the public held for the Ministry. But they couldn't exactly tell the truth, not entirely, without making Harry's life more difficult than it was already going to be.
Bartemius took charge and said, "There were extenuating circumstances. Harry Potter is, as well all know, an extraordinary wizard. The reason he could evade us so thoroughly is unprecedented. He mastered the ability to Apparate before he was eight-years old."
As the crowd started reacting to this and other statements, Harry began tuning them out out of sheer boredom. After what seemed like an eternity, his uncle Crouch seemed to be wrapping up.
Another reporter raised their hand. "Xenophilius Lovegood, The Quibbler." At this, everyone groaned. Lovegood seemed oblivious to this, as he continued, "Rumor has it that despite the upcoming relaxation of the Wand Ban as it applies to goblins, Minister Fudge has an ongoing policy of executing goblins in shockingly creative ways, not the least of which includes baking them in pies. Is the Ministry willing to confirm or deny these allegations?"
Amelia struggled not to laugh, just managing to say, "The DMLE… has no comment… regarding any rumors of the Minister baking goblins into pies."
As his other aunts and uncles walked Harry back towards the exit, Harry spotted an angry looking man in a green bowler hat stomping towards the podium…
(4 Weeks Later, December 21st, 1988, Isle of Black - Exact Location Unplottable)
The more Harry got to know his new family, the more he expected the other shoe to drop. His life thus far made him feel justified in his cynicism.
Not that the Black family made him feel anything like unwelcome. To the contrary, they seemed quite interested in him and took him in without incident. His aunt Andromeda (Andy, as she preferred) was perhaps the nicest person he'd ever met. Her pleasant expressions and kind gestures gave him no indication that she was anything but caring toward him. The way she fussed over his eating habits and clothing were the exact opposite of his aunt Petunia, who saw anything he did in a negative lens.
Aunt Minnie reminded him of his old primary school teacher a bit due to her strictness, but she took the bulk of the work taking care of Harry. She was a teacher at a magic school (which Harry pestered her about endlessly) and even made her manse his primary home after the adoption meeting at the Ministry. Even his aunt Narcy was nice, if a bit slow to join the fun at times. But she was also rather fearless, such as when chased off a ghoul that had somehow ended up in his great Aunt Longbottom's manor.
Aunt Lyra was probably his favorite of the adults. Even though she would laugh at the strangest of things, and uncle Gil was always talking about some heroic deed he'd done, Lyra had a way of making him feel welcome. She'd play silly games with him and his friends (most of which revolved around scaring uncle Gil), perform neat magic spells and she even took him on a trip to the zoo once (Harry was sad, though not surprised, to find the boa constrictor back in its container).
No, it was his uncle Lucius and that old man Dumbledore who puzzled him most. Neither were overtly or truly mean to Harry, but there was always something about the way they looked at and spoke to Harry that made him feel put under a microscope. Dumbledore would slip in comments and questions - not all directed at Harry - when he stopped by aunt Minnie's house, and Harry would just barely notice the quick, piercing gaze he would send Harry's way. What he was looking for Harry didn't know; he couldn't understand what he was supposed to know about Dark Magic or "Fracturing Muggle-Wizard relations"... he didn't even know what that last thing meant.
Lucius seemed interested in Harry's Muggle friends. He voiced his questions in a concerned tone of voice about how they were adjusting to being around so many magical beings, but it didn't seem to match the disinterested look in his eyes when he would see Gwen and Mitchell return from their jobs over the couple of weeks after Harry moved in with Minnie.
Luckily, Harry's younger relatives among the Black family were as fun as they were varied. Just a few days prior, Harry had been introduced to a distant cousin, Neville Longbottom, after something uncle Lucius called "a successful recruitment" with Neville's grandmother Augusta. Neville was a somewhat dumpy boy with eyebrow-length brown hair and whose shyness made his speech inaudible at times. But he seemed to be breaking out of his shell a bit as he played with Harry more. Neville thought he might be a Squib, but Harry was certain he'd seen Neville magick a tree root over his foot the day before, causing him to trip.
Then there was another distant cousin, Draco Malfoy. He was strikingly similar in mannerisms and looks to his father, but he actually had a real sense of humor that Lucius either lacked or suppressed. He didn't seem interested in Neville initially, but a few games of hide and seek can make fast friends. His overly formal means of introduction were good for a laugh though. Harry would forevermore insist his real name was "Cousin Harry" When Draco was present; Draco suggested "Potty" was the better name.
But Harry's favorite new family member by far was Tonks. She was even more fun-loving than Cameron had been, very cute and thanks to her Muggle-born father she could relate to the Muggle references Harry would occasionally make that others didn't understand. Her tendency to cause accidental mischief due to persistent clumsiness was a comedy staple. Never again would uncle Gilderoy leave a flask of Shrinking Solution on the table lest Tonks happen to be in the vicinity. Whenever she and Neville were in the same room, the wise among the occupants would slip into an adjacent room out of self-preservation.
However, it was the fact she shared the rare Metamorphmagus power that entranced Harry the most. Using their shapeshifting had become a common game for them, one he and Tonks were playing currently since Tonks was on her holiday break from Hogwarts. Neville or Draco would briefly show Harry and Tonks a photo of a random person they found somewhere. After 3 seconds the picture would be removed and Harry and Tonks would try to metamorph their face to mimic the photograph they'd seen within 5 seconds. Harry didn't win very often, but it was so much fun he didn't really care.
At present, they were in a small cottage on an Unplottable island somewhere north of the Isle of Man. In the living room, Neville brought a Chocolate Frog card to Harry and Tonks as his selection for the final, winner-take-all round. As Harry studied to occupant of the card - a female figure he'd become quite familiar with lately, one Morgana - he prepared to mimic her features.
"3, 2, 1; Go!" Neville said while failing to suppress a giggle.
"You're going down, Harry!" Tonks said confidently.
"In your dreams, Nymphadora," Harry replied.
Harry and Tonks quickly began changing their faces to match the card. Their hair transitioned into the wavy black hair depicted, and began lengthening until it reached their lower backs. Their magic quickly began to change the structure of their faces for match the more rounded jaw structure of Morgana's. This was where Harry had the advantage. Tonks just wasn't as used to changing her facial structure as Harry was due to the multiple identities he used when on the streets.
However, once they began altering their torso and lower body, Harry predictably slowed down. Ever since Tonks's warning, he had been wary of using his metamorphing to even copy pictures of women, despite her telling him that copying a picture was perfectly safe.
Tonks finished two whole seconds before Harry did and upon the five second time limit passing, she had done a more accurate mimic than he had.
Neville looked at Harry with a barely disguised smile. "Sorry Harry, looks like Tonks won again."
Harry shrugged having expected it. After asking Tonks about what she was doing at school before the break, they were joined by a few others who came in through the back door. Susan Bones and Draco walked in chattering about what they'd been doing at primary school the day prior (Harry would get to join them come January). Calypso and Daphne conversed with each other in quieter tones, though Harry caught the words "Witch Weekly" and tuned them out. It was a paper that managed to bore Harry even more than the incomprehensible Daily Prophet. If that's what adults read Harry was set on not becoming one. Surely he could just shapeshift back into a kid?
"Staring off into space again, Potty?" Draco asked. "I know I'm good-looking but a relationship between us is out of the question."
Harry scowled at Draco, whose smug grin never failed to annoy him. Well, when it was directed at him.
"Yea right, Draco. We all know you've got a crush on Daphne. Even Neville says so," Harry argued back. Neville nodded slightly in agreement. Ever loyal, that one.
Draco ignored the now-common jab and looked at Harry's dirty clothes (he'd spent the morning with Lyra combing woods in the area for snakes to talk to). "And here I thought aunt Minerva was educating you properly. If I didn't know any better I'd think Neville were your teacher. He lacks any subtlety, you lack any pride. One might assume you were both Muggles."
Harry was close to hosing Draco down with a Water-making Charm but Tonks, who always watched his and Draco's interactions for entertainment, broke them up by standing between them.
"Sorry boys, no time for this. It's just about-" she looked over at the clock on the wall. "Yes, it's time we get a move on. Everyone will be arriving soon for ritual and we've got to get everyone situated beforehand. Get dressed in the ceremonial robes and be down in five." Despite much groaning, the three boys went off to the guest rooms of the small house to change into the elaborately decorated robes, vest and mask they had to wear for the ritual that was to take place within the hour.
Calypso giggled and said, "Why didn't they just get dressed earlier? We've had hours."
"Boys," Susan answered simply, leading to much giggling by the rest of the girls.
(30 Minutes Later)
Narcissa was experiencing a curious but expected mixture of unease and excitement. They were not long from calling Morgana's spirit back to the mortal plane to make a Covenant with her. It was the only sort of quasi-Necromancy that actually worked.
In her hands, Narcissa held an ancient tome which, despite being well over a millennium in age, looked pristine and whose magic hummed with powerful intensity and an almost seductive pull that was irritating to resist.
The Grimoire Most Black.
She'd wanted to open it not long after Kreacher Apparated her into Number 12 a few weeks earlier. However, she knew she and her family needed to give it up without attempting to copy or otherwise salvage the untold knowledge and repository of their family's resource caches documented within the uncountable pages within it. To do so would diminish its immense value and thus nix its use for the ritual. It might even cause their would-be family goddess to kill them in retaliation, something they were itching to avoid.
The thirteen of them, Black witches scattered about the British Isles by their various walks in life and family situations, had gathered together in their ancestral land, somewhere north of the Isle of Man. It had long since been hidden from Muggles and magical beings alike by the very witch they intended to deify.
Wizards, especially British wizards, assumed Avalon existed. Only the House of Black knew where it was. Emphasis on was. If the kingdom of the fairies still existed, it had been so thoroughly hidden that even the best spellcasters of the age had failed to catch so much as a whiff, much less a whisper, of its present location. But there was no mistaking the powerful magic that encroached upon her upon setting footsteps in the island, an ever-present surge that made all too clear what had once been.
The thirteen of them were seated in a large circle around a circular altar carved out of the blackest obsidian. At its center was a large pit that would house their sacrificial fire to which their offerings would be given.
Around them was the exquisite grove Pomona Sprout had spent the last month painstakingly preparing to most appropriately appeal to Morgana. The grass was a brilliant green, something all in who would be be in attendance would match with their green robes and dresses. On the outskirts of the grove were numerous Silverleaf trees alight with the multicolored glow of many dozens of fairies. Sprout had again come to the rescue. She had a contact in in WHIFF - the Witches Holistic Institute for Friends of Fairies - who she and McGonagall briefed on the situation. It had taken some doing since communicating with fairies was difficult enough on a small scale, but once they had the gist of what the ritual entailed, they were all to happy to participate.
Half a dozen meters away from the circle of witches were rows of conjured seats that the rest of the family and the few invited guests would be seated. Though none would be members of the inner circle just yet, taking part in the ritual, even in a minor role, would set a good impression.
"Do you think she's gone dumb and deaf?" Cassiopeia Black asked loudly. "I always hoped Cygnus wouldn't pass on the Black Madness but alas…"
"Hush Cassie," chided Callidora Longbottom. "She's just entranced by the ritual space. Pomona did a smashing job, after all."
Her daughter Augusta complained, "Yes, well, I do hope we get started soon. I'm going to catch a cold out here. Sitting outside in the dead of winter with these bloody thin clothes on… If this blasted ritual hadn't required wands to be absent I could at least apply a nice Warming Charm."
Amelia Bones shook her head. "Come on ladies, we don't have time complain. We're lucky the island is enchanted to keep out the snow. Calm your minds so that we may complete the coming task without error."
In any other situation a number of those present would have made a snide remark in response. But Amelia's position as the soon-to-be coven's High Witch made her the go-to person go settle arguments and to represent their number publicly. They had debated for several hours on who was to hold the position. Minerva had been a popular choice, even from Amelia. But Minerva had astutely pointed out that in terms of political accomplishments and magical prowess, Amelia was several notches above her. She was, after all, the only spellcaster other than Dumbledore to duel Voldemort to a standstill. And as the head of the DMLE, she was accustomed to dealing with many conflicting personalities and viewpoints in high-stress situations.
Minerva suddenly cast a wandless Shield Charm around them, which was soon met with a powerful Blasting Curse, just barely managing to remain intact. Because the Isle of Black was inaccessible to anyone not related to a their line within at least seven generations, the pool of people who could have attacked them was very limited. Then there was the question of how they even knew they were on the Isle.
"Oh a clever half-breed," came a voice many recognized. Andromeda and Narcissa in particular looked stunned.
The man walking into the ritual space from the fairy dotted trees was Cygnus Black, the father of Narcissa and Andromeda. As Cassie had alluded to, his state of mind (not to mention body) was obviously erratic and not at peak.
"Here I was thinking someone else managed to find Avalon when my Extrasensory Perception Charm went off. But what do I find?" he asked mockingly, looking at each witch in turn. "Half-bloods, low-class witches and the shame of my flesh fraternizing with witches who should know better. Just what do you think you're doing defacing this place?"
"Attacking first and asking questions later? I see Dad was right about you, Uncle," Lyra said with a glare directed at the man.
"As if I care about what the spawn of that blood traitor Phineas thinks," Cygnus replied snidely. "But I am disappointed to see you here, daughter." He stared at Narcissa as if she ought to be devastated for failing him.
Narcissa looked at him impassively. Though she was saddened it had come to this, she had come to grips with the fact her father was beyond redemption at this point. Even though he hadn't directly supported Voldemort, he never asserted desire for anything less than the same world Voldemort sought to create. Attacking the coven without provocation was well passed the line.
"Do you really think you can overcome all thirteen of us?" Narcissa asked in an icy tone. "You were always a bit of a chauvinist, but I know you haven't gone that mad."
Cygnus snorted. "Who says I'm alone? You've seen the papers, you know he escaped Azkaban. Who do you think has been keeping Sirius off the radar of the Ministry? Fierce, powerful and wears the pride of the House of Black that one. He should more than even the odds."
Narcissa was taken aback by that. She and Andromeda had hoped beyond hope that Sirius had indeed been threatened by Voldemort into giving up the Potters. But if he was working with Cygnus…
"Where's Sirius then?" Andromeda asked challengingly. "Sirius isn't a coward like you. He wouldn't attack from the shadows."
"He's waiting on my signal, I just-," he began, before he spotted the book he recognized well, sitting in his daughter's arms.
"How did you get that?" he asked fiercely. "What are you trying to… No, you're not?" Cygnus inspected the area more closely. A ritual bonfire, an altar inscribed with an ancient Rune Scheme, the setting in a grove. It was so obvious.
"A coven? Are you lot out of your mind?! You would destroy our family and for what? I think it's time to put you in your place." Cygnus raised his wand, his intent to kill unmistakable.
A strong Stunning Spell shot out the treeline behind Cygnus, who managed to parry the spell away from him despite coming from his blindspot. A thin man walked out of it and toward them. Despite his clear degradation after six years under constant Dementor influence, Sirius Black still exuded the righteous anger many recalled fondly in the first Wizard War.
"Sorry Amelia. I saw you were about the do the deed but he was droning on and on like an Augurey in spring," Sirius said nonchalantly. "I did like you defending my honor Andy. Probably didn't quite live up to it by attacking him from behind though."
Andromeda, who was near to years at seeing him again, said, "Oh don't be daft Sirius. Like that matters now."
"Tsk, a traitor to the end," Cygnus shouted angrily. "Am I the only true Black left?"
Sirius shrugged, keeping his wand trained on his uncle. "You really thought I was Voldemort's stooge? I'm not Bella, Uncle. I have honor enough to know cold-blooded murder for fun and domination is fucking absurd. You've lost."
Now that he couldn't count on assistance, Cygnus was beginning to sweat. One could not Apparate to nor Disapparate from the Isle of Black. He'd have to fight his way to the water, a task all the more challenging since Sirius had a wand, even if the witches didn't.
Not that it mattered, as in the next instant he found himself pulled underground by the roots of a tree, leaving only his head above the surface. His wand had been knocked out of his grasp in the process.
Amelia shook her head. "He really does talk too much." She looked at Sirius, and felt her heart skip a beat. She'd been utterly devastated when he'd apparently betrayed them all, she hadn't even batted an eye when he, like many others, weren't given a trial. It had broken her heart given their progressing relationship those six years ago. Azkaban had worn him down considerably as well.
"I'm supposed to arrest you on sight, Sirius," Amelia said slowly, not removing her eyes from his. "But if you aren't lying… we can at least hear you out. But right now we've got work to do and it has to be done tonight."
Sirius nodded and watched as Cygnus was bound and levitated away. "We'll talk about it afterwards. Now, as the named heir to the House of Black, what's this about a coven?"
(30 More Minutes Later)
Religion had been an odd thing for Harry. He remembered many times all those months ago when he'd disguise himself and go to the church services at St. Matthews. Try as he might, he could never understand a thing. He never felt the "spirit of the Lord" or whatever the old man heading the service called it.
When he first saw people praying, he thought they were talking to themselves. That's just what it looked like. But it quickly became clear these people believed this praying would do something. Harry, disguised as an adult, had asked the minister if they were performing magic. The man had been highly offended by the remark, but Harry certainly couldn't understand why.
He then figured one had to actually pray to God himself to really get it. And so he did. Over and over again. Nothing he asked for happened. He never got food when he was hungry. His parents never came back to life even though he really needed them. The prayers couldn't even give him a nice bed to sleep on instead of the floor, so he ended up having to steal one using Apparition.
And so Harry quickly concluded that religion was a load of nonsense and God was bunk.
"Draco, this ritual thing. Is it a bit like church?" Harry asked as the kids and the adults all their way to the seats a few minutes before the ritual was to start.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You mean that Muggle religious place? No way, we worship real gods, make offerings to them, request for certain intercessions, that sort of thing. I don't understand the ritual exactly, but my father says we're making a new goddess."
"Wow," Harry said. "We can do that?"
Draco shrugged. "It's what he told me."
Although the vest and green robes were a bit much for Harry, he was glad they kept him slightly warm. Even with all the people there and the lack of snow thanks to magic, December was December. Everyone present was wearing a Triskelion pendant around their neck. The three swirling lines were composed of snakes, which Harry rather liked, even if he wasn't one for jewelry.
Everyone began getting seated. Harry sat beside Draco and his father on one side and Ted and Nymphadora Tonks on the other; they had been allotted the front row. He spotted the Greengrasses the row behind them. Susan and Neville were sitting over next to Calypso and her father, who bore strikingly similarly composed expressions. Gwen and Mitchell had even been allowed to come, despite the objections his uncle Lucius had made; they were still seated in the back row, which Harry felt was intentional on his uncle's part. There were maybe a dozen others that Harry didn't recognize, so he turned back around as the ritual began.
Susan's aunt Amelia began things with a shout. A huge orange fire erupted in the pit at the center of the black altar. The witches, all dressed in identical green dress robes, began encircling the fire while chanting words the like of which Harry had never heard. After three revolutions around the fire they stopped at the original positions.
Amelia shouted again while the others continued chanting, "We call upon Hecate, the goddess of magic and witchcraft. As with magic itself, you defy complete understanding and conceptualization. We each offer a piece of our magic that you would make it one and true!
"Let it be so!" the remaining twelve cried in reply, as did the adults sitting around Harry. The thirteen witches's hands were outstretched towards the pit of fire. A magic Harry didn't recognized left their hands and entered the flames. The bonfire sparked brightly as if in answer to their request, its color fading from orange into a light blue.
Harry didn't understand what they were doing, but he could feel the change. The air was as if charged by lightning, a powerful force seemed to be oppressing him from all sides.
The thirteen continued to encircle the fire thrice more, chanting in the strange language one more. This time, his aunt Andromeda stepped forward, carrying a huge bowl filled with what looked to be a lot of meat.
"We call upon Hestia, goddess of the hearth and the family!" Andromeda called out. "We make this offering in the hope that you will safeguard our families and our homes. Without you, the ties which bind us together as family loses all cohesion."
"Let it be so!" everyone else shouted in response as Andromeda cast the meat into the fire, which roared aloud upon consuming the offering. The children even got in on it, catching on after the first time. It made Harry feel a bit giddy to join in, though he managed to avoid giggling. It would feel rather inappropriate.
The flames transitioned from blue to a pink much like the color of Tonks's hair (Harry wondered if it was intentional), just as the atmosphere changed. Harry felt a pleasant warmth begin spreading throughout his body. As if he'd had a meal and had sat in from of a roaring fire at the end of a long day. It reminded him of the best times he'd spent with Gwen, Mitchell and Cameron.
'Is this what Draco was talking about?' Harry wondered in curiosity. It was a very peculiar feeling to have something unseen affect him so. He wondered if this what those churchgoing Muggles felt when they prayed.
After once again circling the fire three times, a red-haired older woman he'd met once - Cedrella Weasley - stepped towards the fire. She raised her right hand and conjured a bright white ball of light in the air above them. Since she wasn't talking, Harry didn't know what was going on.
But then, from all around the grove, they were deluged by tumultuous tinkling sound. Small flying things, glittering in the light of the full moon above, swarmed toward to fire from sides, hovering in the air around the fire in a circle of their own.
"They're fairies," his uncle Lucius whispered. Harry and Draco nodded.
Cedrella spoke out in a commanding voice, "We call upon Morgana Pendragon - Morgan le Fey, the Queen of Avalon. Though you walk this mortal coil no more, your people have need of you, if you are so willing!"
Cedrella was handed the Grimoire Most Black by Narcissa beside her, and raised it above her head.
"Our enemies gather, Lady Morgana. We present our family grimoire as a sacrifice. Though it contains magic not yet known and resources untapped, still your power is greater. This we give as tribute to make and empower you as the family goddess of the House of Black!"
Harry watched in fascination as she cast the large book into the flames as the fairies above used their own limited magic to send beams of light into the pink fire at the same time.
For a moment all was still. It was as if the world had gone mute. The wind no longer blew, the sound of the waves had gone dead silent. Even the tinkling of fairy wings had disappeared. Harry wondered if something had gone wrong.
But then, just as suddenly, everything came back and with a vengeance. The ground began to tremor a bit and the flames of the bonfire shot skyward, forcing the fairies to back away a bit to avoid dying. The fire quickly dissipated, leaving the figure of a woman standing in its place.
Harry had never seen the like of this woman. No, more than that, he'd never felt anything like her. She exuded power in a way that was impossible to deny, her presence made him consciously on edge. She was average in height, bearing wavy black hair that reached midway down her back. Her eyes glowed blue, making them easy to pick out from afar. She wore a black fur coat of sorts and, reminding him of Lyra, had a beautiful blue snake on her shoulders. Most strikingly, however, were the large translucent wings sticking out of her back.
"I have returned to Albion? No, to the old Avalon, it would seem." Although she seemed to be speaking at a normal volume, Harry head her as if she were speaking from right next to him.
The woman looked at the thirteen witches around her, who all knelt down in her presence.
"Oh my, I never expected to be summoned for such a thing," she mused. "And why would you request me to be your deity? Surely Merlin and Arthur soured all of Albion to me?"
As High Witch, Amelia stepped forward to answer. "We of the Black family never placed total faith in Merlin and his successors. Our enemies seek to end us, one who even takes up the mantle as the Dark Lord of this age. Only you, Lady Morgana, have all that we need to succeed against this foe where those of Merlin have and will fail."
"Hm, you make a most compelling case; my distaste for Merlin is well sated by your flattery. You are to be my Chosen, your coven's High Witch, yes?", Morgana asked.
"It is so," Amelia answered.
Morgana's snake began talking to her; Harry understood its words and Morgana's response.
'Is it wise to do this, mistress?' the blue snake asked. 'Unlikely as it may be, Hades does not take kindly to those who even attempt to leave his realm.'
'I believe he will make an, ah, religious exception. I would so love to have sport in the realm of the living once more,' Morgana answered in Parseltongue.
Harry called out, 'You should do it! We have lots of fun with magic and stuff.'
Morgana froze and turned to look at Harry. He covered his mouth, realizing his interruption might have been very bad. Morgana snapped her fingers and Harry found himself standing in front of her. See was looking directly at Harry with an intensity that had Harry on the verge of Apparating away. Then Morgana smiled at him.
"Oh my, you're an interesting one. You can speak the snake tongue and… yes indeed, you walk light and shadow in equal measures. A curious, though I suspect unintentional circumstance," she said conversationally. "Your magic seems unusually adept; it's rarely even controllable at such an age."
"W-what?" asked Harry.
Morgana's snake hissed a warning at her. "I know I know, this has the look of the Fates work all over it. I'm not getting on their bad side."
Harry was more confused than ever. He was going to ask what she was talking about when Morgana clapped her hand once.
"What's your name?" she asked with a grin.
"H-Harry Potter," he said in a small voice.
She ruffled his hair and said, "How would you like my pet snake, Harry?" Said snake hissed (actually hissed, no words) at this offer. "Oh don't mind him, he's usually a good companion. Except in winter. And maybe spring and fall. Never mind, the point is I'm letting you keep him as your familiar."
Harry smiled widely. "Really? Yes please!"
"I think I've found a second Chosen," Morgana said. She waved her hand at Amelia and then at Harry.
His left hand hurt for a moment, and when he looked at it he saw the same Triskelion as his pendant appear on his hand as a tattoo.
Morgana turned back to Amelia. "I agree to your request of a Covenant, High Witch. Complete the bond of blood ritual to seal it."
Amelia nodded, and despite feeling very lost about whatever just happened with their Lady and Harry. She pulled out the ceremonial blade, a small white knife made of platinum. Amelia made a small nick in her hand and said her name aloud, causing blood to flow onto the knife. This cycle was repeated with each witch in the circle until it was handed back to Amelia, stained dark red.
"We present this for the Covenant, Lady Morgana." Amelia presented it to Morgana.
"It is accepted," the ancient witch replied as she took the knife from Amelia. As she grabbed it, Morgana was bathed in a bright white light that seemed to swallow up the entire grove. When it faded, Morgana took a deep breath.
"I have returned," she said with a smile. "Better than ever, it would seem. I always felt like a goddess among other sorcerers; now I really am one."
The thirteen witches broke the circle and knelt down before her. Harry figured he should join them, but Morgana stopped him.
"The kneeling is ever so good for my pride ladies, but it's harder to do what must be done if your eyes are on the ground."
Sheepishly, the Black Witches stood in front of their family goddess, looking at her in awe. If Harry didn't buy into the whole religion thing before, he was pretty convinced at this point.
"My coven… the Coven of Albion. We have much work to do. When I return come the next day, we have much to discuss and plan," Morgana said in a firm tone.
"Yes, milady!" they replied.
"Oh, before I forget. Harry here's my snake. He's house trained of course, but he'll work himself into a snit if he doesn't have a nice plump rat everyday," she said, eyeing her old familiar pointedly.
The snake hissed a word Harry wasn't allowed to say.
"Then I bid farewell to you all until the next day. Oh, and Lyra, love the hair," Morgana said happily.
"I knew you would!" Lyra said with a wide smile. "My husband, the cute one over there, he made this brilliant shampoo using occammy egg and-"
Before she could finish, Morgana vanished in a pillar of fire to an unknown location.
Everyone let out the breath they were holding.
"That was absolutely terrifying," Cassiopeia said as she sat on the grass. "We need to do more rituals, I need that kind of excitement in my life."
Lucretia Prewett shook her head. "I hope future ones aren't so intense. I thought I was going to faint…"
"Morgana was even more formidable than I dared hope," said Verona Selwyn. "You could practically taste the power in the air, and that was before the Covenant."
Andromeda and Amelia walked over to Harry to see that he had indeed been give the mark of the Chosen, just as Amelia had.
"Why did she mark Harry though?" Andromeda asked. "He didn't even bond in blood."
Amelia shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. From the way she said it, she found him interesting, I suppose?"
Lyra joined them. "No, I think she saw what I did. There's something there, but I couldn't understand it. Figures she would keep up the mystery instead of just telling us what it is."
The snake - which Morgana seemed to have forgotten to tell him the name of - began hissing at Harry again.
'I need a rat, like, now. Do you know how hungry one gets after being dead for a thousand years?'
Lyra snapped. "Oh Harry, I can't believe I forgot you were Parselmouth. What's he saying?"
Narcissa thumped Lyra in the head, causing the latter to jump backwards and looked at her in annoyance.
"What do you mean you knew he was a Parselmouth? Why didn't you tell us?" Narcissa asked testily.
Lyra rubbed the back of her head nervously as she chuckled. "Oops, did I forget to mention that?"
(A/N): Whew, that was a lot of words. Tell me what you thought in a Review, they keep me motivated to write.
A lot of stuff covered in this chapter, but I felt it was necessary to get a move on with the main premise of the story (though I admit, it makes the chapter feel a bit rushed as I read it). In case I didn't make the clear in previous author's notes, this story is clearly derivative of the story "Reclamation of Black Magic". Unfortunately with RoBM, as became explicitly clear chapter 26 (I believe), the religion aspect of that story is almost entirely superfluous. Morgana isn't really deified by the coven, and they don't seem to really worship her (despite saying Morgana had blessed them). That's something I didn't want to do in this story. The religious aspect, despite mostly being made up on the spot by me (I did lots of things in threes), is intended to be integral to the characters, not an excuse to make every other character fear the coven for unspecified reasons.
Don't take my words too critically of RoBM. I love that story, it's one of my favorites. And in all honesty, I'd say it's better written and develops more interestingly than this story of mine. But the religious aspect of that story, as of June 22, 2018, has disappointed me so far.
Anyway, Hogwarts will start either next chapter or the chapter after that, meaning Hermione returns. Sorry about the abrupt appearance and disappearance last chapter. Since I didn't want to just follow the canon checklist, having Harry and Hermione bond over something besides the Troll incident was a must for me. To make it easier to visualize, Morgana in this story is intended to look like Katie McGrath in her portrayal of the character in the BBC's show "Merlin".
I'm also putting up a poll for this story on my profile as soon as I upload. What Hogwarts House do you want Harry in? Which do you think matches his current characterization in this story? Please go to my profile and Vote if you want to influence this. Favorite and Follow!