quick update for you all ^^ and several more quick updates to come because I wrote ahead :P they still need editing though so you'll see them soon!
I also had the time to go back, read and edit everything of Part II I've written now so once that is finished, I'll do the same as with part I and re-upload everything.
Enjoy
He was shaken awake by a rough snout, and rolled away to press his face in the moss, not in the mood to get up yet. Last night had been another exhausting one, trying to control a frustrated Xaphia during his speaking-lessons.
"Drraguharth!" the dragon rumbled, and Charlie rolled his eyes behind closed eyelids. "Upff!"
"I'll get up, I'll get up," he muttered. It was brilliant that the dragon had learnt how to speak… most of the time. Not so much when he preferred sleeping a couple more hours. He didn't even bother to point out the 'f' sound at the end of Xaphia's word, even though he'd been finally able to teach the dragon how to say words ending with a 'p' without it mere days ago. It was more frustrating to teach him to properly speak than he'd originally thought, but he always reminded himself to keep in mind that the vocal chords, tongue and mouth were very different than those of a human. But that Xaphia wanted nothing less than perfection himself didn't help much…
"What is it?"
"Wharr ish comin," the dragon spoke darkly. "Shmell of i.. ith?"
"It."
"It," Xaphia thoughtfully repeated, rolling his tongue. "Shmell of it, floathinon airrr. Lande beyond!"
Charlie stiffened as the dragon pointed to the sea with his tail, in the direction of the mainland. He cursed, suddenly trying to remember how many days had passed since he'd discovered Xaphia could talk, how many weeks perhaps. He had been so caught up in his own little world… He cursed profoundly, angry at himself. He had completely lost all sense of time… the last time he'd gone out with a small dragon to snatch a prophet in a nearby town seemed ages ago.
"We must go at once… I can't believe that I just sat here, doing nothing!" he exclaimed, distressed. I need news, I need to know who is doing what and where…"
Xaphia huffed and suddenly let out a mighty roar. An arrowhead shot out of the bushed, dropping several papers on Charlie's head. He winced and picked them up from the ground, blinking when seeing a stack of prophets and… Quibblers?
"Why was I not given these before?" he demanded to know.
"Bizzzy." The black dragon answered, shrugging slightly, obviously not seeing what the big deal was. Charlie pinched his nose but rather than reprimanding Xaphia, he sat down and started to read, flipping through unimportant articles to gain some amount of truth. When done with the prophets, he still didn't know much, but he froze when humouring himself and flipping over one of Lovegood's pulp magazines. 'The word of the Dark Lord,' 'The real elections,' 'Black's name cleared,' were one of the few headlines that immediately sprung into view. Deciding to skip everything and move onto the most recent edition, his heart skipped a turn.
Quibbler: 23 Januari
World-wide war?
The day many of us feared has arrived: after the first election speeches on the 18th, the countries from the mainland decided they could no longer ignore the visions of the Dark Lord as they are about to turn from dream to reality. Last Monday the Dark Lord received an official Declaration of War. Who will support us and who will be against us? What countries are really for freedom? The Dark Lord revealed not all opposing countries, but what he did say was that the first battle has been planned for next Saturday in France, on the plains near Beauxbatons. –which, as readers subscribed to this magazine for years, know as not a school but rather an experiment of the French government where armies of Veela are bred and trained, hence the irresistible glamours that surround each and every student there.-
Charlie frowned, highly doubting the claims about Beauxbatons. It seemed that, though Lovegood spread the Dark's word now, he hadn't completely foregone his conspiracy theories. He skipped the next few lines which ranted on about horrible experiments and skimmed the rest of the paragraph. There was nothing of importance in it further, other than the worry of Lovegood about the war costing lives… and votes?
Frowning, he took several Quibblers from before that date, and nearly choked when seeing Sirius' face under the headline 'Minister candidates.' For a moment, he thought it was yet again one of Lovegood's bizarre stories, but when reading it, the wording of it all sounded suspiciously… Sirius. However, he wondered where the dragons had gotten these. From the article he could make out that Lovegood didn't think anyone unsubscribed could get their hands or paws on an edition of this.
"How did you get these?" he asked Xaphia, who had been walking around restlessly.
"Was conceallled, drraghon eyes reveallled." Xaphia mysteriously said, approaching him, sliding his head over Charlie's cheeks, coming to rest on his shoulder. The man reached up to stroke the side of it, smiling when Xaphia shuddered in obvious pleasure.
"We shall head to France," Charlie suddenly decided. "In three days time. It's time to reveal ourselves now."
"Frransh?" the dragon asked, head slightly cocked.
"It's a country. Probably the land you pointed at." The other didn't answer, merely pushing him further until he fell over. "What are you… Ah!" his breath caught as a long, sleek tongue slithered over his belly, hitching up his shirt. "Xaphia!" he exclaimed, still slightly uncomfortable with the dragon's boldness. While he had come to regard the dragon more as a… as a person in the past weeks, it was still hard for him to acknowledge his own feelings, while the other didn't seem to have that problem at all. And still, there was so much else to consider… Inter-special marriages were not unheard of, but that was the case with vampires and human, or Veela and humans… at least a human and something else that was human-like…
He squirmed beneath Xaphia's ministrations, giving up as the dragon growled loudly, a warning growl that he'd learned to recognise as a 'stay still'. He didn't like admitting it, but at times like these, he often feared the dragon, who could crush him easily, rip out his throat with only a slight movement of teeth if he wouldn't do as desired…
Xaphia suddenly pulled away, gazing at him with an intensity that made his skin crawl even more. "You… afraid?" Charlie swallowed dryly, wanting to deny it but unable to as he noticed his heart beating in his chest with fear instead of desire, nails digging into the soil and moss.
"Yes," he whispered, shivering lightly when the other moved and raised a paw.
But the claws that shimmered in the light of the sun did not puncture his skin, instead clicking lightly against each other as, with the softest of movements, they came to rest against his cheek. He nuzzled his face in it, smelling moss and fire, and the slightest hint of salt as his own tears were smeared over it.
"I underrstande." The dragon softly rumbled, lying next to him, wings spreading so one of them covering Charlie like a blanket, or rather a giant umbrella, the skin translucent against the sun, the veins through which the hot, hot blood coursed clearly visible. Charlie curled up to Xaphia's side, muttering apologies until the other bent his neck to drape his head around Charlie's. It was an odd feeling, his head against the dragon's shoulder blade and Xaphia's head on the other side of his, so large that the snout rested against his lower arm, the neck supporting his own head like a pillow.
"I know you wouldn't hurt me," he mumbled, a sense of calm finally settling over him.
"I prrromisshe." Xaphia lisped.
He looked round the table, his fingertips pressed together as he peered over them. Weary faces met his, and he knew that the last defeat was still fresh on everyone's mind.
"This is a good thing," he reassured them yet again. They didn't seem very convinced.
"Albus, we have barely recovered… a third of the Order was slaughtered last time… to go into battle again? We had hoped to gain more followers since then, but our numbers stay low. Nearly everyone who wanted to join the Order already did so, and those who were still hesitating decided not to after we pathetically lost the last fight," Minerva spoke up. "I understand that, if we are to fight with the foreign armies we will be just a part of a larger army, but is it really necessary to do so? Is it not better to skip a fight…?"
"No," Dumbledore spoke, forceful enough to make a few members look up in surprise. "We cannot let him win, we cannot even give him a chance, or the idea that he's scared us off with that disgusting surprise raid. Good shall prevail in the end, I am convinced of that, but we have to fight for it. It is true that we have not had an increase in members as we'd hoped, but I imagine that will change soon if Sirius manages to become Minister. You were wise to pull back, Kingsley," he said, nodding to the large man.
"We haven't seen an awful lot of Black since, even weeks prior to his appearance at the Ministry," a man spoke, a newer member. "Are you sure he is still with the Order?"
"I don't doubt it," the headmaster spoke. "He has been with us since the first war and has never been anything but loyal to the Order. His disappearing without a word had good reasons and it's not up to you to doubt that. I trust him, and that should be enough for you."
The words were icier than he'd wanted them to sound, but they did their work: the man –Kyle?- shut up. In truth, there was slight doubt nagging him even as he spoke the words. Sirius had been very loyal to him, even after Azkaban… even after it was clear that Harry had left them… but wasn't he going a tad too far from the Order now? Ever since he'd gotten the Minister-business in his head, Sirius had not attended anymore meetings and had been mainly unavailable. Of course, Albus understood that the man must be busy with his campaign, but there was still that hint, that doubt that was itching against his skull, a doubt that had only increased since he had heard Sirius' speech about not wanting to be influenced… But even that he could understand, and his guiding words were not exactly a bad influence were they?
"We go and fight, no matter our numbers. And that's the last of it." Albus decided, shaking all thought of Sirius from his mind for now. He was driving himself crazy with this. "I'll send word out towards the Alliance to expect us to participate. We will need Portkeys to the exact area and a means to identify our allies."
"Simple, everyone not wearing a mask," Snape answered, sneering as always.
Albus didn't know what had possessed him to give the man another chance… he knew that the vow Severus had taken was to Harry and not to him, but he'd felt compelled to drag the man out of his dungeons after it became clear that, even after Harry had switched sides, Severus still hated the boy with a passion. It was disconcerting that the potion's master hadn't died yet, and was thus not doing anything to make life difficult for Harry, but that didn't mean that he was actively aiding him either. Perhaps the real reason for Dumbledore accepting him back though, was that the rest of the Order had become anxious about Snape's lack of participation in Order business the past months.
Albus' first thought when Harry revealed himself an ally of Voldemort was to put Snape out of the castle, but he had held back, not being one wanting to admit he'd been wrong in front of the Order. And now, it was that same pride that had led him to accept Snape back… Even if the man died as a result during the battle, it would at least save Albus from losing face by having to admit that Severus was on 'Voldemort's' side after all.
"Does that mean we get to shoot you?" someone said dryly, causing Snape to scowl.
"I won't be wearing a mask today," he answered, but Albus could detect a tremor in that usually cold, distant voice. No matter, this would be Severus' chance to reveal his loyalties… He hated Voldemort with a passion still, Albus knew, but what would he value more, his own life or the Light? Or would he pull one of his impossible stunts and manage to come out alive without betraying the Light?
The Twins grinned, sprinting from one side of the room to the other, adjusting the transparent bands over everyone's eyes who wasn't yet familiar with them, their invention finally perfected. Sadly, there was only a very limited number available still. Harry had had the honour of trying out the finished product already, and had trained with it a few times, having to admit the Twins' genius. They gave a perfect vision all around, and even widened the view a bit vertically as the material was a tad slanted. When Harry had asked whether they couldn't better have made a whole bubble around the wearer's head, they had shaken their head in disappointment however, explaining that it disoriented too much as it would distort the view too much because of the curves, giving the effect of a magic mirror... A Muggle magic mirror, that was.
Harry understood what they meant, having seen several of those before when Mrs Figgs hadn't been able to look after him while Dudley wanted to go to the fun fair and Vernon and Petunia had to go away and thus insisted that Dudley take him along. It hadn't been a very pleasant experience for Harry, and he'd have preferred to stay home rather than spend the day with all of his tormentors, but he hadn't had a choice, and came back black and blue. I hadn't even made the eyes of the Dursleys twitch. As he'd wanted to limp up the stairs, Vernon had shouted after him that he hadn't fixed them anything to eat yet…
A hand landed on his shoulder, and his thoughts were disturbed and vanished as he looked into worried, ruby eyes. "Don't let the past haunt you so much love," Marvolo muttered.
"I have to… part of my therapy, remember?" he answered, thinking back of the many, many drawings he'd made, mainly red and black. It had helped though, if only slightly. There had been no more nightmares and no more illnesses since the one right before the Christmas holidays. "But alright, I'll concentrate on the task at hand. Where is Shay?"
"Your lapdog won't come today. Magical battle, remember?"
"Shay is as good as ten witches!" Harry protested, ignoring the nickname Marvolo had given the woman. It seemed that, now he couldn't release his irritation on Sirius any longer –the man had rented a small cottage with the money from his vault, which was accessible to him again now he was no longer on the run,- he needed a new target. And Shay, who had quickly become good friends with Harry and often hung around him during training, now had to put up with Marvolo's jealousy. Harry gave an irritated grunt as his lover failed to reply, though in his mind he too knew that Shay wouldn't like to fight amongst magical people and that that also wasn't what she'd been hired for.
It was such an odd thought to him… whenever he reminded himself that she was being paid for being here, it threw him off a bit. He'd come to know her as a friend, but he supposed that she also had to make a living, and it was a lot better than having to deal with Eyolf and knowing that the man had even received gold for his horrid lessons.
"Are you ready?" Marvolo asked, reaching out his hand. Harry nodded and took the pale fingers in his own, caressing them with his thumb. Apart from the Inner Circle, most Death Eaters weren't here yet, and would arrive soon on the grounds of Headquarters. As not only the Inner and second circle would be here, but everyone who wanted to fight for them, even the meeting room wasn't large enough. Added to that the fact that not only humans would fight today, but everyone… Harry felt uneasy about revealing all their assets and numbers, but he knew that any less than what they had would not be enough. There was no use in keeping back a part of their army if it meant that more would die. He hoped that the many creatures that would fight with them would be able to surprise their enemies. As far as Marvolo had learnt, the armies they'd fight consisted only of magicians.
Sadly, the fight had been too short notice to get the Giants moving, and as they were very magic-resistant, it was incredibly hard to transport them by apparition. Portkeys might have worked if they had been willing to take those, but Harry could recall a tragic incident from History of Magic with a Giant not having liked the feeling –completely understandable of course, Harry himself hated Portkeys as well-, after which he trampled a village and slaughtered all inhabitants to make his discomfort clear.
Despite not having Giant armies though, Marvolo had been able to retrieve four Giants and transported them near to the battle site. However, it had taken an enormous amount of magic, and a linked apparition with more than six witches and wizards linking their magic to Marvolo to provide him with enough magic to do apparate the Giants over. That had been two days ago, and thankfully the man had recovered well enough. Harry had actually wanted him to do it before, but Marvolo had explained that that would mean that they'd have to supply the Giants with more food, food they didn't have readily available, and he didn't want them to go hunting or slaughtering each other either.
"You remember the formations and strategies behind them?" his fiancé asked him once more, and Harry nodded mutely before rattling off: "four groups, two in the middle, two on every side, one slightly behind. One giant with the front middle and right one, two giants in the back, the left group consisting of fast fighters such as werewolves, centaurs and other creatures. Dwarves at front because they didn't want to be underestimated, vampires up front right so they won't clash with the werewolves and turn on each other, magicians in middle front and back…" Harry trailed off, a bit uncertain, knowing he was forgetting a group on the right.
"Dementors love. Very far right, with Vampires separating them from our own people so they won't be affected. Thankfully Vampires are immune to them…"
"Will the Vampires not turn upon us if they smell blood though?" Harry asked tentatively, not liking the idea of fighting side to side with the pale creatures he'd seen visit Marvolo a few times before.
"If you walk in a field full of cows, do you immediately attack it with a knife to get the meat?" Marvolo asked, amused. "I don't understand why so many people fear Vampires. In a sense, they are far more humane than we are, not even needing to kill to sustain themselves, whereas we humans even breed our prey for the purpose of killing and eating it. Can you imagine us not needing to kill an animal to feed from it? Getting what we want of it without it hurting or even noticing much other than feeling a tad faint after, before they recover completely as if they were never attacked…"
"When you put it that way…" Harry said, still a bit uneasy, quickly switching to another subject. He knew Marvolo liked the Vampires and had friends among them, but that didn't make him like them any more. "Any other creatures?"
"Sadly there will be no water near so the mermaids are useless in this setting… Many dark families don't want to risk their house-elves dying, so unless I set my Mantichores loose, no. Before, I had some support amongst the Arachnids in the Forbidden Forest, but as Runespoors, Ashwinders and other serpents will fight with me –also left side, actually, if you forgot- they don't support me anymore. The Basilisk my diary-Horcrux released made them turn on me. If Dumbledore uses Hagrid to convince them to fight against us though, they will flee quickly when seeing the number of serpents I have summoned."
"Why don't you set the Mantichores loose? Keep them as backup…?"
Marvolo laughed at that. "They're not exactly domesticated love. Unlike Vampires, they would kill anyone in their path just to kill."
"It's really strange to have this happening so suddenly…"Harry muttered. "I always imagined that the 'Final Battle' would be on the Hogwarts grounds, between your forces and Dumbledore's… I had never thought of factors like the other countries… it seems silly now that I had not even considered that."
"No matter whether we'll win or lose today, this will certainly not be the last battle."
"What will happen if we lose?"
"You want to talk about this now?" Marvolo asked, incredulous.
"You didn't seem to have any time for talking in the past weeks," Harry said, half-accusing. It was true though. Marvolo had not been around much and Harry had often found himself sleeping alone again. He absolutely hated it, even more because he was helpless to do anything about it, as he knew he couldn't be selfish and pull Marvolo away from his work.
"I don't have time for it now either," the man answered, as pops of apparition suddenly filled the air, indicating the arrival of the rest of the Death Eaters. "But to satisfy your curiousity slightly: it will depend on how much of the army will remain, and on if I will survive. If I don't, I want you to halt everything and resurrect me before some fool decides he can take over my position."
"There's a slight problem…" Harry said, fear gripping his heart.
"What is it?"
"The only one who knew how to resurrect you was Wormtail… and he's gone."
"In Azkaban, not gone, and don't forget the Dementors are on my side. It'll be easy for you to talk to him, especially if Sirius wins the elections."
"I hope Dumbledore and his Order won't be there…" Harry muttered. "Because if so, not only will we lose votes for Sirius if our people die, but his as well."
"We have to go, now."
"Kiss me first?" Harry asked, feeling like a hopeless fool. Marvolo only smiled though, and bent over to plant his lips firmly on Harry's, tongue invading his mouth for a heavenly moment before drawing back.
Harry released Marvolo's hand as the man turned towards the door, and walked behind him, feeling apprehensive. So much at stake, so little time to prepare for it, such a large army to fight against…
But as he walked through the doors, he saw the mass of people on the field and was astonished, frozen for a moment. The whole grounds were covered in black, with here and there colourful dots where groups of other beings stood. Dwarfs huddled together, shouting loudly and clanking their weapons together, centaurs stamped on the ground, impressive bows and other weapons with them, magicians were polishing their wands and adjusting their armour, which consisted mostly, Harry saw, of the Twin's robes that reflected minor curses. A chosen few were wearing the bands around their heads, and quite a lot more had bags with them with other inventions, pockets filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness powder and poisonous draughts.
All in all, it was an amazing sight, and Harry followed Marvolo with his eyes, men and women falling to their knees and trying to touch his robes in worship as he passed them, as if they were starving beggars touching a man of wealth. Ad in a sense, that was true, for none of them could hold a candle to his power, the magic that rolled off him in waves now he no longer held back, authority clearly visible as he confidently strode to a crowned dwarf and a Vampire Harry recognised as one of the clan leaders. The people parted for him as if they were a sea, and in that moment, Harry knew that everything would be alright as long as Marvolo was here.
He hoped that their enemy would underestimate their force as he himself had underestimated it before he had walked outside.
Read and Review! I hope there is no dutch in here anywhere... I didn't have google translate -or internet in general- so I put some in between brackets to translate later... tried to read this over quickly and I think I got everything out but I'm not sure.
Thank you for the reviews!
