Interlude: Witches, Workings and Wonder
Something much like unease sat firmly in Bonnie's stomach. She wrung her hands and looked at her mother and grandmother forlorn.
"Are you sure we have to do this?" Bonnie asked. If she had been counting this would have been the seventh time she had asked the same question and the same answer was said to her in turn. But she couldn't help feeling that this time would be different, that his grandmother would change her mind. "This power I have could help us with whatever's coming."
Grams shook her head. She too looked worried, but Bonnie guessed it was not for the same reason that she was. "This power you have is unnatural," Grams started and Bonnie couldn't help but feel hurt. Power was neither benign nor malevolent, it was how it was used that made the difference and Bonnie had used her power for good. She had removed the curses Harry had placed on her friends, she had stalled cursed fire and saved Jeremy and Matt from said fire. She had done good with the power she had gotten.
But you've also destroyed a town and an island, said a voice at the back of her mind. Grams is right. This power is destructive even though it had a lot of potential.
Grams had been speaking, Bonnie came to realise, but whatever the woman had said Bonnie hadn't heard.
"It going to be okay, hun," said her mother, placing her hand on Bonnie shoulder. The small act did nothing to put her mind at ease, especially at the prospect of not having power anymore. She couldn't channel the power of the ancestors anymore, they would not allow her considering they had tried to kill not long ago, which meant she would be powerless.
She took a breath and decided to voice her thoughts. "I don't want to be powerless," she said. "I don't want the ancestors controlling me and my use of magic."
"The time of the ancestors is coming to an end," said Grams. "The Other Side is falling, breaking apart. Two more weeks and I'm sure all of them will have gone into the void. What we're doing is our bid at buying power." Her confusion must have shown because Grams explained. "In the brief moment when Harry Potter and his friends were passing through to this side I had a moment of clarity, a brief moment of omniscience. It passed too quickly for me to grasp much, but one thing is clear. A war is coming. Not a war of this world but one from beyond, and it all begins with those beings Harry Potter calls Dementors."
Bonnie felt shivers rise up her spine as she thought about the thing. She hadn't seen it, but the effects still seeped through all of Mystic Falls, at odd times her worst memories would start surfacing, an unnatural cold that just stayed. But still with the negative effects, some good had come from it; it had made Elena return from her non-humanity state.
That thought soon turned to another, it had almost been a week and no one had seen the wizard. The hybrids were worried, especially since their home had been bound by Bree, Lee was angry, twice he'd almost been killed by the witches because he had tried to strong-arm them into finding a way that would release Lexi from Bree's grasp. It was all confusing, but from what she'd grasped, Bree had freaked out after Connor had been sucked into oblivion and now she was exhausting everyway she could to make sure she would get him back. In the same position, her friends on the line, Bonnie was sure she would have done the same. Matter of fact, she had defied Nature and worked Dark Magic to save her friends. She definitely would have done the same.
She let out a sigh. "If we have to do this," she said.
They started the preparations. It took almost half the day and when it was done the entire living room was filled with circles and symbols, all drawn from the blood of a doppelganger. Bonnie lay in the centre circle, looking at the ceiling with a sense of dread.
Grams started her spell. It was something new, nothing she'd ever heard before and since it hadn't been in her tomes the young witch guessed it was newly created. Spell creation. It was an avenue Bonnie hadn't attempted yet, but she found interesting. There was something more to it than just learning a spell, you were, in a sense, shaping the universe further than had been done before.
The effects of the spell started, she felt a tingling from her core and then it spread throughout her entire body, then the pain starting. It felt like the power Expression was being wrung from her body and the damned power was clinging on, not wanting to let go. A harsh scream left her throat as Grams' tempo increased; it felt as though she was being skinned alive, tendrils of pain flaring throughout. For a few minutes she knew nothing but pain. She was sure the spell had taken nothing but a few minutes but to her it had felt like hours, pain surrounding her, her throat coarse and tears flooding her eyes.
She shuddered when the spell stopped and it was a small pleasure that the darkness of unconsciousness claimed her.
A day passed and they were preparing for a series of stronger spells. Bonnie and Grams were sitting amidst another series symbols and circle, this time drawn from the blood of Stefan and Elena. The pair of witches started gathering the power, then something hit the window, a small clink.
"I'll check it out," said Abby she moved with her vampiric speed. It was a few minutes before she returned. "The wizard is back," she said with some displeasure. "He knows Bonnie's not using Expression."
"Harry Potter has the peculiar ability to sense magic," said Grams. Bonnie was a little amazed that she could both gather power and shape magic. It was all she could do not to lose focus from just listening to the pair speak. "Something I was hoping he would teach me, but with what we're going to do, who we're going to summon, Mr Potter will soon become an enemy."
Bonnie felt something of a pang at that. For the first time since the divorce Sheriff Forbes had found someone to be with. Caroline said Harry made her mother happy and even though she found the entire thing creepy—Caroline's words—she liked seeing her mother happy. Now if Bonnie, her mother and Grams were making Harry and enemy, they were drawing lines, they would be taking that happiness from Sheriff Forbes.
"I don't mind that," said Abby. "I've never like him."
"You've never liked his company," Grams corrected. "Harry Potter might have been in league with Mikael the Destroyer," she said. "But you have to think over this. Why did he not release him? He's proven that he's quite adapt with Tracking Spells."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"While I was on the Other Side I watched many things. Harry Potter was amongst those things. I cloaked myself with an Spell of Invisibility—he can sense magic, though magic on the Other Side is out of his grasp—and tethered myself to him so I could freely pass into his property; and in that time I think I've come to know his character.
"The man might be reckless at the best of times. But it is not without thought that he takes his steps. He was trained by the Destroyer, the pair together even crafted a spell that was most effective against vampires, using the weakness that Harry is slower to their advantage. Mikael the Destroyer knew Harry's techniques, the way he fought. If the two ever fought, Harry would die, and as we've seen with recent happenings, Harry is not one to let himself be killed and sent to the Other Side. He does not like being imprisoned and he sees the Other Side as such."
"You think he let Mikael do what he did because he was scared?"
"In essence. Yes. I think he was. But these are thoughts for another time. We have enough power," said Grams to Bonnie.
Abby walked into the centremost circle and stood within. The spell was another of Grams' creations. She had been doing that a lot lately, and Bonnie guessed the moment at Omniscience had left a lot of avenues with her, but then again she had said she had been watching Harry, a man who was almost expert at coming up with spells, that could have also been a factor.
Abby was much stronger than Bonnie and even though she was in pain, she showed nothing except small discomfort. In all it took fifteen minutes, then Abby smiled, looking at her hands in a new light. She said a spell and the circles of blood disappears.
"I'm a witch again," she said with a smile on her.
"No time for that," said Grams. "We have a Summoning to prepare."
"The veil is falling," said Qetsiyah with a large grin. Markos gave a nod and the woman grinned even brighter. She let out a joyous laugh. "Glorious."
"For the time being, yes," said Markos. "But with Harry's disappearance we have something to be worried about."
Qetsiyah shook her head. "We have nothing to worry about on that front," she said. "Harry Potter is just a propped up wizard. An anomaly that I've figured out. He's not a danger to me."
Markos raised a brow. "I find myself curious," he said. "I've been trying to figure him out and yet I've found nothing. No theory that I can come up with that explain why he's so different."
"That's because you're still young descendant of mine," said Qetsiyah. "You have yet to explore the furthest reaches of magic and look beyond."
"Then teach me, grandmother," said Markos.
"Oh, stop saying that. You make me feel old."
"It's better than me calling you great-mother is it not? Or great-great-grandmother. Or—"
"I get it," said Qetsiyah. There was a hiss from the kitchen, she stood and got the kettle and started setting the table of an afternoon cup of tea. "So," she said when everything was set. "How is finding the cure going?"
"My Travellers are in Mystic Falls," said Markos. "Watching for any sign of the Cure. I have another crew moving throughout, running a continual Tracking Spell in case their Cloaking Spell slips. Silas though, is a problem. His followers have been spotted in Mystic Falls. A pair that was able to walk into Harry's warded house."
"You've been watching then," said Qetsiyah. "But have you been watching everything else?"
"I'm not sure I understand," said Markos.
"Something big is coming. Too many events happening in rapid succession. Harry's tampering with life and death, two Expression users, the veil falling and those creatures from beyond."
"You know about those things?" asked Markos.
"Fear feasters," said Qetsiyah. "Devourers of souls. Harvesters for Famine." Markos shook his head, confusion drawn across his features. "A war is coming descended of mine. A war that is so above us in power that it would be our downfall."
"You make the future sound bleak," said Markos.
Qetsiyah shook her head. "I can't say I know much about the future," she said. "But the factors preceding a war are clear in most instances, and gathering power is one of the clearest sign."
Markos rubbed at his brow, a look of consternation on his face that clouded frustration. He wasn't used to this, speaking to someone a lot more powerful and knowledgeable. He was used to speaking and people following his orders. At first it had been slightly refreshing. Sharing thoughts, plots and spells, the sharing of ideas. But then the days had passed and the difference in knowledge between him and Qetsiyah became clear.
This was one such occasion.
"Tell me more about this war," said Markos. If she spoke true, then the same needed to be said for him. He would need power and a lot of it.
Sharon was a little confused. A gathering this great was something unprecedented and yet the four families had been in agreement. This needed to happen and witch of age was to attend.
Someone settled next to her. "What do you thing's up?" the girl asked without greeting. Dianne. She and Carol had been fast-friends since both could remember. They were alike in many ways, same height, similar blonde hair, the only difference between them that Dianne had blue eyes while Carol had dark brown.
"No idea. Dad let me off homework for this," she said. "And you know how my dad is."
Dianne gave a sympathetic nod. "You think it might have to do with that property just beyond the hill?" Dianne asked and there was a sense of excitement in her voice.
The property beyond the hill had been somewhat of an anomaly in the town's history. It was surrounded by the strongest of wards, its inhabitant was said to be both immortal and a witch, a paradox of Nature's will. Relations between the inhabitant of the house and their small town were not good in often times, especially since the man was a protector of wolves.
"It couldn't be," said Carol. "The wolves have disappeared for some reason and activity has been absent of late."
Dianne spared her a look. "How do you know?" she asked.
There was a pang of guilt and Carol looked forward in an effort to keep her eyes away from Dianne. The heads of the coven, David Hamburg, Martha Bridgestone and Johnathan Brook talked in hushed tones at the front of community centre. No one ventured close, many of the witches in the building looked worried.
"Carol," said Dianne and with her words she pulled the girl to look at her. "How do you know?"
"It's sort of a secret," said Carol and there was another pang of guilt.
"When did there start being secrets between us?" asked Dianne and she sounded a hurt.
Carol thought on it for a few minutes then she let out a sigh. "I'll tell you later," she said in a whisper as the procession began.
"Silence," Johnathan started; his voice was soft but it carried. Within a few minutes the entire room was silent and everyone was looking at the three that sat at the head table. "Thank you," the man said. "It's clear," he started, "from the looks of everyone here that the gravity of the situation, if we aren't all unclear. The ancestors have been becoming restless. We share in this restlessness as our connection to them dies and with it our power." The words were chilling, more so because of the frank tone they were spoken in.
"How?" one of the elders asked, voicing the thoughts of a stricken Carol. She had yet to learn much about magic, but she did know one thing: The Other Side was absolute. It predated all but the oldest covens and it was the only thing that ensure her ancestors were able to give her power.
Losing her power was perhaps was of the scariest thought. She had been seven when her parents had taught her to cast her first spells. The act had been small, turning water from room temperature to slightly below room temperature, but the power that had rushed through her in that moment, when she had been incanting, had been exhilarating. Ten years later and that feeling of using magic hadn't dulled. If it was stripped from her, she felt she would lose sight of who she was.
"Many of you have already heard word of the Other Side falling yes?" asked Johnathan and there were slight nods from the people within the building. Carol herself had heard. She'd been listening in to her parents speaking—she knew it had been wrong, but she was bloody seventeen, she deserved to have a say in matters regarding to the coven—and she'd heard the details. The veil had been falling apart for close to a month and ghosts on the Other Side were becoming more powerful, having more of an effect on the world of the living. Carol hadn't been really sold on the idea until the first attack had happened; a dead wolf had gathered to much sway on the land of the living that he'd started killing the family that had gone against his pack.
Witches of the town had been quick to act, putting wards that would repel spirits from their town. Things had gone silent until then. But now, this falling of the Other Side was forcing them to take action.
"This is a result of that," Johnathan went on. "The details have yet to become clear, but it seems that everything on the Other Side is being sucked into oblivion."
Another silence proceeded the frank statement.
A man who had was stood where Johnathan stood shook his head, frustration marring his features. "I think I might be a little old to get all this, but, explain this to me again. Oblivion."
Johnathan gave a nod. "As I said, father, the information has yet to clear itself." Johnathan looked at the room at large. "Even so, collectively there is only one option we have if we want to continue to have access to our power; an idea that not many would like, but I, and my fellow heads, think is warranted by these events." He paused and his expression wavered into something Carol had never seen before, but it quickly became resolute. "We have to follow the French example and create our own dimension of the dead." He took another breath. "We have to practise Ancestral Magic."
There was collective uproar from the adults, especially the elders. Coral didn't understand and a glance at her side showed her that Dianne didn't understand either. Johnathan tried to quiet the crowd but to no avail, comment were being thrown around and Carol thought some were nothing if not racist.
"Quiet," said David and his words were filled with such power that Carol felt her tongue curl back. The silence quickly followed. "It is the only avenue we have left," the man said his tone brooking no argument. "You follow or you leave. The rest of us will not lose power because of the few who do not see the greater picture."
A woman stood, beside her a girl named Alice. Carol knew her from school, they being around the same age, but they had never hung out.
"I would never let my daughter go through with what you're thinking," she said. Her eyes cold and her tone filled with anger. "I'd rather lose access to magic than that come true. Come, Alice," she said and she started towards the door.
Alice looked confused but she followed her mother. No one stopped her, but Carol could see the disgust in David's eyes.
Never before had she ever been this confused. What was Ancestral Magic and what did it have to do with Alice? She looked towards where her parents were sitting, not too far away, they both had their eyes on her and they both looked conflicted.
A chill climbed up Carol's spine.
"I have a bad feeling about all this," she mutter to Dianne. The other girl didn't need to speak. It was clear to Carol that the same could be said for her bestfriend as well.
"And here we go," said a disembodied voice.
The only inhabitant of the room showed no sign that he'd heard it. He sat in a cross-legged position, arms wrapped around him in a straightjacket and his eyes closed. The dark-skinned man didn't move except for his slow breathing. This was a testament to how far he'd gotten, not a few weeks ago he'd been, in every sense, in sane. But now, things had changed.
His eyes opened and a grin spread across him.
"And the wolf returns," he said. The grin spread wider as realisation hit. "I've found a cure to insanity," he said and he a bout of pride at himself. "Relashio," he said an immense amount of focus in the word and the intent behind it fully set in his mind. He felt the power of Nature rushed through him. He no longer had the parts that were Harry in him, but this only meant he had more access to the power of the land, especially good because he had no of the particulars of wandlore.
The straightjacket began to slightly unwind until it came lose; his arms began to unwind and he felt the relief. He stood and stretched for a long while, moving his body. His body. He was he at this moment, no longer an abominable part of Harry.
Remus—no. The gambit had paid off. He was free, but Harry could still find him if there was another Remus in there world. Take the name. Bruce. He was Bruce. But even so he was not a meek as the person who had previously called his body home. He was a wolf. He had once been the Master of Death.
He held out a hand towards the door and focused. "Alohomora!" The door immediately flew open.
He started at a slow walk towards the exit. He didn't feel the charms, but if it had been him watching over a potential threat. He would have put an alerting spell around the area.
"Pestis Desino," said Bruce with a flick of his hand. Strangely, he couldn't feel if the magic was there or not, but those were thoughts for another day.
He thought of the moment he had succeeded and focused on it. "Expecto Patronum," he said and a burst of blue light shot from his hand and took the form of a massive wolf. "I kind of like the name Remus," said Bruce. "How do you like it?"
The wolf said nothing except give him a blank stare.
"Right," said Bruce. "Never mind that, just know you're Remus now." Bruce looked around. "Lead me out of here," he said and the wolf started walking.
Bruce walked down the winding halls, the first white-dressed person he saw he sent a curse at her, she fell. The spell had shown no colour, just a disturbance in the air. Interesting.
He managed to get outside before something stopped him. A man, tall and dark skinned, wearing a suit and caring a silver stake. The look he shot at Bruce was emotionless.
Bruce let out a sigh. "You're one of Harry's guard aren't you?" Bruce asked. The man didn't answer, but the Bruce noted a moment's disgust.
"I have come to put the fear of God in you, Harry Potter," the man said in a monotone.
"Guy," said Bruce. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm Bruce."
The man's grip tightened around his dagger. "Your tries at deceit will not fool me," the man said. "I will end you, Master of Death. I will make it so that in every universe you traverse you will know that you do not go against God."
Bruce felt a chill settle at the pit of his stomach. No one knew about the universe travel. No knew that he was the Master of Death except the most powerful of people. Gods in most respects.
Spells rifled through him mind in rapid succession. No holds barred he told his mind.
"Avada Kedvra." The spell rushed through the air. The man quickly threw his silver stake and it intercepted the spell. More so, the spell hadn't destroyed the dagger. It stopped mid-air and returned to the man. "This is going to be hard," Bruce muttered. But as sure as anything, he wasn't going to let himself die.
"I am fuelled by the belief in my father," the man said. "You cannot defeat me. You will die. I will find you. And you will die again. And again. And again. Ad infinitum until you choose death."
The man started at a run. It was slower than a vampire but still superhuman. "Avada Kedavra." The man jumped to the side, landed on a roll and quickly got this his feet and threw the stake. "Protego." The shield flickered into life but the stake passed through it. Bruce quickly jumped to the side, but he wasn't quick enough; the stake grazed his side and it was accompanied was a fierce burning pain.
Bruce held back a scream, maintaining his focus enough to see the man summon his stake and charging at him again. 'Pyrus Impactus.' The spell didn't work and the man was closer. "Pyrus Impactus!" The spell hit the man and he flew back, engulfed in flames. He landed on the ground and didn't move. Bruce quickly got to his feet and didn't tempt fate by letting our a relieved breath.
"Avada Kedavra," the man spun out of the spell's way and got to his feet. The flames disappeared and the man's burnt skin quickly healed until he was without blemish. "So unfair," Bruce couldn't help but mutter.
The man held out his hand and pointed it at Bruce.
"This is not going to be good," he muttered as the hand started glowing a golden light, the air shrieking from the power. Bruce took a long breath. "Please work," he muttered as he pictured his destination. There was an explosion just as he was turning on the spot. He was squeezed into the tube and immediately spat out in Mystic Falls, in front of Harry's property. He didn't care. He needed help with this even if it meant Harry finding out about him.
"Come back!" he heard screamed and he was pulled back into the tube and spat out a short distance from the man. Bruce was shocked. The man could work spell at such a long range?
"What the hell are you?" he asked.
"I am a Warrior of God," the man said. "I will be known as a traitor, but I do not care. I know what my Father wants and I will help him gain it."
The man held out a hand and it began glowing again. Bruce called up his most powerful shield but when the explosion had happened the light only passed through the shield. It hit and Bruce was no more.
The man looked around and felt a niggling of irritation as he felt another Harry Potter. He focused on the power that his father's will granted him and let it surround him. He bent sway itself and took a step. Then he stood on an island.
"Well, the Other Side has fallen," said Sirius in somewhat of bored voice. "Wonder if Harry was still dead?"
"Guys sorta like 'roach," said Armon. "I wouldn't be surprised if all this was his fault."
"It most probably was," said Sirius. "Which is why we need to get out of here while the going's good."
"Where are we going anyway?" the blonde asked.
"You prepared for some exposition?" Sirius asked and Armon shrugged.
"I've been wondering about you for a long time. Thought it would be in my best interest to just wait it out. You'd tell me sooner or later why I've been drawing forty-two circles on the floor for the past month."
"Let's begin with what I am," said Sirius. "I am the Master of Death."
"What does that even mean?" Arman asked.
Sirius shrugged. "No idea in the meta-physical sense, but it does give Harry some cool abilities. He can see the dead. He can call the dead. He can't die, in a meta sense. His got a nifty Cloak of Invisibility, a Stone of Resurrection—though he won't be using that for forever—and the Elder Wand. All attuned to him, meaning they can't be used against him. He also can't be stopped in time, which I don't really understand." Sirius shrugged. "Guess it goes with the whole concept that you can't run from Death and whatnot.
"But this is all off topic. The most important part is that Harry can't die in a meta sense. Every time he's killed—not natural death type situation—he's pulled into a different universe."
"Wait, there are other universes?"
Sirius sighed. "You're derailing my train," the figment said. He let out another sigh. "Yes, there are other universes. But that's not the freaky part. You know the show Heroes right? Wait, why am I even asking that. The only reason I know about it is because you knew about it. The real question I would be, what would you think if I told you Peter Petrelli is a friend of mine?"
Armon gaped at no one in particular. Sirius was a presence in his mind and had no physical embodiment. Just a voice in his mind. He would have thought he was crazy were it not for the fact that the man could take control of him if pushed too far. He was scared that he would be pushed back again, the only way not to be shot back was to be listen to everything Sirius said.
Made the man happy.
"Tell me this is all a joke," said Armon.
Sirius shook his head—Armon didn't try to think about how less he gave himself a splitting headache. "All true, my friend," he said. "This got me thinking. What if stories are their own sort of portals? That writers are seers? That the answer to the ultimate question to life, the universe and everything lay all in a book?"
"Hitchhiker's Guide reference," Armon muttered. "Not that that's important. You're theory is farfetched."
"As farfetched as a universal traveller who's met a man he thinks is Father Time?" Sirius asked. "I think not. But I'm not finished. From what I got from your mind is that the entire plot of the book is finding the Ultimate question. Which, coincidentally will be found on Earth. This might be an earth from a different universe, but would it be stretching a loophole if I said it is still an earth nonetheless?" Sirius didn't wait for an answer. "If that's true, this is earth, I'm from earth, the I might be the one to ask the ultimate question."
"Which is?" asked Armon.
"How do I get back to my kids."
There was a crash from outside and the flash of golden light.
"Fuck," Sirius muttered, then, "I'm taking over."
Armon was pushed back and Sirius emerged. The man drew forth power and began speaking in Latin. Another flash of light and the side of the house fell, revealing a man with a silver dagger.
Sirius' tempo increased but the man stopped him with a throw of his silver stake.
"Depulso!" The stake was violently hurled back to the man who caught it with ease. Sirius started his spell anew but when the man pointed his hand towards Sirius the man was forced to stop. "Speculum," he said and a giant mirror appeared just as an explosion rocked the room. The light hit and cracked the shield, not being reflected.
Siruis turned on the spot and hit a solid block of air.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sirius muttered as anger coursed through him. He was close, he knew. This was the answer and the Fates had screwed him over yet again. He just wanted to get home! What was so wrong with that?
"I'm not going to die!" he shouted at the man. "Pyrus Pestis."
The fire hurtled towards the man and he spoke for the first time. "By the Grace of God I say unto you abomination. Begone!" There was a blinding flash of yellow light and when it was gone the fire was gone.
"Die, Harry Potter ," the man said. Sirius couldn't move. The Fire had taken a lot out of him. The man slowly walked towards him. He didn't even show an ounce of emotion as he came closer. He plunged the stake into Sirius and the pain was immense.
Again the man focused and again he felt another Harry Potter, only this one seemed more concentrated. He gave it some thought and omniscience caught up. He knew why and he felt a lot more disgusted. Marring his father's work with splitting his soul. The intent might have been good but intent didn't matter, the greater good was all that matter, and were it not what he was, he would have killed Harry Potter completely.
He focused the power around him but this time he was stopped. He might have thought it was Death himself but the man was still bound. His father's work. No. This was another. A lesser god. Nature.
He had to move quickly.
He focused, using less power to take into the air. It was slow, but he would get there in a matter of days.
Harry Potter would learn to fear him.
AN: My thoughts as I was writing this: Wouldn't it be cool if Harry was being chased by someone through his travels? This man, and I think all will know what he is, it's not exactly subtle-I'm not good with subtlety-is what will be chasing him. Now, why he's chasing Harry and saying everything he's saying is because of a greater plot, one that will be slightly covered in another story I'm working on. I've done two chapters already but those two chapters are not clear enough in what I'm going for to be posted.
If you like this and the whole travelling across universes thing, look out for it; especially since I'll be, for the first time, tackling a much more popular fanfic genre. (Entire things scares me, there aren't that many flames in obscurity, and not much room for OOC character moments being hated)
The prequel to this story is something I'm still thinking about. I've got the universe I'm going to tackle, but setting things up-the world hasn't been explored much in my opinion-is a lot hard. But you can rest assured that it will have my favourite thing to write. War (He'll be a major player somewhere. Hint. Not-so-subtle hint.)
Anyway, this has been too long. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. Thanks for the reviews as well, and on another note: Beta. I don't have one. I've been told I need one. I don't know how the thing works so anyone care to explain-and if interested you can tell me, reference me to your work, and I'll probably accept your assistance if I find I love your writing style (Beyond correct grammar and punctuation, it doesn't take much to impress me).
Again, thank you for reading.
PS: Don't expect much from the Dementor sub-plot. It's a long-term thing I'm working on.