Hellhounds Are Not Emo

03

ISDH

Hellhound Harry bound out of the fog and smoke surrounding a campsite, three females were cluting one another, three males were stunned and bound. Over the females stood six males in black robes and bone masks. Two were massive brutes, their wands were more like clubs, three were tall, and average. One was twisted, and leaning on a massive Axe.

An Axe Harry saw not too long ago

Already seeing red, Harry pounced to the spot just in front of the axe wielder, landing low, chin brushing the gravel underfoot, before he swooped up, catching the man's throat in his jaws. An impact to his off flank caused his jaw to reflexively snap shut, popping the guy's head off, allowing the body to drop. Harry was sprayed in the face with the guy's blood, as he turned to look at the three normal wizards.

He growled…

They shit themselves, and tried to apparate…

...splitched themselves in half…. Hot dog style.

The massive 'dog' turned to look at the thugs of Wizard-kind. They kinda smelled like the thugs that followed Malfoy. 'Crabbe? Goyle?' the human mind stopped to think, 'How do I know how they smell?'

One, you clash with them enough to know their scents, even if your nose was not active at the time. Two, you and Bullhead were them for a bit, upset US magic for a bit. And last but most importantly… you are just that awesome!

Hellhound Harry shook his head, growling at his 'pup magic' for the joke. The thug on the left, (Goyle) raised his baton, as he stepped toward Harry/ Slobberjowel. Harry pounced, caught the hand, by the wrist, the fist in his mouth. A bite and twist, and the hand was gone. But a spell flashed…

Hellhound Harry staggered back. He lost his excess mass. His bone structure became humanoid, with a hellhound's head. He worked his mouth and tongue. "That Hurt, you Cunt! Now why don't you boot lickers run back to your Master… No doubt he needs someone to wipe the Minister's arse!" the thugs fell back a step. Goyle stepped forward reaching for his hand and wand…

"Leave it." Harry snarled. "Either it's mine, or the 'red robes' will get it." the two turned and bolted into the fog. The 'Baton' snapped to his palm, and he tucked it into his wand bracer.

The oldest female dug a wand out of the robes of one splitched wizards, before reviving the others. The youngest trotted over to look up at Harry. Harry dropped down so she could see him better.

"Beau chien, puis-je vous caresser?" She asked, as she reached out and dug her dainty nails in behind his left ear. "Puis-je te garder?" He could smell 'Primal Fyre' and 'Wyld Byrd' on her, covered by the scent of 'pup'. No… not 'pup'... 'Hatchling!'

The middle female hissed like an angry bird, and moved to drive the 'Beast' from the 'Hatchling'. This one smelled similar… missing the scent of 'chick', but not yet a full byrd! The Elder turned and watched the scene as the males about them slowly awoke, shedding their bindings, wand at the ready.

The scratching caused a roll in his gut, behind his navel, and as it rolled over him, he massed up into his Hellhound form. Harry licked the little 'chick' and turned and bounded into the night, baying as he sought out other Death Eaters.

"Qu'est-ce que dans les neuf enfers était-ce?" the teen 'witch' demanded off her mother.

Mother responded, "Aucune idée. et s'il te plait ne jure pas devant ta sœur."

HANE

Hermione, the twins, Ginny, and Ron made it to the edge of the woods. There they grouped together, wands out. And that was when Ron found out his wand was missing…

MORSMORDRE

A massive green skull with a spasming snake for a tongue bloomed in the cloudy night Sky...

Two breaths later, Hermione yelled, "Down!" all five hit the ground as the air was lit up in red, as twelve bolts of scarlet spellfire flashed through the space where they had been standing. Six wizards in red robes slowly toppled over, crashing to the ground.

The other six grabbed the kids, and drug them to their feet roughly.

A Wizard in black robes, a bowler hat, and a 'hitler' mustache suddenly was in their faces practically shoving his wand up their noses. "Who did it?" He snarled, "I know one of you did it!"

Arthur burst into the clearing, "Damn it Barty, those are my kids your pointing wands at." He stepped between the black robed wizard. "And a Muggleborn!"

"They still attacked six of our men!" a Balding wizard holding Granger by her jumper collar.

"You stunned them, you cross eyed cunt!" She grunted back at him.

He went to open his mouth, when a Black man in tribal robes loomed out of the fog, "Shut it, Dawlish. Check their wands." Then he snapped his wand up and spun to face the north as a Black 'Hound' with red cracked hide stode from the mists. To the East, three more ambled forward, only these three were smaller and were winged, fire blooming from their nares. From the South, three 'Horses' stepped forward, tucking their own wings back.

Every adult in the circle froze. The big black beast strode right up to the brown haired witch, winked at her, and licked from chin to brow.

"Sit." she spoke softly, but with command, knowing who and what this Hell Beast was. She had heard Harry yelling as he exited the tent, but as she turned to look, He was gone. She reached out and scratched behind his left ear… his mastiff head pressed into her chest.

Grandfather, Uncles. Check the bushes behind where the kids were. Too many sweaty bodies for me to smell…

The three smaller hounds trotted around the group, into the bush, only to return carrying a stunned elf by the back of her tea-cozy dress, her wimple akimble. Barty paled. The blackman flicked his wand, and a length of willow jumped out of the night, into his hand.

[Prior Incantato]

A small ghost of a green skull floated from the tip.

Barty was looking a bit wild around the eyes. "This means Clothes!" He turned and swept away, the floating body of his elf following at knee high.

Director frowned having seen and heard the last of that. "That will mean a fine for Barty, and an elf on the market if anyone wants her after this." He handed a boot to Arther. "Get your kids home, we got paperwork to do." once the boot was out of his hands, "the word is Burrow." Arthur gave it to Ginny.

"Okay everyone!" Ginny held the Boot out, so that everyone could touch it, and all non adult humans did, "Three, two, One, Burrow!... You Bastards suck!" Hermione and the twins retracted their hand at 'one', and as the portkey kicked in, only Ginny and Ron were riding it home.

Arthur frowned at his boys. "Lads…"

"They are riding with me, sir." Harry spoke from where the big black hound had been sitting, as the other six hell beasts were gone. "We should be back at the Burrow by Lunch, tomorrow, and by Dinner at the latest." He looped his left arm through Hermione's right, as the twins glomped onto him from behind.

Then they were gone…

"How did he do that?" King hissed as he passed the wand back to Arthur.

"No Idea." Arthur looked over the smoking wreckage of the campgrounds and stadium. "But we have a hell of a clean up job, especially if we want to do this again in the next ten to twenty years." He tucked his son's wand into a pocket, gripped his own, and moved out to put out the fires...literally.

HANE

Three Wizards and a witch landed on a paddock, overlooking a small barn, forest, and pasture, with a stream. The visual range of the place seemed to be about two acres by two acres.

"Ah, Harry," Hermione frowned as she looked about, "where are we?"

"Why my dear witch, by certain… definitions… you have just obeyed one of Pansy's orders from first year." Harry inhaled, counted to three, exhaled, as the other three just glared at him. "Welcome to Hell."

The Twins chuckled quietly as the witch inhaled, counted to ten, and exhaled. "Harry. Are you telling me we are dead?"

"No." With a straight face. "I kinda inherited the rights to certain items, that when brought together, grant the wielder power over Death. Now, She has Issues with those who mess with the Grand Skeem and the Greater Good. Two Dark Lords have done so. Both wield a focus of the Deathly Hallows, as I wield the third. When the Time comes, I will take up their corrupted foci, cleans them, and remove the Dark Lords once and for all." Harry Turned and looked at three Mastiff Hounds sitting in the doorway.

[Well spoken, Pup. but beware the pitfalls of Pride.] the lightest dog nodded his head, before laying down.

Harry smiled. "My Great Uncle Antioch. The First Wielder of the Death Stick, the Elder Wand!"

[Have Heart, Pup. Lean on Friends, Family as they lean on you.] the center dog yawned, and flopped atop the first dog.

Harry's grin softened. "My Great Uncle Cadmus. First deviner of the Soul Stone."

[Have Mercy, Pup. Not just to your foe, but to yourself and your allies as well. Come. There is still time for sleep. And pups as young as you, or as old as us need our sleep.]

Harry chuckled, as he strode forward to the darkest of the three. "My Grandfather, Iggy." the dog groaned as the other thumped their tails. "First Wearer of the family Cloak of Invisibility.

The twins were agog. "The three brother were real?" Fred whispered

"And Potter is descended from them…" George gasped

"Well of course he is." Fred turned to look at George, crossing his arms. "The three greatest wizards to out-smart Death in one move, would have to be linked to our Harry. Just look at his Luck."

"Okay, I will give you that." George mirrored, Fred. "Next we get him drunk, we tatoo 'Fate's Bitch' across his shoulders."

"Hell NO!" Harry yelled from beside the three hounds. "I already serve as one Aspect's Champion, I do not need another putting her damn fine toe in my bathwater!"

Hermione could no longer suspend her disbelief and burst out laughing. All the males turned to look at her. She fell to the floor, gasping for air as she continued to laugh.

"The scary thing is, Granger knows that I am not joking." A flick of his wrist lifted the laughing witch into the air to set her in the middle of the round fluffy doggy bed. A second flick caused the circle to grow, but not take up more room. Then Harry crawled into the pile in his human form, pausing to look at the twins. "It gets cold without my focus keeping the place warm. Besides, this way you can boast you slept with hellhounds, and are chasing harpies in the making." Harry tucked the still giggling Hermione into 'Iggy's' 'hug' before cuddling up behind her. Cadimus tucked in at his back, as Antioch, using his nose to push the twins into the pile, before he too snuggled in close.

Once everybody was tucked in, three mini drakes dropped from the rafters, and wormed their way into the pile of warm bodies.

HANE

At five after Ten the next morning, Albus dropped by the Burrow, uninvited, for morning tea, bringing a basket of fresh from the oven biscuits, scones, minicakes. Knocking on the front door got him a hopeful Ginny, who lost her smile when saw it was just him. But he was invited into the kitchen anyway. Setting the tea-hamper on the table, he accepted a cuppa from a slightly distraught Molly. One would have to know her well to spot her distress.

The source of her distress… the Family clock. Two hands(the twins) were pointed to LOST.

As if his name was called Ron wondered into the Kitchen, drifting towards the tea-hamper. Albus, using a wandless locking charm, sealed the top of the spelled wicker basket against intrusion. Smiling into his teacup, the old man watched the boy try to raid the sweets in the heat-charmed basket sitting on the table without calling his mother's attention to the fact…

Ginny wandered in on his heels, a lump of fur that matched her locks in her arms. At first the Headmaster thought one of the Twins was turned into a cat… until he remembered the Clock. He frowned at the witchling, "Ginevera, who is that in your arms?"

"Hm?" She looked up at him. "Oh, Headmaster. This is Crookshanks, Hermione's cat. As she went with Harry and the Twins last night, he is allowing me to dote on him." She sat on the bench across from Ron, as he tried again to raid the hamper.

"And They still are not Home!" Molly burst out, throwing her arms into the air, as she turned from the stove. She then saw Ron, and what he was doing. "Ron, your choice. Homework or Gomes?"

Ron grumbled as he stood and exited out to the garden. As the Door thumped shut, Ginny raised her voice in volume and pitch to carry just right, "Mother, as my Homework is Done, as are my Chores, may I have one of these treats?"

Albus chuckled into his tea-cup as he wandlessly unsealed the hamper and opened it. The Witchling plucked out two strawberry tea-cakes, and while eating one, fed the other to the cat, making sure to rub some frosting on his face.

'Little Bitch is vindictive. I am glad I chose her for the Boy.'

HANE

Bones Stood by her Best, Shacklebolt, Master Auror, and her Second in Command, Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror, overlooking the battlefield that was the Campgrounds and Stadium from the Night before.

"Okay." She breathed Deep, counted to five, and exhaled. "Tell me again. How many Injured."

"Twenty-six, Ma'am." King stiffened, looking into the distance, "Three Muggles were Juggled, dropped, healed up, confounded, and sent home for the night. Six Aurors caught in a crossfire on kids thought to have cast the Dark Mark, and twenty-one Death Eaters to the South were trampled into the turf, six died before medical aid could get to them. Another thirty were savaged to the East. All but eleven bled out before we could send them to St Mungo's. To the North we found three splitched wizards, in half. And McNair, with his Head bitten off. Also found was a Hand with the House of Goyle Ring on it."

Bones blinked. "Any ID on the Death Eaters other than McNair and Goyle?"

"If there is, they are all branch House, or fourth in line at best." Rufus Scrimgeour snarled. "Easy to brush off as rebel scions wanting more than what they were dealt. Easy to condemn easy to disinherit."

"Bag and Tag!" Bones barked, "Lab and Slab!"

"Ma'am!" the red Robes around them moved to obey.

Bones turned to face the short man in silks with three females at his heels, and two wizards flanking them. "May I help you?" He had been waiting quite patiently for her to see him.

"Pardonne moi, Directoire." The man bowed his wigged head. "Last Night, We were Attacked." Bones frowned, "Oui, I know, That is not what I am here aboot. The Six that jumped us, a man with an Axe, two meats thugs, and three high medium level skilled hired wands. They got the jump oon me and my Guards. They disarmed my wife and eldest daughter, and were talking about how to divide the spoils, when a Massive Hound loped out of the fog, bit off the aex-man's head, turned, bit the wand hand off one thug. The thug's wand discharged in it's mouth, causing the beast to change halfway back, where after threatening the thugs, they turned tail to run, and the hired wands splitched themselves so badly…" the man pulled a flask from under his coat, and pulled heavily on it. "My Baby girl walks up to this killer beast, and scratches it behind the ear, asking him if she can keep him. He licks her, and then turns and bounded away."

"Mister…" Bones began.

"Minister." The Man Bowed again, "Sous-ministre Joan Paul Perrie Delacour. What you call, Deputy Minister." it was now that she saw the small french flag pinned to their lapels. "I am not issuing a complaint, but rather an inquiry as to the owner of one, and I quote, 'Slobberjowel'."

"Slobberjowel?" Bones asked, "sounds like that old familiar of Potter's… Padfoot." She smiled as she remembered her time sitting with Potter just so she could run her fingers through his mutt's long silky hair…

"Ah...Boss." the pink haired rookie that was her 'Honor Guard' spoke up. "You speaking of Padfood, the Grim that was often seen with Potter, but never around Black?"

"Yeah. Potter always was upset that Padfoot and Black could not get along."

"Ma'am. Sharing a Black Family Secret." Tonks spoke quietly, "Only wizard Padfoot loved more than James Potter was little Harry Potter… and he really did not hate Sirius Black… until he lost baby Harry to Dumbledor. It is hard to hate yourself."

Bones froze "That Bloody Bastard Black sat there every week, his head on my knee, gazing at me with those big dopey eyes, letting me pull his ears, as I told him about my day, my dating life, everything!" she turned stomped away from the group and drawing her wand, fired slavo after slavo of silver bolts into an oak tree twenty paces away.

"This Potter Fellow, I take it He is important?" the Frenchman lost his accent.

"James Potter died about thirteen and half years ago." Tonks sneered, "Killed by our last Dark Lord. His infant son is credited with vanquishing said Dark Wizard. Now, last year Black escaped from Azkaban, and has evaded all presuit. Now those who know the truth, have taken no action, but the rest have hunted him down like the dog he is."

"If he was loyal to Potter… why is he being hunted?"

"Some believe the worst of Black. Others think He never had his day in Court. And a select few believe that the S.O.B. is not guilty of the crimes he is accused of. But the Asshat in charge won't take his patrons dick out his mouth long enough to tell us to 'piss off' little alone to help an innocent man." Tonks ranted, and just as she was getting her stride, she sidestepped quickly, her wand out and tracing back to… Bones, as a stinging hex passed through where her hips were.

"Tonks, that will be a three sickle fine for talking trash about the Minister. You may drop it off in petty cash on your way out tonight." Bones' face was of stone.

"Three sickles?" Delacour asked.

"There were children present." Bones tone was cold, "Besides, we were short this week. A niffler got loose on the third floor." She straightened out her robes. "Only two people would know anything, if anything is to be known. For information on Black, his only friend would be Remus Lupin, the best DADA professor Hogwarts has had for some time. And one Miss Granger if you are looking for young mister Potter. Something tells me you should wait until the weekend to write to them."

The man nodded another bow to her and swept his group away.

"What did you notice?" Bone spoke softly. "Tonks first."

"Everybody but the Child spoke English, enough to understand my rant. The men agreed. The Lady is too much a lady. She twitched to cover the child's ears, but fought to hold still. The teen, has no interest in the political ring, enjoyed my dismissing Fudge, but was fighting to hide her smirk, for fear her mother would correct her. The little one really wants that dog if it is at all possible to buy it." Tonks turned to King, "In your report, you spoke of three spitched, a lost hand, and McNair. A wizard who loves to use his axe…"

Shack paled, and on a black man it was not pretty, and he bolted towards the north.

Tonks snorted, "Anything that gets within six to eight feet of Mcair loses a limb. Your neck and head are easily considered a limb." her hair flashed through the rainbow. "To move fast enough that McNair missed or even scarier, did not even have time to swing... He was better than muggles with that thing,"

"And the one thing Muggles do better than us, Kill." Bones hissed. "Okay Tonks, something tells me you know how to investigate this Slobberjowel business without dragging the DMLE or the Ministry into it. Handle it. Rufus, Other than Goyle, were any Lords identified?"

"Everybody who dressed up for tonight's entertainment were either branch lines, or third sons. Though most were just hired wands looking to move up the ranks."

"Okay. Leave Hammer to do what she does best." Bones twisted away into the rising sun.