Disclaimer: I don't own sheeit. Anyhow, today we're putting Nyarlathotep in one of those 'hero summoned from another universe to kill Voldemort' fics, but with a twist, enjoy!
AN: So yeah, this is why I haven't updated The Bored Outer God II: Through the Gate since January fifteenth. I started writing this fic because I began to miss the wizarding world greatly after finishing up Harry Potter and the Bored Outer God.
§Parseltongue§
I, High-Pharaoh Nyarlathotep of the Antarctic Dominion, sat in my office, smoking an Imperium Jupiter No. 5 cigar and signing a seemingly never-ending amount of paperwork on my desk-mounted FTL computer when I suddenly felt an odd tugging sensation.
"Huh, I'm being summoned," I said, it hadn't happened in quite a while. If I really wanted to I could resist it, but where was the fun in that?
Shrugging, I wrote a quick memo for Urshu, notifying him of the situation, before I disappeared from the face of the universe.
Meanwhile in Another Universe…
Stepping out of a portal and into a dingy-looking basement, I looked around, idly puffing on my cigar. Arranged in a circle were a group of people who were most definitely cultists, seeing as all were wearing attire that wouldn't look out of place in a medieval monastery. This was interesting, weird but interesting.
"The bodyguard has arrived!" One of the cultists said excitedly.
"All hail the bodyguard!" The group spoke as one.
"I've been called a lot of things, rarely a bodyguard though, who exactly are you people?" I asked.
"We are the Divine Church of the One Potter, and you are Her new bodyguard," The lead one replied.
I made a 'go on' motion.
"We worship the Potter because only a deity could have survived the killing curse as She did," The leader continued, making odd hand gestures, "But our Lady is weak, trapped in the body of a pre-teen so we had no choice but to summon you, an entity of even greater power."
"To protect her," I spoke, leaning on my newly appeared staff.
"Yes."
I raised a finger, "One question though, what's the date?"
"It is June eighteenth of the seventh year," The leader responded.
"Gregorian calendar, please."
"June eighteenth nineteen-eighty-eight," The leader responded.
I stroked my osrid, "Might be fun, I haven't been a bodyguard since that time in Akkad. Meh, sure, anyway, here's my bill."
A piece of paper with a number containing more than twenty zeroes on it appeared in my hand.
"Bill?" The leader asked, his brow furrowed.
"Why yes! You surely don't expect me to do this out of the kindness of my heart! That would be preposterous, I'll have you know that I am High-Pharaoh of the single most powerful empire the omniverse will ever see! Anyway, I'll see you guys later, you better have my money or I'll take your thumbs!"
With that, I faded out of existence.
/ / / / / / / /
I reappeared as an avatar I had named Xenophon, a truly horrifying creature. Onyx black, thirteen-feet-long, serpentine, thick as a man's arm, and sporting a cobra-esque hood along with a pair of great draconic wings and a Black Mamba-like head, on which there were no eyes to speak of, only a bony plate resting atop a snout largely taken up by a maw full of small but hideous fangs.
I slithered across the Dursley's lawn, leaving a line of dead grass in my wake. How I loved this place, so many good times were had, like that time I infused itching powder into the fabric of Vernon's underwear, or when I infested the house with rats as a parting gift during my last summer spent with them. Sneaking under the garden gate, I made my way towards the flower beds, where I knew this universe's Harry Potter would be at this time of year.
And there she was, weeding the area around Petunia's cream-colored peonies. A quick scan of her mind revealed her name to be Kleo Potter, that being short for Kleodora. She was seven years old, eight next month, and much like I was during my early years as Harry Potter, basically an indentured servant. I would have to rectify that and obviously have a bit of fun in the process.
I slithered across the yard and into the adjacent marigolds, peeking my head out at the girl, who somehow hadn't noticed the large black snake that had made its way into the patch of flowers right next to her, I said, "§How do you do?§" In parseltongue, a language I knew she spoke if the little smudge of Dark Lord soul on her forehead was anything to go by.
The Girl-Who-Lived jumped nearly out of her skin, her long dark red hair bouncing, she looked around, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the onyx black serpent surrounded by a field of golden flowers. She stumbled back, hazel eyes never leaving me.
"§Peace, child, I mean no harm,§" I hissed, slithering a bit closer to the girl.
"I've finally gone mad," She said in response.
I coiled myself up in front of her, "§You have not gone insane, child. I am called Xenophon, what are you called?§"
Kleo's eyebrows rose, "§K-Kleo Potter.§" She hissed back, unknowingly speaking in parseltongue.
"§Kleo, that's a beautiful name,§" I said, "§Short for Kleodora, I believe.§"
The girl blushed, making a move to resume her weeding, "§Well, it's been nice meeting you, Xenophon, but I really need to get back to-§"
I quickly moved in front of her, my wings extending outward, "§I have a question, Kleo, why exactly are you out here doing manual labor on such a hot summer day?§"
"§W-Well, Uncle Vernon-§" She started.
"§This Vernon is one of your caretakers, correct?§" I asked.
Kleo nodded, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"§I could help you with them if you wish,§" I hissed, causing her eyes to widen.
"§Really?§" She asked, her voice hopeful.
I gave off a small hissing chuckle, "§Yes, child, just do what I say, and you'll never have to work for your relatives ever again.§"
Several minutes later, the Girl-Who-Lived ran into Number four and over to Vernon, who sat in a large armchair, watching a program on the continuing deterioration of the Soviet Union.
"Uncle Vernon!" She spoke cheerfully.
"Keep it down, girl!" He responded, his face turning slightly red, "And go back outside, you're supposed to be weeding!"
"I made a new friend out in the garden!" She continued, "Do you want to meet them?"
It was then that I rose up aside the armchair and gave off a loud growling hiss, a long forked reddish-gray tongue darting out, my multitude of fangs leaked a black fluid that with each drop left small burnt marks in the chair's arm. As soon as he laid eyes on me the rotund man's face went from a blotchy purple-red to a ghostly pale within seconds.
"This is Xenophon, Uncle Vernon," Kleo smirked.
I hissed once again, making Vernon flinch, "§Tell him that you get the guest room or I'll bite him.§"
"They-" Kleo paused, "§Are you a boy or a girl?§"
"§I am a male,§" I replied. This was not entirely true, due to the fact that I am of no gender, it would actually be more accurate to call me an it or they. But I decided that this form was a male, seeing as Xenophon was a masculine name, one once carried by a man whom I had great respect for.
Kleo nodded, "He says that he'll bite you unless I get the guest room."
Vernon, after regaining a bit of his courage, opened his mouth to refuse. Without warning, I lunged straight at his neck before drawing back to my original position when my teeth were just millimeters from his skin.
The beefy fellow let out an uncharacteristically shrill scream, "Fine! You get the guest room!"
"§And your Aunt has to prepare it, not half-assedly mind you. If I find one thing out of place, I'll bite the pig child,§" I hissed.
"And Aunt Petunia has to prepare it well, or he'll bite Dudley," Kleo said, snickering slightly at the nickname I'd given her cousin.
Vernon nodded jerkily.
"§Lastly, tell him you will never be their servant again, or I'll bite him and the pig child,§" I spoke.
"He says that he'll bite you and Dudley if you ever force me to work for you again," The Girl-Who-Lived smiled cruelly.
I lunged for Vernon once again, his second scream drawing a hissing chuckle from me and a snicker from Kleo. Just like old times, only I wasn't Harry Potter.
/ / / / / / / /
After my appearance at Privet Drive things changed drastically, the three Dursleys grew afraid of even approaching Kleo, this was brought on by my tendency to coil myself around the girl's waist, like some scaly belt, one that would take any chance it got to scare the pants off them. Immediately after my pacification of the three idiots, I began the process of informing her about the wizarding world, my goal was to help her with not making the same mistakes the faux Harry Potter did before I took control. The only problem was that I had absolutely no clue what other than the Chosen One's gender was different about this universe, I would have to do something about that.
It was the morning of August third nineteen-eighty-eight when I finished debating on whether visiting Diagon Alley was a good idea, I decided that it was. Without a sound, I conjured a crimson hooded robe with an enchantment on the hood making it so that the wearer's face would be obscured in shadow.
"§Kleo,§" I hissed, "§We're going to Diagon Alley today.§"
The Girl-Who-Lived glanced at me, "§Why?§" She asked.
I let out a small hissing chuckle, "§Just trust me, Kleo, have I ever led you astray before?§"
"§No,§" She spoke, biting her lip, "§I just don't understand, you said I wouldn't go there until nineteen-ninety-one?§"
"§Worry not, my dear,§" I hissed, "§It's just a small change of plans. Now upstairs you will find a crimson robe, I want you to put it on and keep the hood up no matter what.§"
Several minutes later Kleo stood on the sidewalk, wearing the robe, which thankfully obscured me around her waist, "§Hold on, my dear,§" I hissed.
We faded out of existence and reappeared in front of a large marble building I knew to be Gringotts. One long line later, Kleo stood in front of one of the goblin tellers.
"Greetings," Kleo spoke in an awkward manner, "I wish to take an inheritance test."
"That will cost twenty galleons," The teller responded.
If this form had eyes they would have been rolled, in the end, I decided to use a bit of sorcery to convince the goblin that Kleo had given it the twenty coins.
"Hold out your hand," The goblin ordered. Kleo did so, and immediately the little creature pricked her finger with a silver instrument.
As soon as her blood touched the small device, a list of three vaults under Kleo's full name were projected onto the teller's desk. The goblin rubbed its chin with a clawed hand, "Kleodora Lily Potter, interesting, it seems you are the rightful owner of the Peverell, Potter, and Fleamont vaults. It also appears you are eligible to claim the Black family vault as your Godfather Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, named you as heir before his incarceration."
"T-Thanks," Kleo stuttered.
"§Ask it about the Potter, Peverell, and Black Headships,§" I hissed softly, "§Where can you claim them?§"
"Where can I claim my Headships?" Kleo asked.
"The Ministry's Department of Family Affairs. It is also our duty to inform you that quite a few attempts have been made over the years to withdraw money and items from the Potter vault," The goblin teller said, baring its teeth.
"§Ask it who made these attempts,§" I hissed quietly.
"Who?" Kleo asked.
"Thirty galleons," The goblin replied.
I huffed at once again having to convince the goblin that Kleo had given it money.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Jiminy Dumbledore has tried no less than seventeen times since nineteen-eighty-one to withdraw money or items from the vault," The goblin said, "Each time with quite obviously forged documents along with the vault's key, though due to the frequency and unauthorized nature of his requests, he has been permanently barred from the vault."
Now that was interesting, so this universe's Dumbledore was attempting to engage in thievery. What was his game? Surely he wasn't just trying to remove money for the hell of it, maybe he was short on coin? My contemplation paused momentarily at this and plans started forming.
That was the sort of information, no matter if it were a lie, many people would sell their souls to get ahold of. Just leave out the attempted thievery part, start a few rumors of frivolous spending and gambling here and there, tip off the right people, bribe others, and voila! Dumbledore's reputation would be damaged by rumors of him gambling away all his money and other such things.
"§Thank the nice goblin, Kleo,§" I hissed, "§We're leaving.§"
"Thank you Mr. Goblin," Kleo spoke.
The goblin simply raised an eyebrow at her.
/ / / / / / / /
Approximately three years, one month, and six days had passed since my arrival at Privet Drive, in that time I had slowly begun to realize how much Kleodora Potter reminded me of Lilith when she was a child. The Girl-Who-Lived was intelligent, snarky, cunning, I still could hardly believe that she managed to scam Vernon out of twenty pounds just by saying Dudley asked her to get the money for him, and above all, she had a healthy appreciation for a bit of chaos. Evidenced by her enjoyment of the many misfortunes that befell the Dursleys at my hand.
On July twenty-fourth nineteen-ninety-one, a knock came at the small home's door, this seemingly normal occurrence was followed closely by a decidedly abnormal one in how Petunia began screaming about a 'freak at her door.' It was not long after, that a stern-looking woman with graying hair was sitting in the Dursley's living room across from Kleo and I.
"Are you from Hogwarts?" Kleo asked.
The woman's eyes widened slightly, "You know about Hogwarts?"
"Sure! Xenophon told me all about it!" The Girl-Who-Lived responded, "You're here to take me to Diagon Alley, right?"
"Xenophon?" The woman asked.
From the dining room, Vernon began to puff himself up, "Now see here! She will not be going-!" He started.
The beefy man was quickly routed when I rose up and spat a bit of my venom onto his shoe, which he hurried to remove before it could finish eating through the leather and start eating through his foot. Yes, it seemed another rodent would build a nest within Vernon's car. Or perhaps several clothes moths would happen to find their way into Petunia's cedar chest.
"This is Xenophon," Kleo said casually.
The woman's eyes widened slightly more behind her gold-rimmed glasses, "Well, yes," She cleared her throat, "I am Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, and yes, I am to escort you to the Alley."
"Brilliant!" Kleo said, leaping out of Vernon's armchair, "May I have my letter?"
The Deputy Headmistress looked quite embarrassed, apparently, she had forgotten about Kleo's letter, most likely due to the shock of recent events. She reached into her robes and pulled out an envelope made of parchment, handing it to Kleo moments later.
"§What do we say?§" I reminded, causing McGonagall to pale.
"Thank you, Mrs. McGonagall," Kleo said.
Many minutes later, the three of us stood in Gringotts, as usual, the goblin teller bared its teeth, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but that key is no longer accepted here."
McGonagall's lips thinned, "What do you mean it isn't accepted?"
"It means," The goblin sneered, "That it has been invalidated due to suspicious activity. We now only accept blood verification as a way to withdraw from the Potter vault."
The Deputy Headmistress sighed, "Hold out your hand, Miss Potter."
Kleo did so and her finger was immediately pricked by a very familiar silver instrument which flashed gold as her blood made contact with it. The goblin bared its teeth in what I began to realize was a smile, "Welcome, Miss Potter."
The teller pressed a small button, like that on a type-writer, causing a loud ring to echo through the room. A second goblin strode into the room minutes later.
"Barnott will take you to your vault," The teller said.
Two turbulent rides later, we exited the bank plus one sack full of currency.
McGonagall turned to Kleo as we walked, "Why don't we get you fitted for some robes first."
"Sure," Kleo said cheerfully, "§Xen, do we even need to get anything from the book shop? You said something once about a grimoire that would have everything I needed.§"
"§Yes, Kleo, we still need to get those books, just for appearance's sake though, my dear,§" I hissed quietly, "§However, we can rid ourselves of them when no one's watching.§"
Kleo smiled, and before long we had arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Immediately the Girl-Who-Lived and I were led into the back of the shop, where we were greeted by the sight of a pale girl with long white-blonde hair who was being fitted for her robes.
I quickly scanned her mind, ah a female version of Draco. Her name was Tacita Malfoy, older sister to nine-year-old Claudius and only daughter of Lucius and Narcissa.
"Hogwarts too?" Malfoy drawled as a long robe was thrust over Kleo's head.
Kleo nodded, "Yes."
"§My dear, this is Tacita Malfoy, while you may think of her as a little snob, she would prove to be a very useful person to have in your pocket,§" I hissed softly, "§Seeing as her father, Lucius has the Minister of Magic eating out of his hands most of the time.§"
"-Think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow," Malfoy said, apparently having been jabbering whilst I was giving Kleo advice.
"Interesting," Kleo spoke, then hissed as a pin accidentally found its way into her flesh.
"Sorry about that, dearie," Malkin said.
"What house do you think you'll be in?" Malfoy questioned, glancing over at Kleo.
"Not entirely sure," Kleo replied, "A friend of mine told me it depends on what sort of person you are, and that isn't something you're always right about."
Malfoy nodded, "Fair. I know where I'm going to go, Slytherin, that's where my family's been since we first set foot on English soil alongside William the Conquerer."
"Well, good for you then," Kleo retorted, "I for one would despise being like the rest of my family," She shuddered, "I'd either be plump and walrus-like or thin and have a face like a Clydesdale."
Malfoy looked at Kleo, her eyebrows raised.
"But that's just my aunt and uncle," Kleo said, "Apparently I look just like my mum but with my dad's eyes, so I guess I've been shielded from that DNA."
Malfoy now had the tiniest of smiles growing on her face.
"We're finished with you, dearie," Malkin spoke, swiftly freeing the Girl-Who-Lived from the robe.
Kleo hopped down and made for the exit, but not before turning to Malfoy and saying, "It was nice meeting you! I'll see you at Hogwarts!"
"§So what do you think of your future housemate?§" I hissed.
Kleo blinked in surprise, "§What?§"
I hissed out a chuckle, "§Oh come now, my dear, you are very obviously a Slytherin.§"
"§No, not that, I mean how do you know she'll be in Slytherin?§" She asked.
"§If she isn't in Slytherin then it means that the hat is no longer working correctly.§"
"§Hat?§" Kleo questioned.
"§All in good time, my dear,§" I hissed.
The remainder of the trip was uninteresting, the only deviation from Harry Potter's first trip to Diagon Alley was the lack of a visit to Ollivanders. I intended to give Kleo a powerful weapon, and a human-crafted wand just wouldn't make the cut. I had made many wands in my day, but none were more powerful than the one I crafted for Thulsa, my old apprentice after he refused to let me perform the wandless focus ritual on him. It was made of a bone from a nightgaunt's pair of small secondary arms and had a sliver of flesh, graciously donated by Cthulhu, as a core. The so-called Wand of Lasting Night was second in terms of power to only one, Yog's creation, the Elder Wand.
One quick bit of sorcery convinced McGonagall that Kleo had gotten a wand from Ollivanders, and before long we were back at Privet Drive. It was then that I began to do something I'd neglected to do over the past three years, teach Kleo knife fighting.
/ / / / / / / /
The morning of September first dawned bright and early, Kleo stood in her room, plain black Hogwarts uniform on, me around her waist, Hedwig's cage in one hand and her trunk in the other. It was probably the lightest Hogwarts trunk I had ever seen, as it only had clothing, toiletries, and equipment within it. Safely holstered on her inner right forearm was the Wand of Lasting Night, an ornate fifteen and a half-inch thing yellowed with age and covered in minuscule eldritch runes, some suppressed the core's madness-causing effects, but most were what one would find somewhere on all wands crafted by me, namely, spell amplification and various affinity runes.
"§Hold on, my dear,§" I hissed.
Hedwig, Kleo, and I faded out of existence and reappeared seconds later on a bustling platform, full of young witches and wizards in the process of boarding a crimson steam engine along with smiling parents who saw off their children. In the crowd I noticed one Molly Weasley, a quick scan of her mind revealed several quite interesting things, I now knew that not only was this universe's Dumbledore failing miserably at stealing from the Potter vault, but he was also paying select members of the Weasley family with promises of money from said vault to befriend Kleo. Additionally, there were plans to dose Kleo with love potions keyed to the youngest male Weasley, a boy named Gideon, though that was of little concern, seeing as well before my mind scan I was already planning on giving her a ring that would render her immune to most mind-altering potions.
Furthermore, he had drawn up a marriage contract between Kleo and Gideon, a contract which literally could never be fulfilled due to the simple fact that the old man was not head of the Ancient House of Potter or Kleo's legal guardian. Before our trip to the Ministry in nineteen-eighty-nine, she technically didn't even have one! This was quickly corrected though, and from that day on I, under the pseudonym Paimon Swargud, was her guardian. My scan of Molly's mind left me with several questions, the most prominent being, how the hell had this universe's Dumbledore not managed to accidentally strangle himself with his own beard if he was this beef-witted?!
Quickly, Kleo made for the nearest car's entrance, managing to slip in behind a pink-haired girl.
Kleo huffed as she placed her trunk atop the seat in front of her, I meanwhile slipped out of her cuff and flew up into the luggage rack with a few beats of my powerful wings.
The train had only just begun to move when the compartment door slid open to reveal a gangly red-headed boy I knew as Ronald Weasley.
"Anyone sitting there?" Ron asked quickly, pointing at the seat across from Kleo, "Everywhere else is full."
Kleo shook her head.
"Crikey!" The red-headed boy said nearly as soon as he had sat down, "You're Kleo Potter!"
Kleo's eyebrow slowly rose, even she had seen it, that being how obviously rehearsed the whole interaction was. A mind scan only confirmed what I already knew, this universe's Ron had been instructed to find Kleo and befriend her. And what a piece of work this version of Harry Potter's friend was! He was nothing but a greedy, jealous, insecure, dalcop, who wouldn't think twice about stabbing a friend in the back if it meant he received something from it.
An awkward silence followed the 'realization' made by who I had renamed Ranald. It was only broken by the compartment door sliding open once again, "Anything off the trolley?" A smiling lady pushing a cart laden with all manner of candies asked.
Kleo shook her head while Ran pulled out an oddly shaped sandwich. With a nod, the lady left, sliding the door closed. Things progressed quickly after that, every once in a while the red-headed boy would attempt to start up a conversation and Kleo would answer with a simple 'Yes' or 'No.' Soon the train had completely left civilization behind, from the window one could only see the British countryside flying by.
It was close to twelve-thirty when the compartment door opened once again, this time revealing a round-faced boy who appeared to be on the verge of tears, good old Neville, even in other universes he was still a wimp, "Have e-either of you seen a toad?" Neville asked.
Both Kleo and Ran shook their heads, Neville sighed mumbling something about how he had 'lost him again.'
"At least he has a lively pet," Ran said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a snoozing rat that to my utter delight had one toe missing, "This is Scabbers, pathetic, isn't he? Seems all he does is sleep."
Oh, dear, dear Peter, so oblivious to the metaphorical headsman's axe that appeared above your head the minute I saw you. It was a shame that I couldn't bring it down just yet, for this universe's Voldemort had to return if Kleo was to kill him, or her, I had no clue at this point. Anyway, just a few more years left Wormtail.
"Gisila gave me a spell to turn him yellow, wanna see?" Ran asked pulling out his beat-up old wand.
Kleo shrugged.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow," He said, pointing the wand at Peter.
Snickering internally, I hastily turned the color of Pettegrew's fur a bright magenta. It was glorious, the type of annoying color that made your eyes hurt just looking at it. And to top it all off he'd be that very shade permanently, even in his human form.
Both had scarcely the time to react when the compartment door slid open a fourth time, Neville was back and he had reinforcements.
"Have either of you seen a toad, Neville's lost his," The younger version of Hermione said.
As per usual, I scanned her mind too, and this was not the Hermione I knew. This caricature nearly took the cake for the most petty, bossy, and just all-around awful human I had ever met. Ran was simply a jealous, greedy, imbecile, but whatever this thing was, it embodied and even surpassed the absolute worst aspects of my Hermione's personality. Azathoth's blood, not even my idiot brother was such a dreadful being.
"No, we still haven't seen it," Kleo stated, her tone dryer than death valley.
But the Anti-Hermione wasn't listening, it just stared at the wand, still in Ran's hand, "Are you doing magic?" It asked.
"Of course," The red-headed boy said, holding the still-sleeping animagus up proudly. I mentally rolled my eyes.
The next few minutes were uninteresting, thankfully the Anti-Hermione's prattle was easy to ignore. It was quite humorous seeing Ran try turning Peter red with a variation of the faux spell only to fail horribly. The Anti-Hermione eventually removed itself from our compartment, I was happy about it, and thus left Kleo, Hedwig, and I alone with Ran once again.
Ten minutes later the compartment door slid open a fifth time, and three children stepped in, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. The blonde-haired girl's expression became one of shock as she laid eyes on Kleo, but she quickly schooled it into impassiveness.
"Hello again," Kleo greeted, brightening up considerably.
Malfoy's eyebrow rose, "You're Kleodora Potter?"
"Yep," Kleo responded, "But I like Kleo better."
Malfoy let out a small puff of air through her nose, "My name's Malfoy, Tacita Malfoy."
Ran snorted softly at this.
The blonde-haired girl sent a glare his way, "So you think my name's funny, do you? My father told me all about your family, Weasley, red hair, freckles, and enough children to crew a frigate," She spat before turning back to Kleo, "You'll find that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to associate yourself with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
She held out her hand, which Kleo shook immediately, "Do you want to go to another compartment?" She asked.
Tacita nodded, "A few of my friends are in one right down the hall, c'mon I can introduce you."
Without a word, I dropped from the luggage rack, landing on Kleo's shoulder. This small occurrence caused both Malfoy and Ran to go white, the two devolved humans meanwhile appeared to not have enough brain matter to recognize me as a threat. Either that or they just didn't give a shit.
Ran was the first to recover, "W-What the bloody hell is that!"
Kleo gave my head a little rub with her index finger, "His name is Xenophon," As she said this, I coiled around her waist, "He's my friend."
I let out a long growling hiss in Ran's direction, the red-head somehow became even paler.
Malfoy's look of horror had since morphed into one of slight amusement, she discreetly motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to pick up Kleo's luggage. The two hulking boys easily transported Hedwig and the Girl-Who-Lived's trunk out of the compartment and down the hall. As Kleo left, I turned Ran's face bright magenta.
Several minutes later, we had left the magenta-faced boy behind, and now resided in a compartment inhabited by two girls and two boys, their names being Pontius Parkinson, Boudicca Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, and Theodore Nott.
"So what exactly is Xenophon?" Tacita asked once introductions had been completed.
I peeked my head through the cuff of Kleo's school robes, "A snake of some sort," Kleo replied.
"There's one problem," Boudicca piped up, "Snakes don't usually have wings, at least not ones that size."
"What about an amphiptere?" Pontius asked.
Boudicca shook her head, "No, those are covered in feathers."
And thus the debate over whatever the hell I was commenced, finally ending when the train came to a halt, signaling the end of our journey to Hogsmeade station. Students exited the train onto a small dimly lit platform where seconds later from the darkness walked the enormous half-jotun form of Rubeus Hagrid, who held an equally titanic lantern aloft.
"Firs' years!" The gigantic fellow boomed, "Firs' years over here! This way please! Mind yer step!"
The crowd of First-year students were led down a narrow dark path that ran through a patch of soft rush which towered over all but Hagrid. A small ways down the path, the rush opened up onto a little cove packed with small wooden boats, and there it was, perched atop a mound of jagged rocks, Hogwarts. Most of the children were in awe of the castle, I mentally sniffed, it wasn't that great, I much preferred the Castle East's more ominous appearance.
"Only four to a boat!" Hagrid spoke as he clambered into the lead boat.
Kleo and Tacita stepped into the nearest craft, followed closely by Pontius and Boudicca.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid boomed a few minutes later. There were murmurs of acknowledgment throughout the gathering, "Alright then, forward!"
Instantly the group of boats laden with first years began moving across the lake and towards the dock which had been built inside a small littoral cave. I was deep in thought, wondering what was going to be different about this universe's Hogwarts, maybe Dumbledore had a goatee, I snickered internally at my rather stupid joke. Or maybe he was a she, now that was a truly horrifying possibility.
Before I knew it, we had crossed the lake and disembarked at the dock. Hagrid led the first years up a stone staircase which brought the crowd to the main cobblestone path. The half-jotun knocked thrice on the pair of large wooden doors, they flew open seconds later revealing a stern-faced McGonagall.
"The firs' years, Professor," Hagrid spoke.
"Thank you," McGonagall said, turning on the spot and walking deeper into the entrance hall, "I shall take them from here."
It wasn't that great, the room was big but still could have done with a few things I donated to the other universe's Hogwarts. Though most of those eventually ended up being moved to unused portions of the castle. Quite ungrateful in my opinion, I donated a gorgeous silk tapestry depicting Abdul Alhazred's death and it got moved into a cupboard and subsequently forgotten, so what if it was a little gory and happened to give anyone who came in contact with it horrible unstoppable nightmares? Bunch of poltroons.
As I was ranting the crowd of first years had been given what must have been a very intimidating speech about how the school worked.
"How are we sorted?" Kleo asked, turning to face Tacita.
The blonde-haired girl shrugged, "Father said it was just something we needed to find out for ourselves, mother wasn't much help either."
It was then that the ghosts began to arrive, conversing amongst each other. And a minute after, McGonagall returned, "Form a line, the ceremony is about to start," She ordered.
The first years entered the great hall, "The ceiling's bewitched to look like the sky," The Anti-Hermione said in a haughty tone.
"§Shut up you disgusting mockery. If you were in the Dominion, you'd be sent to the Dark Energy mines of Ubreggos!§" I spat, earning myself a little head rub in an attempt to soothe me.
McGonagall placed the hat on its stool, it sang its ditty, I didn't find it very interesting seeing as I had witnessed it all before. Sweeping my gaze around the hall, I took note of everything, Flavia and Gisila Weasley, interesting, Cathleen McLaggen, also interesting, Quirrell at the staff table wearing his Voldemort cover, quite interesting. It was good to know that the philosopher's stone was at Hogwarts in this universe too. And then I got to Dumbledore, I didn't risk performing a mind scan, as an accomplished occlumens like him may be able to detect me rooting through his head, plus I really wasn't in the mood to modify anyone's memories at that moment.
If Dumbledore was a malicious idiot in this universe, what did that make Voldemort? A well-meaning genius? I snickered at that, for I am of the opinion that anyone who makes Horcruxes as a way to attain immortality is either an idiot, a cheapskate, or extremely unfamiliar with dark magick. There are many other ways to do that without mutilating your soul, I can think of five just off the top of my head, Koshchey's Death, Lichdom, Mind Transfering, the Pact of Quachil Uttaus, Soul Transferring. If Voldemort had just dug a little deeper into dark magicks he would have realized that Horcruxes were a stupid idea dreamt up by a white-livered slugabed who was too idiotic to keep a basilisk away from his soul anchor!
There was so so much wrong with Horcruxes, like how when your body is destroyed or killed, you become something only one step above a ghost! And don't get me started on how they make you slowly go mad the more of them you have! If this universe's Tom Riddle was not someone who wanted to kill Kleo, which was possible given everything else I had seen, he would have to fix his friggin soul and become immortal some other way. Otherwise, I might kill him because he was stupid enough to keep his soul sliced up like a Christmas ham.
"Malfoy, Tacita!" McGonagall called.
The pale girl marched up to the stool and sat upon it.
"Slytherin!" The hat shouted immediately.
Tacita strode over to the green and silver table, giving Kleo a small smile as she passed.
Lily Moon went to Hufflepuff, Theodore Nott went to Slytherin, Pontius Parkinson went there too, the two Patils went to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, Sally-Anne Perks went to Gryffindor, and finally it was Kleo's turn.
"Potter, Kleodora!"
Kleo made her way up to the stool amid whispers from all tables. Turning my gaze towards the staff table, I zeroed in on Adam West, or as people who weren't me called him, Severus Snape. The Great Bat of Potions looked quite pale as he laid eyes on Kleo. Probably due to how greatly she resembled her mother.
The hat dropped onto the Girl-Who-Lived's head and her sorting began. I was tempted to butt in on the conversation using telepathy so I could threaten it if need be, but I decided not to, for I had taught her well.
A minute later, the hat shouted, "Slytherin!" The sash around Kleo's waist became green and silver striped and the plain Hogwarts crest badge on her chest became that of Slytherin house.
The hall was silent for a very long second before the green and silver table broke out in applause while the inhabitants of the other tables looked quite put out. Ah, and Dumbledore appeared to be having a small heart attack, well I couldn't have him dying just yet, I was nowhere near done ridiculing him! A small spell ceased the myocardial infarction.
Kleo hopped off the stool and practically skipped to the Slytherin table, sitting down next to Tacita. The sorting continued, it was far too long in my opinion, I hadn't had roast chicken since I entered this universe, and I didn't want to wait any longer. When it was finally over the Headmaster stood up, still looking uneasy.
"Welcome, to a new year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore spoke, "Before we fill our stomachs, I would like to say a few words in the interest of the Greater Good. And here they are: Twaddle! Piddle! Fribble! Hibber-gibber! Thank you!"
I made sure to push his chair back a ways so he slumped to the floor when he tried sitting down. With the old man's great tumble, food appeared on the tables.
"Is it just me or does he seem madder than usual?" One of the upperclassmen asked rhetorically.
I peeked my head out of Kleo's cuff, "§Give me a bit of chicken.§" I hissed.
Kleo rolled her eyes, she was quite familiar with my odd tendencies at this point and held a piece of breast meat up to her cuff. Savoring the delicious poultry, I once again scanned the hall, and immediately had to smother a chuckle. Percy Weasley was desperately trying to return Ran's face to its original color, too bad it wouldn't until he had been sufficiently made fun of.
Before I knew it the feast had passed and Dumbledore once again stood up, "Now that we are all fed, I have several start-of-term notices to announce for the Greater Good. To all our first years, the large forest west of the Black Lake is off-limits to all students as it is inhabited by creatures no sensible Greater Good-fearing Witch or Wizard should ever hope to meet. Also, our caretaker Mr. Filch, wants me to remind you all that no magic is to be used in the corridors, anyone who does not follow this rule shall be subject to the Greater Good's wrath. Quidditch trials are to be held on the second Saturday of the term, anyone second year or older who is willing to play for their House's team should contact Madam Hooch or pray to the Greater Good. And lastly, for the remainder of this school year, the third-floor corridor is prohibited to anyone who does not want a particularly gruesome death!" Dumbledore announced, "Now off to bed! May the Greater Good bless you all with bountiful lemon drops!"
What an odd person.
"First years, follow me!" One of the Slytherin Prefects, a sixth-year named Lautilde Avery ordered.
Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle, a boy named Hesiod Greengrass, twins named Morwen and Medraut Dukair, a boy named Hallsteinn Blotleard, a girl named Orlagh Galbraith, Pontius, Boudicca, Tacita, a girl named Tracey Davis, Theodore, and Kleo all hastened to get up and follow the Prefect, or in Crabbe and Goyle's cases stuffed their pockets with all manner of sweets before getting up.
The Prefect led the first years into the entrance hall and down a staircase leading to the dungeons, several minutes later the line of eleven-year-olds stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall near Snape's office.
"The password is 'Thulsa,' and before you enter, I have one thing to say to you all, you will find that Slytherin house has three rules, Number One: Never Tell Any Non-Slytherin the Password, Number Two: Never Betray Your Family, by now you all should know that your house is your second family," Avery said, "And finally, Number Three: Don't Get Caught. If you follow these rules, you just might succeed here."
Thulsa? How the hell did anyone in this universe know the name of my old apprentice? I was quite sure he had never learned how to travel between universes, as that is a secret reserved only for Outer Gods and Great Old Ones, and it isn't one we give out like a party favor. That was a conundrum, but alas not very important at the time.
The Slytherin common room was a grand place, much better than Gryffindor tower in my opinion. It was very gothic in decor and overall feel, it also had a lot of green, any typical Deep One would have loved it, especially the windows that gave occupants a view into the Black Lake's depths.
"Boy's dorms are up that staircase," Avery said, pointing to an area on the far side of the common room, "Girl's dorms are down that one next to it, now off to bed, you lot have a big day tomorrow."
The Prefect turned and walked back out into the dungeon corridor.
Kleo looked at Tacita, who shrugged and started down the steps which apparently led to the girl's dorms. Several minutes later, Millicent, Kleo, Tacita, Boudicca, Morwen, Orlagh, and Tracey all stood in the first-year girl's dorm.
"§I'm gonna go explore the castle,§" I hissed to Kleo after deciding not to stick around for too much longer.
Kleo nodded, and I uncoiled myself from her waist, before slithering over to a snake carving in the wall and giving it a hissed 'Open.' Which caused a small snake-sized hole to open up.
/ / / / / / / /
I slithered through a maze of snake-sized passageways. Slytherin had created these for the familiars of any parselmouth students, they ran throughout the entire castle leading outside, into corridors, and some even into the Chamber of Secrets, where I was going.
Finally, after much swearing and retracing of steps, I plopped from a small pipe into the horribly dirty place. Awful, with a small bit of magick, the greenish slime that seemed to coat absolutely everything in the Chamber was banished back wherever the hell it came from. I quickly made my avatar bigger, my body extending to the length of eighty feet, around the same size as one of my Hunting Horrors.
"§Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four,§" I hissed.
The statue of Slytherin's mouth slowly opened and seconds later the great armored serpent spilled out of the opening. It flicked its tongue out, tasting the air, it seemed to finally notice me then.
"§Hello,§" I greeted, coiling myself up.
The basilisk blinked its large sickly-yellow eyes, "§You…Mate?§"
By Azathoth, it was loopy in this universe too, "§No! I am here to tell you that there will be a false Heir attempting to gain control of you in the next couple of years. Do not listen to them.§"
"§Mate,§" The basilisk said, slithering closer to me.
Well, it was worth a try, "§Sure whatever, now go back into the statue, it isn't the season.§" I laced my words with sorcery, compelling the creature to do what I said.
After the basilisk had disappeared back into the statue, I hastily said, "§Shut up, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.§" Which appeared to be good enough to close the statue.
I quickly shrank back to my original size and left the Chamber the same way I entered. What a worthless use of my time.
/ / / / / / / /
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Gomer Pyle Dumbledore sat in his office scheming. He grabbed another lemon drop from the candy dish on his desk, it was his fourteenth one that night. It was all going according to The Plan™. Kleodora Potter arrived at Hogwarts sufficiently cowed by her relatives, ready to be masterfully manipulated into being a champion against Tom.
Year after year she would save the school from one of many perils before tragically dying at Tom's hand, leaving him, the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Gomer Pyle Dumbledore to finish off the Dark Lord once and for all. Her being sorted into Slytherin and making friends with Tacita Malfoy was just an unseen part of The Plan™, it was truly a fickle mistress.
The only thing unforeseen by The Plan™ was that snake his Pawn™ apparently had, it would pose a serious problem. Ah, The Plan™ was already changing to include this unknown variable, the snake would have to go, for the Greater Good of course. Perhaps little Wendell could say the snake threatened him, Kleodora would believe her best friend and rid herself of it immediately, it was foolproof, a perfect addition to The Plan™ of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Gomer Pyle Dumbledore.
/ / / / / / / /
The next month went by quicker than my faith in this Dumbledore's intelligence. Kleo excelled in her classes due to a combination of my tutelage, my grimoire, her own talent, and Thulsa's wand. Most teachers were absolutely crazy about her, even Snape seemed to have developed a grudging respect for her abilities in potion-making.
This all appeared to have had somewhat of an odd effect on Dumbledore. After every one of the weekly staff meetings through the eye I had set up in his office, I could observe him muttering about a 'Plan,' and 'the Greater Good,' while also choking down a truly gargantuan amount of lemon drops.
In contrast to virtually all of her teachers, the abomination wearing Hermione's face began to show a growing hatred for Kleo, or more accurately her academic success. While Kleo was first in her year, and Tacita second, this was due to the Girl-Who-Lived's insistence on sharing my grimoire with the young Malfoy. The Anti-Hermione had been relegated to third, something it was obviously unhappy with judging by the many scowls that were sent Kleo's way during classes.
As for Ran, well, he most likely under Dumbledore's orders, accused me of some slight against him nearly every other day. It had gotten to the point where any time Kleo saw him approaching, she quickly sent one of my hexes his way. She seemed to be particularly fond of 'Formimorsus' which gave someone a very unfortunate case of angry fire ants appearing suddenly in their trousers.
Time had passed quickly, the monotony of breakfast, class, lunch, class, dinner, study, sometimes class made things pulp together in retrospect. The next thing I knew, it was the night of October thirty-first, Halloween, I had long ago come up with a title befitting a nineteen-fifties Z-movie for this date. It was the 'Attack of the Twelve-Foot Man-Eater!' Would it even be a Troll in this universe? Maybe it would be a Forest or River Troll, instead of a Mountain one.
My question was answered most spectacularly when Quirrell burst into the great hall at the same time as he had in the other universe, "Creature in-in the dungeons!" He babbled, the Professor truly was a great actor, "I-It's…Four arms! R-Red eyes!"
Wait. Four arms? Red eyes? Voldemort you stupid stupid son of a bitch. I sighed if this creature in the dungeons was what I suspected it was, I might just have to strangle Quirrell until his head popped off for letting one out of its home dimension and into a friggin school.
Without a word, I faded out of existence, reappearing seconds later in my Dark Pharaoh avatar, a few feet away from a greasy-furred eighteen-foot-tall four-armed creature. Yep, I was officially going to make Quirrell's life hell from then on.
The Gug peered around confusedly, poor thing, flexing its vertically opening jaw, and occasionally scratching its head with a large iron mace. I casually raised my hands and blasted it with a beam of purple light. Skin, tougher than a dragon's scales dissolved, flesh disappeared, and finally, I was left with a gigantic smoking skeleton, still gripping a mace in one of its four clawed hands.
With that taken care of, I faded out of existence and reappeared around Kleo's waist. Why do people always do crap like this? Is it because they look like mindless beasts? I have lost track of how many times I've had to kill a Gug because some idiot summoner thought they could control what amounted to a larger, stronger, massively smarter, and overall more dangerous version of a Troll!
Crap! This meant he was aware of the Dreamlands! Who knew what kind of beast the damn idiot would summon next! It could be a Fireworm of Parg, or a Leng Spider, or dear Azathoth, a Cloudbeast! I didn't want to have to deal with any of those things! Especially a Cloudbeast, those things are annoying as hell to put down.
/ / / / / / / /
"Your snake, it-!" That was about as far as Ran got in his latest attempt to bad-mouth me.
"Nasauctus!" Kleo hissed, barely even looking back at the idiot.
A jet of royal blue light flew from the outstretched wand, hitting Ran square in the face. Nearly immediately, his nose began to grow rapidly.
"§Good job!§" I said, peeking out of Kleo's cuff and looking back at Ran's by-now pinocchio-like appearance, "§Your progress with that spell is truly astounding.§"
Kleo sheathed her wand, "§I still prefer the fire ant hex.§"
"§But if you used it all the time you'd get bored of it,§" I hissed softly.
Suddenly a wall of blackness appeared in front of us, "Hexing students again, Potter?" Spoke a sneering voice.
Kleo looked up into the sallow scowling face of Severus Snape, she smiled, "Yes, Professor Snape! And technically it's student, 'cause I only ever hex him."
She jabbed her thumb at Ran, who was having trouble keeping his head up under his nose's growing weight.
Snape closed his eyes, probably counting to ten in some extremely complicated language, "Five points from Slytherin for doing magic in the corridors. Weasley, I suggest you get to the hospital wing before your nose reaches the floor."
Whirling around, the Great Daemon Bat of Hogwarts left, his robes billowing as usual.
Several minutes later, the Slytherin and Gryffindor first-years sat in the DADA classroom, Quirrell bustled into the room, walking up the stairs leading to the Professor's platform. As soon as the Voldemort-possessed teacher passed the top step, he tripped, planting his face firmly into the cold stone. Ah tripping wards, you never fail me.
I let out a hissing laugh, something very audible through the silence that permeated the room after Quirrell's great tumble. With a mere thought, I turned his shoes a revolting shade of vomit yellow and applied a slipping jinx to them.
When Quirrell tried getting to his feet, he found that said feet had become more slippery than an eel. For a second time, his face made contact with the stone floor, this time accompanied by the gruesome crack of a breaking nose. Idly, I conjured a pair of mucus green gloves, both of which had a sticking charm applied to them, over the Defence Professor's hands.
"S-S-Students," Quirrell said, his words muffled due to his face being smashed into the floor, "Could o-o-one of you p-please fetch P-P-Professor McGonagall?"
Kleo stood up, "I'll do it!" She said before anyone else had the chance to.
The Girl-Who-Lived traipsed down the corridor, traveled across the green smooth meadow grass of the Transfiguration Courtyard. And finally shoved open classroom 1B's oak door. The room was full of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff third-years.
"Professor McGonagall," Kleo spoke, "Professor Quirrell's tripped and he can't get up."
The Transfiguration Professor blinked slowly, sighing, "Alright, Mr. Diggory, you're in charge while I'm gone. And you three!" She pointed at Flavia Weasley, Gisila Weasley, and Lee Jordan, "If you so much as speak out of turn, I'll have your hides! And your parents will be contacted!"
The twin girls paled at McGonagall's words.
The Professor followed Kleo back across the courtyard and into the defense classroom, "There he is, Professor." Kleo said.
"Quirinus?" McGonagall asked.
"Ah! M-M-Minerva, it s-seems m-m-my hands are s-s-stuck to the g-ground!" Quirrell replied.
The entire class laughed. And I could even see the Professor's turban shaking slightly, so either Voldemort was laughing, that or he was shaking with rage at his vessel's perceived idiocy.
McGonagall quickly fixed him up, vanishing the gloves and shoes. Poor, poor, Quirrell, unbeknownst to you this was only the preamble to my retribution.
/ / / / / / / /
"Who is that?"
Flavia and Gisila Weasley stood in their secret hideout. A room once used as the Evocation Classroom before the subject was discontinued after a very nasty incident in fifteen-thirty-two involving an entity known as Iok-Sotot. They were each holding a side of the Marauder's Map, staring at a spot labeled 'Nyarlathotep' as it entered Quirrell's office.
The spot toured every inch of the stuttering Professor's office and sleeping quarters, before leaving, promptly vanishing off the map afterwards.
"They've disappeared!" Gisila spoke in alarm.
Flavia pointed to the corridor outside the DADA classroom, "No, they haven't, they're here now."
The spot marked 'Nyarlathotep' entered the classroom, once again visiting every inch of the place before vanishing from the map. Only to reappear in the great hall.
Flavia and Gisila looked at each other, "Maybe they're a ghost?" Gisila asked weakly.
"Can ghosts do that?" Flavia responded.
Gisila shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe we should ask Nearly Headless Nick?"
They looked back at the map, trying to find their mysterious person. To their horror, the spot marked 'Nyarlathotep' was no longer in the Great Hall. It now was situated behind two other spots, one marked Flavia Weasley and one marked Gisila Weasley.
The twins slowly turned, behind them was a horrible creature. It wore tattered robes of purplish-blue and a Tyrian purple stole emblazoned with a peculiar symbol, a black circle filled with slitted eyes and surrounded by similar eyes attached to it by thorny vines. Through a part in the robes, they could see a mass of tentacles and cartilage, all sporting slitted eyes, and fanged mouths that moved seemingly with a mind of their own. The creature appeared to have no legs, either that or they were covered by the robes.
It had no face, only an endless expanse of darkness punctuated by two pinpoints of glowing red surrounded by a large headdress that had two twisting metal tentacles rising from either side. In one of its coal-black clawed hands was a tall crooked staff, the top of which seemed to warp the air around it.
/ / / / / / / /
"Hello, ladies," I said, leaning on my staff.
The female versions of Fred and George paled at the rough guttural voice this avatar had. I suddenly appeared closer to them, my arms around their necks.
"You two look like a couple of Chaotic Acolytes!" I spoke, "Word is, that you ladies are the Neo Marauders. Is that true?"
Both nodded slowly, faces still pale, eyes still filled with horror.
"Fantastic!" I said, appearing in front of them, "Now, I can offer you two anything to sate your appetite for pranking, dung bombs, frog spawn soap, stink pellets, paint bombs, wartcap powder, whizzing worms, anything!"
The twins looked to have lost their feeling of horror and gained one of intrigue, "What's the catch?" They asked at the same time.
"You have to pay special attention to Quirrell until he is no longer a Professor," I smirked, "Prank him, make his life hell, make it so that he can't walk down a corridor without being splattered with paint or covered in rotten eggs."
"Why?" Gisila asked.
"Because he summoned a Gug into the castle on Halloween," I responded. At their questioning looks, I added, "Think a Mountain Troll, but bigger, stronger, tougher, and smarter."
I snapped my fingers, and the room was filled with crates upon crates of pranking devices. The twin's eyes widened as the crates all burst open, making it clear to them what they contained.
"We accept!" The two said, after snapping out of their shock.
"Great!" I spoke, two cards appeared in my hand, "You two are now card-carrying Acolytes of the Crawling Chaos, here are your membership cards."
I faded out of existence, leaving the twins to plot against my enemy.
/ / / / / / / /
Life for Quirrell became very difficult after Halloween. He found himself tripping when attempting to get out of bed, only to find an office full of roof rats and a door that stayed locked until he had killed every last one of the verminous creatures. Once he finally escaped from the corpse-ridden place, he would find himself tripping on nothing every eight feet.
Breakfast was not much better, the Professor's chair regularly gave him an infestation of pubic lice. His food would sometimes turn rotten or moldy as soon as it touched his plate. Salt shakers became filled with sugar or weevil-infested flour once he touched them.
The rest of the day, he would continue tripping every eight feet. Rotten eggs, paint bombs, and dungbombs pelted him everywhere he went. His shoes changed into increasingly horrid colors, his turban was not spared from this either. Daily he came back to his office to find that his bed had caught fire. And there was always a small ornate dagger flung into his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway. This dagger could not be blocked and if he tried to dodge it, the blade would still somehow find its way into his shoulder.
All in all Quirrell's sanity was forfeit the second he summoned a Gug.
/ / / / / / / /
Christmas day dawned bright and oh so cold. It was negative eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, in fact. This temperature undoubtedly contributed to the raging snowstorm that covered the grounds in a thick blanket of white.
Kleo made her way up to the common room early that morning, there was a huge yule tree topped with not a star, but a branch-shaped elder sign, not surprising it was the omniversal charm for warding off unsavory beings. Around the yule tree was a massive pile of gifts, several Slytherins were already gathered.
"Blessed yule!" Kleo said.
Tacita handed her a small elegantly wrapped package, "It looks like mum got you something."
Tearing it open, Kleo found a beautiful silver brooch inlaid with rubies of all sizes, "Give your mum my thanks."
Kleo went on to receive a five-pound note from Vernon, which I put a slow burning curse on and returned to the man's wallet, a thick light-blue sweater with an elder sign embroidered on it from 'Paimon Swargud,' and Jimmy Potter's invisibility cloak from a mysterious person, also known as Dumbledore.
How amatueur, a compulsion charm. I snorted, dispelling the bit of magick affecting the cloak with a thought. Azathoth's blood, this Dumbledore was an idiot, even the Shan could run circles around this guy. And they were stupid enough to get in Ghroth's way. Except for Hedwig, she's smarter than the rest of those overgrown houseflies.
I uncoiled myself from Kleo's waist and slithered across the common room to curl up next to the fire. Causing several Slytherins to let out cries of alarm.
"We still haven't figured out what Xenophon is," Tacita muttered.
"Professor Kettleburn would probably know," One of the upperclassmen piped up.
"But he ain't here," Another spoke, "He's snowed in down at Hogsmeade."
"How do you know?" The first upperclassman asked snidely.
"I-" The second was cut off.
I hissed in their general direction, they shut up quickly after that.
/ / / / / / / /
"§Well this is a fine mess you've gotten us into,§" I hissed.
Kleo tried shrugging, a difficult task as she was bound with heavy ropes, "§Quirrell said that he had Tacita down here.§"
"§And you believed him,§" I responded, "§I wish Quirrell could understand me because I want to say that this was one of the stupidest plans I have ever witnessed.§"
"How to I get it, Master!" Quirrell shrieked. I resisted the urge to shift into another form and strangle the dickweed.
"Use the girl," Tommy said, "Use the girl."
The turbaned wonder whirled around, clapping his hands causing us to be freed from the ropes. It would be his last mistake.
"No! Don't free them you idiot!" Tommy-Boy spoke.
I quickly darted out, a flap of my wings propelling me towards the Professor. Clamping my jaws down on Quirrell's forearm, I injected over eight milliliters of venom into his bloodstream. It immediately began its vile work, killing cells of all kinds, buring through flesh, giving the Professor severe internal hemorrhaging. Within seconds Quirrell had collapsed, a pool of grayish blood forming under him, the vital fluid spilling from his burned open veins.
"§Well, that was an eventful twenty minutes,§" I hissed.
/ / / / / / / /
It was finally time to return to the idiots, "Hello, Uncle Vernon!" Kleo greeted.
"Get in!" The large fellow spat harshly. It appeared that another lesson on manners was in order.
What would it be this time? Itching powder in his underwear? No I already did that. Dye his suits magenta? Nah, too overdone. Ah! Paint their house a revolting color, that's it!
The travel back to the now-bright orange house was boring, but seeing the idiot's reactions to the new paint job made it worth the boredom, however. Petunia looked as if she were about to faint and Vernon turned a worrying shade of purplish red that was quickly replaced by ghostly white after I hissed at him as Kleo passed. Per usual Vernon tripped as he stepped through the doorway, such a clumsy man.
Kleo dragged her trunk up to her bedroom, there was a great crash as Vernon once again tripped, this time as he attempted to sit in his armchair. The room was exactly the same as it was when we left on September first, certainly due to the curse I placed on the doorway. I wonder how many times Vernon had to pass a kidney stone before he stopped trying to enter Kleo's room. A pained yell erupted from downstairs, it seemed that Vernon had found the small dagger I had put facing upwards in his armchair.
Yes, it was good to be back.
Please Stay Tuned for the Next Action Chapter of A Snake Called Nyarlathotep!
Dalcop: An old term for someone who is stupid.
Beef-Witted: Another old term for someone who is stupid.
White-Livered: An old term meaning cowardly.
Poltroon: Also an old term for someone who is cowardly.
Slugabed: An old term for someone who is lazy.
AN: I hope you peeps like this, it's been sort of a passion project of mine. I always like putting Nyarlathotep in different situations.