Oni: Hello everyone! I'm back!
Harry: It's been exactly 1 year since you last updated.
Oni: I know! I'm sorry!
Eridan: At least it's not 4 years like last time.
Oni: Look, things got busy and I have a bunch more new projects, but hey, this chapter turned out pretty long so at least there's that? And I mean, I think there's only maybe five-ish more chapters planned? It keeps getting longer, but still.
Eridan: I forgivve you, but the readers might not.
Oni: *looks at the torches and pitchforks and winces* Yeah. That's gonna be the norm until my other fics are updated as well.
Sirius: But we're here now, so it's time to get this show on the road! Take it away, Padfoot!
Remus: Why was I pulled into this? Oh yes, Oni does not own Harry Potter or Homestuck. If you see something that looks like it's pulled from the books, it's because it probably is.
Feferi: O)( buoy! My turn!
Alternian is written in Bold sentences!
Harry: I think that's everything. I hope you enjoy the new chapter, readers!
Oni: Aaaaaaand ONWARDS!
Alternia Interlude - Gamzee Makara
His custodian had left him for the seas once more before the ocean's merciless storms had set in. Gamzee had watched as Goatdad had barely given him the most flippant of looks before swimming further out to sea and diving below its depths again. It was becoming more and more frequent, the sojourns of his capricious lusus. The days (weeks, sometimes perigees) without him always filled him with a deep sense of loneliness. Like when you finished your last bottle of Faygo and had forgotten to get more. Or when Kar-bro and Tav-bro went offline when he was still wide awake. Gamzee feared that one day his goat dad would leave him for good, off into the waves where he couldn't follow. Leaving him alone again.
Like always.
Gamzee had never told them, but he'd feel sparks of envy for Fef-sis and Eri-bro when his lusus leaves. If he had gills and fins like they did, he could follow his custodian into the ocean. Maybe then Goatdad might want to stay more. Maybe they could do some cool ocean stuff together.
Or maybe his lusus would try to leave further away.
Fingers dipped into the acid-green sopor pie, licking the poisonous goop off the carapace-covered digits. His mind immediately calmed from the roiling and rumbling rage that simmered beneath his skin. Like getting a pale-hug from Kar-bro after a feels jam or after busting some sick rhymes with Tav-bro. A dopey smile found its way to his face as he grabbed at another bottle of Faygo. Shit was delicious.
Half-lidded eyes wandered back to his husktop, where the devices miraculously connected him to his friends, new and old. For the longest time there had been only eleven handles on his Trollian (one for each color of the rainbow like the motherfucking miracle their friendship group was), but recently that list had grown to include some sick new bros and sisses.
It was thanks to Eri-bro, who had pulled his own motherfucking miracle and hopped to a planet far, far away from Alternia. To a place called Earth where there were magical aliens called wizards. Gamzee had watched the videos and streams they'd posted on the memos, had seen in awe of the motherfucking magic they cast in their motherfucking magic school. They'd all up and taught him a bunch of motherfucking rad things — sent him stuff too (from places with dope names like "Zonko's" and "Honeyduke's").
The purple-hued highblood had also learned of a miraculous concept from them as well — parenthood. Grown-up humans (as they had corrected at some point) took care of their own little buddies instead of leaving them to a custodian. They gave the human wrigglers ("children", one had called them, "babies", another had, and one of the cool sisses with the really big words had called them "infants") names, and fed and clothed them without expecting the wriggler to take care of them back.
They called this kind of thing a "family".
A motherfucking miraculous word.
When Gamzee drew on the walls with his sopor pie, he'd spell out that word. Sometimes when he'd dream, he'd dream of vague shapes and colors and a warmth that came from a "parent", and wondered what that would feel like. Kar-bro gives the best of pale-hugs, but the humans insisted that a "mother's embrace" was different.
In his blood-pusher, Gamzee Makara hoped that he'd get one of these sick hugs one of these days. But for now, he'll watch the colors on the screen with the same innocent joy that he's always had, and wait for his custodian to come home.
A giant shadow passing his window caught the corner of his eye, illuminated by a bolt of pink lightning. Not one to let his curiosity get away, the 6-sweep-old tottered to the window, pressing his face against the cold glass and covering some of the transparent material in a mix of sopor, Faygo, drool, and white face paint.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the tall figure standing by the ocean, the dark fabric around its shoulders flapping in the wind. Gamzee would continue to stare at it, dazed and amazed, until it vanished with the next bolt of magenta lightning.
"...MoThErFuCkInG MiRaClEs!"
It seemed increasingly obvious that the greatest things Harry had witnessed in recent history had to do with Eridan. Killing the dementors? Awesome. Freaking out the Order with threats of a troll? Classic. Putting Umbridge in a headlock? Legendary.
This was different.
Harry watched in amusement at the sight before him. Eridan was currently openly gaping up at Hagrid, who was still recovering from the trip he'd just endured with Madam Maxime to visit the giants.
Apparently their Dumbledore-received quest had gone to absolute shit when the leader giant guy they were trying to endear themselves to got offed by another giant that the Death Eaters had buttered up to. The two of them nearly got killed by the sounds of it and had spent the trip back looking into giant sightings near lakes and the ocean with no luck.
The idea of giants joining Voldemort would've been terrifying at one point prior to the events of the summer, but Harry's dealt with Eridan (and his other Alternian friends to a smaller degree) and could confidently say that those maniacs could probably wipe out the last of the giants on the continent without much difficulty. He'd seen the FLARP videos. Hell, Harry had seen firsthand what Eridan could do to Dementors and Parasites. At this point it was more a matter of trying to reduce collateral damage and make sure they could all hold out until the genocidal fishchild blasted a hole clean through the Dark Lord's sternum.
But Harry was digressing.
It had been a while since their resident murder troll had been phased by anything. Even the mountain trolls only registered a feeling of disgust at what wizards had named them, probably because Eridan had never seen a real one up close. But apparently an 11-foot tall half giant was enough to wow the seadweller into silence for a moment.
Apparently this was because this was as tall as most adult highbloods tended to get. Which may or may not have sent a chill down Harry's spine. If Eridan could do this much damage in his little 5'2" stature, he shuddered at the havoc an adult Eridan could wreck.
On a completely separate note, giants apparently can't live together very well because they keep trying to kill each other over every little thing. Which made Harry wonder if maybe giants were some kind of cousin to Alternian trolls (oooh what if the same could be said about mountain trolls? Eridan might have an aneurysm if Harry brought that idea up).
Regardless, it was a mutual agreement of the Legacy to keep Hagrid from knowing Eridan's true origins during their first meeting, for as much as Harry knew that Hagrid was a wonderful and loyal friend, the half-giant also couldn't keep a secret like that to save his life.
That's not to say he didn't try, especially when Umbridge came around and started playing Sherlock Holmes. To be fair, Umbridge was looking for a reason to sack Hagrid on the day of his return. It was a miracle Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Eridan were able to get out of that undiscovered.
Harry was sure that Hagrid was very ready to hop on the 'go-feral' train when it finally happened, especially after that disastrous first lesson in which Malfoy, Parkinson, and Umbridge had triple-teamed to make his teaching skills look bad.
Speaking of which, Harry and Eridan had been making decent headway as the double-leadership of the Secret Hogwarts Rebellion (or SHoRe, for short, which was a seadweller pun that Eridan and Feferi delighted in repeating). Hermione, always the resourceful one, had charmed galleons (provided by Eridan) to use as communication devices between non-Legacy ShoRe members (since the Legacy had Trollian). When the galleons were active, it would show a facet of Umbridge instead with a line running through her profile. Everyone agreed this was a nice touch. They were passed out inconspicuously to students and faculty alike — even Professor Clay got one. First, however, Hermione had every person who was serious about the Rebellion sign an agreement of some sort. Harry didn't know what happened if the agreement was broken by a signee, but by the troll-worthy smile that had graced Hermione's face when he'd asked her, it was probably best not knowing.
He wondered if she was spending too much time around Eridan and Aradia, and then decided that pretty much everyone who'd been around had probably subconsciously picked up on some Alternian mannerisms — especially with the help of the Troll Taffy (the name had stuck, and surprisingly no one really questioned it). On the flip side, Eridan was doing remarkably well with picking up human mannerisms and phrases, to the point where he'd started using words like "Heart", "Bedroom", and "Brain" instead of "Blood Pusher", "Respiteblock", and "Think Pan". In his defense, Eridan had argued that the human terms were "shorter an' easier to say, if harder to infer the meanin' of" and that the blood-changing potion "might havve done some lastin' damage".
ShoRe had gained new members by the week — all of Gryffindor, most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and half of Slytherin (which surprised some of the Legacy, but Eridan had little understanding of the House prejudices and as a Ravenclaw mingled with them quite easily) were all dutifully carrying around their little galleons. Even much of the faculty had one in their pocket (including Snape, and Harry didn't ask how Eridan had managed that).
In the meantime, Professor Clay had put a halt to his odd detentions for the Legacy in the Forbidden Forest. He gave no explanation as to why, but Harry had seen the spooky-clothed DADA Professor making his own way into the forest through the window where he'd often sit and ruminate in his dorm. Professor Clay seemed to get along decently with Hagrid, and according to Hermione, had been nice enough to help the half-giant with his lesson plans so Umbridge had less ammunition.
December descended upon them swiftly like a falcon catching its prey. Work piled up higher than the snow outside, and much of the Hogwarts residency was caught up in the holiday season marred only by the presence of a certain pink toad. Ginny became the new Gryffindor Seeker, which came as no surprise to anyone (even if Ginny had admitted her preference of being a Chaser instead) and the party they had to celebrate drowned out most of the bitter feelings Harry had about being kicked off the team by Umbridge. The Beater spots were also filled, though none could quite measure up to the Twins, who had thrown most of their efforts into their prank business (which was booming — especially since they were running discounts for anything that was used on Umbridge).
Harry had been promised Christmas at the Burrow, which was by far the greatest news he'd heard so far. It saddened him to know that getting away from Hogwarts had become so prevalent in his mind ever since Umbridge stepped her slimy foot inside, but on the other hand the Burrow had always felt like a safe haven to him as well. He was looking forward to it, that was for sure, and it was highly likely that the whole Weasley brood would be there.
Surprisingly, Eridan had been invited as well. At his confusion of what that meant, Hermione had launched into a background of what Christmas was, only for all of them to find out that trolls celebrated something similar — "Twelfth Perigee". A pretty odd coincidence, but a nice one nonetheless. They spent the morning comparing notes on the two holidays. Much of it was rather similar, they even had trees and presents!
The seadweller had also stated that he often held a Twelfth Perigee party at his WarshipHive, and most of the other trolls should be in attendance. Trollian had pinged with agreement, with Karkat stating that he usually brought the movies (everyone seemed to complain how they were always rom coms), Feferi chimed in that she helped decorate the place, and the troll called Gamzee insisted on bringing a drink they called 'Faygo' (he had to be persuaded not to bring 'sopor pie').
Eridan asked the Legacy if they wanted to come to the party as well — which obviously was a resounding yes as it fell before the actual holidays on Earth this time. The Legacy gathered around in the Room of Requirement before dinner. They made arrangements — how they'd arrive using the Veil, when they'd sneak out, what they'd wear...
Harry was sure he wasn't the only one excited about seeing how trolls celebrated their own version of Christmas, and maybe he could persuade Mrs. Weasley to at least let some of the other trolls come over to the Burrow…
He'd nodded off in an armchair with the happy chatter around him.
He dreamt that Eridan was shooting at Christmas baubles in the shape of Umbridge's head that were hung over the Great Hall cackling maniacally while Sirius talked to Harry in dog form about how dull it was to be staying at Grimmauld Place alone and if Harry would mind if he turned into a troll instead. Hermione and Ginny had walked in wearing their dresses from the Yule Ball and had asked Harry why he wasn't ready for the party yet while their skin slowly turned gray and they began to sprout candy corn colored horns. He looked down at his hands and he was turning gray as well, despite his protests which were drowned by Eridan's cackling.
But then he felt himself be pulled into his mind, where that nasty Parasite in the box in the cupboard of his mindspace rattled and rattled.
And suddenly he was somewhere else. Sliding across the ground with no need for arms or legs. His body was powerful, smooth, flexible, gliding across stone floors in a darkened building. He could see the world in a myriad of colors and smells, swirling around the air. They each told him different pieces of information.
This place was large and vast, great stone walls mingled with wooden frames. The remnant of the smells off all that had passed through earlier still hanging in the air like a brand of their existence.
He flicked his tongue out, tasting the air.
There were still morsels here.
Yes… there was a man sitting at his desk, packing up his things while humming to himself and doing a small dance. That was his target… who Master wanted him to bite…
The man flicked his wand and the lights went off, heading down the corridor.
Yes… come closer… so he could bite…
The man abruptly stopped, drawing a wand from his belt.
No choice now. Harry reared back and went to strike-
Bang.
Harry fell out of his seat in a jolt, pressing his hand against his scar, where it burned and throbbed. Damn! And things had been going so well with Eridan's lessons!
The sudden thump caused everyone to look his way in concern.
"You alright, mate?" Ron was the first to ask as Harry slowly rose up to a sitting position. His ears began to burn as he felt all eyes on him.
"Yeah… yeah." The Parasite host grumbled, still rubbing the scar, "Shit… it's been a while since that hurt so much…"
"What happened?" Ginny asked, helping him back up. "You jerked out as if you'd gotten hit with something."
Harry opened his mouth to retort that yes, it was definitely something someone got hit with, before he realized that he wasn't quite sure how to explain whatever the hell he'd just dreamt of. It certainly felt like the kind of dream that got him lured into the Department of Mysteries in the first place, but the point of view was certainly of Voldemort's big ugly snake.
"Yeah… I think it was another vision, actually." Harry grumbled, ignoring the slight intake of breath from a few people. "Mr. Weasley was targeted by Lord Noseless' snake-" another round of gasps, "He's fine though! I think?"
There was a notable amount of silence that had befallen the room. Hadn't he said some good news, though? Well, by the way his head was still throbbing even long after waking up, Harry was pretty sure it was good news despite the headache.
"Wha'dyu mean you think?!" Ron voice went up a couple octaves.
Oh, right. Dad attacked by giant snake. Well, more targeted than attacked, since from what he saw that snake didn't have time to react before-
"I think the snake is dead now." Was his succinct response.
Very, very dead. Very dead in the way Harry was sure only one murderous Ravenclaw and his fellow alien murderchildren could make something. Which led to more questions for Harry… aaaand now the headache had nothing to do with the physical residue of the scar.
"What do you mean dead?! That bloody thing was enormous!" That might have been Ginny.
"Yeah, right in the head. Hard to get back from something like that, I'd reckon."
How was a human able to get his hands on something that was clearly an Alternian weapon? How did he know how to use it? How was he accurate enough to shoot straight between the eyes of a giant snake?!
"Harry, you're not making much sense right now…"
Harry's head swam so much he couldn't even pinpoint who was talking anymore. Could have been Hermione. Or Neville. One of the chronic worriers.
"For once I think there's nothing to worry about. It's a weird feeling." Harry continued, pondering, confused.
No, but really, where on Earth would he have gotten a…
"Oooooh shit. He was serious."
"What about Sirius?" Ron piped up immediately.
Harry cast his eyes over the large ballroom being used to house the party guests. Decorations were hung all around, surrounding a massive pine tree where an array of gray packages with colored ribbons and a tag with a corresponding symbol sat beneath its magenta leaves. Long teal-wood tables were laden with pitchers of different hues of grubjuice and Alternian finger foods, and Eridan's lusus Seahorsedad floated about and nibbled at their hair. So different, and yet so similar.
The actual celebration of Twelfth Perigee was shockingly like Christmas, except trolls believed presents were given by Death and his 'foxy Handmaid' instead of Santa Claus and his elves. Which was apparently a hill that Hermione was going to die on when she started vehemently debating the legitimacy of either belief with Terezi Pyrope, whose brain was as sharp as her pointy, pointy horns. Thankfully, it diffused the tension and awkwardness of those meeting in person for the first time. The rest of the Legacy had quickly broken off into sections after the initial shock and greetings were done for the trolls in attendance, which according to Eridan was all eleven trolls in his friend group.
Tavros Nitram was introducing a game called "Fiduspawn" to Neville with Gamzee Makara pulling the bull-horned troll into "BuStInG SiCk rHyMeS". He seemed to be getting the hang of both the game and the sudden bursts into rapping — even joining in to both of the trolls' delight.
Fred and George had started dragging Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope into what may become some kind of prank war (Harry was… he wasn't going to get in the middle of that. Something about their gazes terrified him). Eridan had told Harry a while ago that they were dubbed 'the Scourge Sisters' which made him realize that if Eridan seemed to somewhat avoid them, perhaps it was best to keep a wide berth.
Hermione had started grilling Sollux Captor on his psionics while Feferi Peixes hung off her in a piggyback hug (which was apparently not something trolls did with each other? Humans were more prone to physical affection outside of the Troll 'Quadrants' it seems), their dark bushy hair mingling in a way that may require magic to untangle with the way Feferi's tresses seemed to almost move and bounce with a mind of their own.
Ginny was talking with Nepeta Leijon and Equius Zahhak about Quidditch. Nepeta seemed excited with the idea of the sport, and Equius was just very uncomfortable with everyone except his moirail. Which, honestly, just sounded like a sibling relationship to Harry, but what did he know? He was human.
Luna was giving Kanaya Maryam an aneurysm by the looks of it with her… unique choice of dress (dirigible plum earrings and a mishmash of various colors and designs that gave Dumbledore a run for his galleons), and Eridan had pulled Ron away for a game of wizard chess with Karkat Vantas shouting about this being 'NOT THE TIME FOR ANOTHER MIND-NUMBINGLY LONG STRATEGY GAME ON THE ONE DAY EVERYONE ACTUALLY GOT OFF THEIR SORRY ASSES TO SOCIALIZE'.
Which left…
"So… this is what you look like when you're not floating around as an astral-projecting ghost… thingy?"
Aradia Megido's wide, toothy grin never failed to send chills down his spine.
"0f c0urse! What did y0u think I w0uld l00k like?"
She always smiled like she knew something, but never elaborated on the secret she so reveled in. Eridan had complained about her inscrutability on more than one occasion and Harry was beginning to understand his frustration.
"Just… making small talk I suppose. This whole 'leading me away from everyone' isn't to off me away from prying eyes, is it? I have enough people vying for my head as it is."
Indeed, they were getting further and further away from the rest of the celebrations, to a darkened corner of the ballroom. Harry's back pressed against a statue of Ulric the Odd (and his infamous jellyfish hat) that they had procured for Eridan for his continued efforts in beating up Umbridge (it had been the Twins' idea).
Aradia's bleating laughter was not comforting.
"D0n't w0rry, I w0uldn't take killing y0u away fr0m y0ur m0rtal enemies! Y0u have t0 die by his hand, remember?"
Right the damned Prophecy that nearly cost Sirius his life, and had cost his parents their's so many years ago.
"Wait, how do you know about the Prophecy?"
"Y0u t0ld me, silly!"
"I did?"
He didn't recall ever mentioning the Prophecy to any of the trolls (maybe Eridan, since they did spill the beans on a lot to catch him up to speed on their situation). But she'd referenced it so he must have at some point, right?
Aaand now she was staring again. At his hands. She did that a lot — for some reason she'd examine his hands (just his, he checked, she didn't do that to anyone else) for long bits of time when she was thinking.
"Anyways, I called y0u here t0 help me with 0ur time-h0n0red traditi0n! The Cycle must c0ntinue after all! A new quest — give every0ne their Twelfth Perigee presents!"
A bundle floated over his head, presumably un-capchalogged, and into his arms. Turning it over, it was… a tattered black cloak? And wrapped inside was a bone-white skull mask…
"Hold on, isn't this Professor Clay's?" Harry squawked in surprise.
"It's y0urs, silly!"
"Aradia, did you steal this from Professor Clay?"
"Happy Twelfth Perigee!"
"What is this even for?!"
"Y0u're Death and I'm the F0xy hand-Maid!"
"Oooooh I'm playing Troll Santa. That makes more sense. Why me?"
"It has t0 be y0u!"
And that was how Harry got roped into dressing in full-black garb and a tattered cloak and a white mask, handing out presents to trolls and humans alike. Some items were magical, which had delighted the Alternian recipients, and others were technology or weaponry for the Legacy (as it was unheard of for a troll's strife specious to be empty). Harry tried not to smirk at some of the presents. Ron had gotten a bright orange revolver, Hermione a graceful blue rapier, and Neville a broadsword with vine like designs. Just like he'd envisioned. A small glance at Eridan, a wink in return.
He blinked when the seadweller pressed a package with Harry's lightning bolt insignia on the tag into his hands.
"Found it tucked in the library. Dunno howw it got there, but it felt right to givve it to ya." he muttered.
Gold and red paper was ripped off to reveal a long, curved blade with a compacted pole handle. Green eyes took it in with shock and confusion.
"Did Aradia put you up to this?"
The two trolls shared a look, and Harry didn't need their damn troll horns to know the answer to that question.
In his hands, the steel of the scythe blade glinted… green.
- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling sableEvanescence [SE] -
CA: your twwelfth perigee gift is most appreciated
SE: As is yours. I am curious to know what effects the various flora and fauna of Alternia can provide to potions and artifacts alike.
CA: im sure youll find a wway to somehoww cure lycanthropy or some shit
CA: anywways wwhat did the wwalkin fashion disaster in the teachers memo mean wwhen he mentioned that wwhole remedial potions thin
CA: hars not that shit at potions
SE: No… I am to begin teaching Potter Occlumancy.
CA: wwhats that
SE: A form of the Mind Arts. It shields one from Legilimancy, those who can read minds. It may be useful to teach you as well.
CA: oh shit
CA: ivve been teachin har howw to guard his mind against vvoldy for perigees noww
SE: …
CA: vvris wwas alwways big on the mind control thin that members of her caste wwere capable of an evven though vvioletbloods are less susceptible to such thins vvriss abilities are stronger than most
CA: har an i realized that vvoldy might be lookin into his thinkpan so ivve been givvin him pointers
SE: …I will test both of your Occlumancy shields when you return, then. I will not be forgiving.
SE: If I deem them sufficient, there will be no need for me to begin lessons.
SE: My gratitude in advance. I was dreading teaching that brat.
CA: hes a good kid sevv
SE: He's like his father. Though perhaps your arrival has aided him in actually using his 'thinkpan' for its intended purpose.
CA: nevver kneww his progenitor but the stories ivve heard vvary
CA: speakin a wwhich howws sirius
SE: Why, pray tell, would I know that? Are you not going to be seeing him during the Christmas holidays? I'm sure Potter and the redheaded brood will find a way to sneak him in somehow.
CA: wwell hes your kismesis you tell me
SE: FOR THE LAST TIME WE ARE NOT
SE: I would rather be bitten by a werewolf.
SE: Or a large serpent.
SE: In the jugular.
CA: so your type is more lupin
CA: got it
SE: NO
- sableEvanescence [SE] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] -
"Harry! Eridan!"
Sirius' arms wrapped around the two dark-haired teens before they could react. Eridan, who had gotten used to things like hugs by now, no longer stiffened at the act and merely sighed while patting the man on the back. A glance at Hermione, who gave him a thumbs-up before she went upstairs with Ron and Ginny.
They decided that with the ongoing issue that was Lord Noseless and his band of crazy masked lunatics, going to the Burrow may not be the safest bet. They instead decided that bringing the remaining Weasley lot to Grimmauld Place would go down better.
Neville had gone home with his Gran since she insisted on taking him out of the country at least for the holidays, and Xenophilius and Luna were going far up north to track the elusive Revontulets (an elusive fox-type magical creature which could only be found in the winter months and were supposedly the reason for the Aurora Borealis phenomenon), so it was just Harry, Hermione, Eridan, and the Weasleys coming back to Grimmauld Place.
Already Eridan clocked how scraggly Sirius had become since Eridan last saw him in person. Humans really were social creatures, weren't they? They could barely survive being alone, even with a lusus-like companion like Witherwings (he refused to call such a noble beast 'Buckbeak'). He supposed it was a human weakness to need such coddling.
Only… was it really a human weakness? Had trolls not reached out to each other over trollian and in person? Was friendship not considered a prevalent disease on Alternia per the Empire's standard? Had… had their society been forced into one of alienation from one another?
How much of their society was built on preventing an uprising?
A hand waves over his face and out of reflex he catches it and twists. His earfins twitch as he registers Sirius' yelp. His grip immediately slackens as he gives the adult a look of apology.
"You're strong for such a little bugger." Sirius laughs through the obvious pain, reaching for a Wiggenweld potion off the shelf (really, he hadn't twisted that hard!).
"Sorry…" the troll muttered, head and fins down.
"If you're this strong when you're small I shudder what you'll be when you're an adult… son."
Eridan raised an eyebrow in an accurate rendition of Snape's patented Looks of Disdain.
"You wwouldn't be able to handle me, dad." He sniped back to be funny, but his horns detected some weird emotion coming from Sirius after he'd said that. He was once again wrapped in a hug, tighter this time.
Eridan glanced around the room frantically to see if anyone else was here to witness this, but it looked like Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley brood had gone off to plot things. They've been doing that more often since the Twelfth Perigee party, and once again Eridan wondered if introducing the two friend groups had been a good idea.
No. It had been a necessary move. Harry and the Legacy desperately needed to learn the importance of non-magical combat, and exposing the Alternian group to human culture will help with his future plans.
The seadweller patted the emotional Grim animagus on the back, sighing. It really was different having a parent like this, even a pretend one.
"Speaking of being a dad, I've got a surprise for you and Harry." Sirius said as he let Eridan go, a wide goofy grin on his face.
A raised eyebrow from the troll as he waited for Sirius to explain.
"Okay, so it looks like the goblins have been friendlier to me since they found out I'm your legal guardian and they've agreed to sneak me past the wizard entrance to Gringotts so I can take you both to the Black Family Vault. You and Harry can pick anything you like from inside there!" If Sirius was in his animagus form, he was sure to be wagging his tail.
Slitted eyes widened, like a cat's.
"Noww that does sound interestin."
And interesting it was, Eridan had to admit as he found himself back at Gringotts with Harry and Sirius in tow, having taken the human guise potion again to look the part of 'Eridanus Ampora-Black' (and trying not to think about if it, too, was making some kind of permanent change within him). He'd only been here the one time back when he was dunked head-first into what the wizarding world (and on a broader scale, Earth, he supposed) was like, and coming back a second time allowed him to take in everything that he'd missed before.
Gringotts was certainly obvious in their Alternian influences once you knew where to look. Their written system resembled Alternian writing, and much of the clothing they wore matched with the styles of the mid-to-highbloods during Dualscar's time. Hell, even their weapons were similar in aesthetic. Eridan quietly pointed these things out to Sirius and Harry, who seemed to be looking around the bank in a new light. Sirius was glancing around as if questioning everything he knew about goblins and trolls, and Harry kept eyeing the weapons as if measuring them up against the ones everyone in the Legacy received during the Twelfth Perigee party (which was good, it meant they were already starting to train with them).
The mine cart ride down was still full of twists and turns, Thief's Downfall washing away the disguise Eridan carried into Diagon, the goblin inside not even batting an eye at the change, though his narrowed eyes seemed to watch Eridan, curiosity evident from what he could sense from his horns. Even so, the ride itself was shorter than the one Eridan had taken to his ancestors' vault.
Sirius was as queasy as Severus had been as they dismounted the cart, Harry doing better than the grown adult. His expression and the confusion rolling off his form indicated this was a recent development. He'd have to ask the older teen about that later.
The vault itself resembled the other one he'd been in, piled high with coins and various treasures (many of which oozed with something that made Eridan's trigger finger twitch, like a slick oil that stuck to everything around it). Many objects were displayed on tables and shelves carved into the wall as well, some of the sharp weapons catching Eridan's eye along with the books neatly sorted on the far shelves.
"Usually this place would be warded with all sorts of nasty charms." Sirius explained, looking around the place in unbidden distaste. "If someone came here without permission everything they touched would be cursed to multiply indefinitely, eventually drowning out any thieves trying to steal any of this Merlin-forsaken shit."
Harry, who was just about to touch a golden astrolabe, quickly shrank his hand back.
"It's fine now, though, right?" He squeaked out.
Sirius just pokes at the suit of armor, which mutters what was probably expletives in another language — possibly French.
"Well yeah, I'm the current head of the Black family, you're my godson and Eridan is my kind-of-adopted son. Can't argue against that. Besides, would be a shame to let all this gold and garbage rot in a vault without ever seeing the light of day when I can show it off to my kin like a proper Pureblood should, eh?"
"Now I feel less bad about getting the Firebolt in the third year." Harry muttered as he looked around the vault. "Why'd you bring us down here, anyways? I thought you hated everything to do with your family — not that I'm upset, but I figured this would be the last place you'd want to go Christmas present shopping."
In response, Sirius shrugged a bit and pointed to where Eridan was eyeing the tomes and artifacts on the shelves with intense interest.
"Fair point."
"Sacrificin' your ancestors' loot for us is much appreciated." Eridan told him solemnly, causing Sirius and Harry to stifle in their laughter at the wording.
After some time looking at the various items — quite a few swords, an entire shelf of wands in velvet boxes, paintings that screamed whenever they saw the small troll stalking towards them — Harry noticed a weird golden cup sitting on one of the higher shelves. It vaguely reminded him of the Goblet of Fire, which didn't bring back the most pleasant of memories, but it did remind him of something Hermione had mentioned during Astronomy that year.
"Hey Eridan, look, the Holy Grail!" Harry chuckled, pointing to the cup. "Get it? Because your symbol is Aquarius?"
Eridan's eyeroll in response was worth it, but then he actually squinted up at the cup. For a good minute the seadweller just stood there, just staring at the thing. Then his pupils narrowed, earfins pressed back, hackles raised, and his lips turned down into a snarl.
"Har, you're not gonna fuckin' believve this."
Said Boy-Who-Lived-To-Get-Into-The-Dumbest-Situations dropped the trophy he'd been inspecting, head going back towards the innocuous-looking cup. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, feeling for that box he kept locked away in his mind, following the fewer connections that led off somewhere. When one of the connections did indeed end at the cup, Harry couldn't help but groan. Seriously, what even was his life at this point?
"No fucking way." He breathed, hands going into his hair to tug at it. Here? So casually… just… here?!
"Oh but havve you considered — yes wway?" Eridan drawled, uncapatchlogging Ahab's Crosshairs, getting into his shooting stance.
"Woah woah woah what's going on?!" Sirius shouted as the keening whine of the laser rifle began to sound.
"Parasite!" Harry shouted, casting a shield to protect himself and Sirius from any debris that might hit them. "Like the Locket!"
Anything else he'd say was drowned out by the discharge of the rifle, the chamber they were in filling with light. Amidst the shouts and swears from the portraits, one could hear the sizzle of something. Where the cup once stood was nothing but blackened soot, and a hole went from the back of the shelf to the ceiling. Surprisingly, nothing else was hit.
"Holy shit!" The dog animagus finally managed out.
"I honestly forgot how good of a shot you are." Harry muttered to the preening troll, "Like, your friends mentioned it, but I think this is the first time I've actually seen what they were talking about."
Eridan gave him that wide, sharp-toothed grin again (he'd gotten used to it. He's been around the little murder-troll and his little murder-troll friends too long if he's already desensitized, right?). "Practice makes perfect." was all he said in the matter.
In the end, Harry chose a portable Quidditch Ball set with a few extra Snitches, Eridan chose about five thick tomes that weren't cursed, and Sirius chose a large bottle of some kind of alcohol (saying he needed it and it was a little Christmas present to himself).
Christmas prep was in full swing as everyone pitched in to get Number 12 Grimmauld Place in shape for the season. Sirius, emboldened by the Spirits of the Season (see: the mystery alcohol in the Black Vault), became the taskmaster as he ordered everyone on his vision for how the place should look. He was determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more, than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable.
The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view; and even the stuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards. Even Kreacher had helped, toning down his complaints as he helped scrub and shine every inch of the place.
Throughout the whole thing, Eridan was given much information to do with the humans' notion of 'Christmas', and helped decorate the place with some baubles from their recent Twelfth Perigee party — ones that fit well within the ideals of Christmas and didn't clash with the warmth and joy of the human variety.
Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed and Ron already halfway through opening his own, rather larger, pile. Eridan was nowhere to be seen, his recupracoon empty.
"Good haul this year," Ron informed Harry through a cloud of colored paper. "Thanks for the Broom Compass, it's excellent, beats Hermione's — she's got me a homework planner —"
Harry sorted through his presents and found one with Hermione's handwriting on it. She too had given him a book that resembled a diary, except that it said things like "Do it today or later you'll pay!" every time he opened a page.
That was going to get old real fast. Please have a silencing option…
Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving color illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly. This would do well with everything he'd been learning from Professor Clay's class.
Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an antitheft device, but unfortunately prevented Harry putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Tonks's present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room, wishing he still had his full-size version. Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavor Beans, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and Dobby a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. Perhaps the elf was dabbling in Picasso?
He wasn't expecting Eridan to get him anything since trolls celebrated Twelfth Perigee instead, but the seadweller had gotten everyone an accessory that had their 'troll' symbol featured on it somehow. Harry thought the gold glasses with the lightning-bolts incorporated on the handles were pretty cool — and his prescription.
A crack, and Fred and George were suddenly at the door of his bed.
"Merry Christmas!" George sang out, already proudly sporting the jumper with the capital 'F', "You won't believe who showed up-"
"What's that supposed to be anyway?" asked Fred, cutting in and squinting at Dobby's painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."
"It's Harry!" said George, pointing at the back of the picture. "Says so on the back!"
"Good likeness." said Fred, grinning.
Harry threw his new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where it said happily, "If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may do whatever you please!"
"Merlin, sounds like Percy." Fred grumbled, warily eyeing where the planner landed.
"Speaking of, you won't believe who showed up for Christmas!" George continued, as if he'd just been let in on an enormous joke.
"Came to the Burrow and everything and Mum's just flooed him in—" Fred added, tossing the duvet over the planner as if it were an explosive.
Ron blinked in surprise as he pulled out a small present without a note from who it was from. Harry watched him open it as Fred and George talked, eyebrows climbing higher as Ron extracted a snakeskin wand holster from it.
"What the hell?" The younger redhead mumbled, turning it this way and that in his hands.
"Oh yeah, we got something similar." George mentioned ever-so-casually.
"Watches with snakeskin bands for us."
"No note on who it was from but the handwriting's clearly Perce's."
"Some kind of apology gift, we reckon."
"Huh, didn't realize he'd skin the damn thing." Harry muttered, noting to himself to talk to Eridan about that later.
The three present Weasleys turned to him in confusion.
"What d'you mean?" Ron asked.
"Just… be careful what you wish for next time." Harry stated with a strained voice tinged with regret.
They all got up and dressed after that (not without pestering Harry on his words but he was keeping tight-lipped on the subject). Harry could hear various inhabitants of the house calling "Merry Christmas" to each other. On their way downstairs they met Hermione.
"Thanks for the book, Harry!" she greeted them happily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! And that perfume is really unusual, Ron."
"No problem." said Ron, before he turned to Ginny who was trudging up to them, rubbing her eyes, "Hey Gin, did you get anything made of snakeskin this year?"
"Yeah." She mumbled, narrowing her eyes, "A set of Quidditch gloves. No clue from who. How d'you know?"
"Consequences." Harry piped up suddenly in the faux-mysterious voice Professor Trelawney was known for, "Soon you will see the consequences of your actions."
"You all agreed it wwould be funny. Stop bein' pissy about it." Came Eridan's voice at the base of the stairs, hands full of presents that looked suspiciously book shaped and sporting red and green festive attire.
"What d'you mean by that?" Ron asked as they made their way into the kitchen.
The adults were there already — Remus and Sirius had immediately accosted Harry to put on a set of enchanted antlers, insisting that it was Marauders tradition and Harry must carry it on as 'Prongslet'. Oddly enough, these antlers seemed to suddenly take a candy corn color scheme when they 'sprouted' from his head. Eridan looked smug, Fred and George seemed unreasonably innocent (which usually indicated the opposite).
Mrs. Weasley was setting the table with a mouth-watering Christmas breakfast spread (Harry spotted treacle tart where the sweets were; all was well with the world). She seemed to be humming with holiday cheer. Around her waist was a new snakeskin half-apron. Helping her set the spread was Mr. Weasley (who was wearing a shiny new pair of snakeskin shoes) and — just as the Twins had mentioned — Percy. The teens were greeted with another round of "Merry Christmas"s from them before being herded into the chairs for breakfast.
Percy, to some people's surprise, greeted Eridan amicably, shaking the small troll's hand all business-like. Eridan returned it in kind.
"Your schematics were legitimate." was the first thing Percy told Eridan, causing a ripple on confusion amongst those that were Mr. Weasley, Harry, and Eridan himself.
"Did you havve doubts that they wwould be?" An eyebrow raise from the small troll.
Ron had a look of dawning comprehension. Hermione's eyes widened in horror, like the prophet Cassandra seeing her unheeded warnings come to light.
"I was skeptical that you would provide such a thing to someone who was essentially a stranger. You may have reached out to me with a request but that does not guarantee that you will hold up anything on your end." Percy continued, apparently not seeing (or not caring about) the tone shift amongst the dramatic youth.
Ginny put her goblet down a little more forcefully than she intended. Fred and George were staring, mouth agape.
"An noww?" Eridan's grin was wide and full of sharp teeth.
"It works fantastic. Thank you." The human with the horn-rimmed glasses said with honest emotion, "I'll have to study the schematics of it later since the 'spirit' of the weapon appears to resemble Fiendfyre — something our world considers Dark Magic — but it certainly doesn't appear to be as uncontrollable."
Sirius does a spit-take with his bacon just as the cacophony of noise begins.
"Eridan what did you do?!"
"I told you it was a bad idea!"
"Eridan it was a joke!"
"Wait wait wait!" Ginny suddenly shouts, fork in the air before pointing it squarely at her oldest brother present. "So you killed the snake that attacked Dad? That was you?"
"How did… well I suppose it doesn't matter." Percy grumbled a bit, shaking his head in slight exasperation, "Yes. I'd been working late at the office and saw a rather large serpent gliding through the Ministry Halls like it owned the place and went to follow it. Beasts that large have to be kept in a cage or at least a leash at all times, and I was going to give whoever owned the snake a telling-to but I couldn't find anyone else around, which meant that it was likely someone set it loose and I'd have to write whoever did that up or at least notify the correct-"
"Perce, get to the point!" Fred groaned in slightly irritation.
"Right. Right. Yes. Well, I'd followed it to where Dad was packing up apparently, and the snake sort of… reared back. I panicked because it looked like it was going to strike, and I'd been practicing using the strife specibus I was given so I sort of… shot it in the head?"
Harry nodded, since that lined up with that dream he had a while ago.
"So what's in the thing you gave him?" Harry asked, turning to Eridan who'd been following Percy's explanation with more grace than the rest of them.
"It's one a the rifles I used to use before I found Ahab's Crosshairs." Eridan explained with a shrug. "It's called the Mariner's Arquebus. It apparently has the 'soul' of some kind a fire entity inside it to power it, wwhich differs from the Crosshairs since that's powwered by wwhatevver magic flowws through my vveins, so anyone skilled enough could use it."
"You actually gave Percy a gun?!"
Eridan blinked. "You all said 'let Percy go feral' an' I havve givven him the tools to do so." He motions a clawed hand towards Percy, who was distinctly not looking in his mother's direction despite her glare being so intense Harry wasn't sure why it wasn't burning a hole through his head yet. "Though I didn't teach him howw to shoot. He already kneww."
"Look, some of the old soldiers that live in the muggle side of Ottery St. Catchpole aren't the magic sort and they enjoy teaching the next generation how to shoot by using chickens as target practice." Percy practically mumbled as he poked at his food, not looking up. "I'd go where some of the other blokes were practicing their aim if I needed to, you know, blow off some steam. Exams, being Prefect and Head Boy, and herding you lot gets stressful, you know. And at least I can come home with chicken or pheasant or deer for dinner."
He gives Eridan some kind of meaningful look and a small nod, but Harry can't make heads or tails of what was said. It eerily reminded him of Fred and George somewhat. But Eridan looked usually pleased with himself, and Percy was continuing to avert his gaze from everyone at the table. There was something horrifying knowing that Percy's one bad day of genuinely going feral and now has something similar to Eridan's laser rifle.
"That's how you were getting those? I thought those nice muggle men were giving them to you for listening to their old war stories." Mr. Weasley said with surprise, before getting smacked lightly on the shoulder by Mrs. Weasley.
Chatter resumed around the table as food was passed around again, jokes were made at multiple people's expense, and presents and stories were shared. Even though it wasn't Hogwarts (currently sullied by She-Who-Wears-Too-Much-Pink), Harry felt a warmth inside him as he geared up for a pick-up game of Quidditch in an enlarged ballroom (chandeliers removed, courtesy of Kreacher).
Tonks showed up later in the afternoon. She'd come out of the Floo morphed into a rendition of Santa Clause, which would have been completely believable if she didn't almost immediately trip two steps out of the fireplace and was caught by a panicking Remus. Everybody called the werewolf "Mrs. Claus" for the rest of the day.
It was a happy Christmas indeed.
The short days after Christmas passed them by and soon it was time to return to Hogwarts. Usually they'd return via the Hogwarts express, but apparently certain members of the Order thought that was too risky since there were usually less kids on the train and generally most Pureblood kids Flooed into Hogsmeade. So they were going to use the Knight Bus.
Harry tucked his lips away when he heard, looked at Eridan who was drinking his human disguise potion, and said nothing.
His face when the violently purple triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air with a BANG in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost (which jumped backward out of its way), was worth the silence. He hadn't seen Eridan this offended since the mountain trolls were mentioned.
"Hey look, it's your color!" Harry managed out, not even flinching at the short third-year's withering gaze anymore.
"More Gam's shade than mine, I think." Eridan muttered, striding up the steps past poor Stan Shunpike who was about to do his short welcome speech. "Clearly it's for clowwns."
Harry couldn't help the cackle that came from him as he also ascended the steps inside, hearing Tonks behind him threaten the poor pimpled teen if he shouted that the Boy-Who-Lived got on the bus for everyone to hear.
"I've always wanted to go on this thing!" He heard Ron say happily behind him, joining Harry on board and looking around.
It took Ron getting flung to the floor from the steer force of the bus suddenly speeding and swerving and stopping and whatever the hell else the driver was doing to regret those words immensely. Mismatched chairs slid here and there, and the floor was covered with an array of goop from various spilled things mixing together ("Hey! Looks like potion idea Gred!" "I agree Forge- urk!"). Ginny were clutching her things for dear life so they didn't slip and join the ooze on the floor, Pidgewidgeon having been freed from his cage the first time Ron's chair had slammed into it was currently nesting on Hermione's shoulder, and Hermione herself was covering her eyes as she braced for the next movement.
Some poor lady in the back heaved her stomach dry. Luckily her stop was next.
Eridan seemed to be the only one who got the memo after the first time he was knocked off his feet by the bus' sudden departure, and had quickly adapted to the movements by watching the driver and hopping on and off chairs and hanging on the bars. His wild grin showed that he was the only manic enjoying this trip in the slightest.
Damn trolls.
Tonks had apparently bribed the driver to move up their stop, so Hogsmeade was blessedly the next stop after. The snow-covered ground of the nearby wizarding town was the most beautiful thing he'd seen after the ride nearly relieved him of his lunch. Dazed, the humans of the group stumbled out, the winter cold biting at their skin.
Some glared at Eridan as he stepped off, once again smug. Each of them tried to take a whack at him as he batted them off, screeching and growling that they 'should'a learned to fight in a wwobblin' wwarship' if they wanted to do what he did.
Tonks and Remus, their chaperones, bid the seven of them good luck as they headed towards the Hog's Head for a pick-me-up after riding in the Knight Bus. Harry watched them go before casting his eyes to where the others trudged through the snow up towards the castle. He casts a sideways glance at Eridan, who was talking to the twins about something that was too far to make out.
He takes a deep breath in, the cold air filling his lungs. When he breathes out, he feels more ready to deal with whatever the hell was in store for the second half of the year and beyond… aaaaand Eridan is chasing Ron up the hill shouting Alternian expletives. There goes that sentiment.
Harry grumbles as he runs to catch up with them, not noticing the pair of violet eyes watching them all from the treeline of the Forbidden Forest.
A/N:
Oni: Well, that's all I have for now, folks!
Eridan: You ended on a cliffhanger?
Oni: It's not a cliffhanger! We are looking at a hint of the cliffs below but we are not yet hanging off of it.
Harry: That makes no sense.
Oni: *sniffles, wails, runs through a wall Kool-Aid Man style*
Harry: Oh well. I guess the rest is up to us. We hope you enjoyed the story so far.
Eridan: If you did, consider followwin', favvoritin', and revviewwin'.
Oni: *pokes head through Oni-shaped hole* And I will see you all next time, my Pretties!
